At least not anymore. Province House was torn down in 1922. But during the Blockade of Boston it served as the colonial governor’s residence. And thanks to the folks at Historic New England (SPNEA), you can find pretty much everything we know about the building today, here. I found the article while checking details about the building’s appearance in 1775 when my second Renegades of the Revolution book is set–but the ultimately unsuccessful fight to save this building is a great story all on its own.

So what is this place? And how does it fit into the witch-pirate-privateer-China Trade-story of Salem?

The House of the Seven Gables started life as a novel by Nathaniel Hawthorne that hardly anyone reads anymore. It’s got some terrific gothic elements but moves like molasses and lacks the implicit sexiness of The Scarlet Letter.

Here’s where the story gets interesting. In 1907 local philanthropist Caroline Emmerton started experimenting with a “settlement house” for Salem’s immigrants. The settlement house movement in American was focused on teaching immigrant women and children job skills and English. Emmerton was looking for a way to fund the house and she hit on the idea of running a tourist attraction.

The 1667 Turner House may or may not have inspired Nathaniel Hawthorne’s description of the house in the novel. The house was certainly owned by his aunt, Susannah Ingersoll, and Hawthorne definitely visited. But there were several other houses in town that are equally likely candidates and Hawthorne himself said that the house in the book was his own invention.

Even so, by the 1870s the Turner House was entrenched in local lore as The House. And in 1908 Emmerton bought it and hired an architect to remake it in the image of Hawthorne’s fictional creation. The site opened to the public in 1910. In 1958 Hawthorne’s birthplace home was purchased and moved to the site. More than you ever wanted to know about that process can be found here.

When you take the tour today the guides are up-front about the Disneyland aspects of the site. There is some interesting architecture to see, there are some nice period rooms, the house is situated on the water and the gardens and associated buildings are charming, but there’s a curious dissociated quality to a tour on which you learn all about how the things you are looking at are based on a book you’ve never read or read and can’t remember.

Should you go? Yes, you probably should. It’s one of the few historic houses open all day  and all year long in Salem. The grounds are lovely, the gift shop is quite good, and the place is overrun with friendly felines. (Our cat was born there.) And there’s a candy shop across the street worthy of its own entry.

The focus is steadfastly local–you’ll only hear about New England pirates here–and their stories, even translated into dusty, dark dioramas, are fascinating. The lighting is intentionally low, probably because the exhibits are more Nate and Hayes than Pirates of the Caribbean (I’m pretty sure I spotted a pirate swashing his buckles in a Vera Bradley jacket…). And there are a few more stairs than I anticipated when I bought my 80-year-old mother’s ticket.

But these are quibbles. It’s fun and entertaining and you’ll probably come away wanting to know more. Don’t miss the obscure (and sadly not for sale) treasure maps of Cape Ann decorating the lobby gift shop. And look for the case with the sword pistol at the start of the tour. Rare, gorgeous, and the stuff of pirate legend.

The fellows outside also make for a good photo op.

Along with the Federal mansions flanking the common and lining Chestnut Street, the Friendship is a vivid reminder of the brief, glittering moment when Salem was the richest city, per capita, in America.

Her replica was built from a model made by her original crew and gifted to her owners, now at the Peabody Essex Museum. She sailed to Canton, Jakarta, Indonesia, Madras, Venezuela, London, and Russia, among other places, before being captured by the British during the War of 1812.

It would be nice if the National Park or the City did more to sell her for what she was and is: a ticket to adventure. Sailing in the 18th century was deadly dangerous, high risk and high reward. New England seaman traveled the world, many of them visiting more distant countries than any of us are likely to today. Some of them died far from home at the hand of pirates or foreign powers or in the grip of disease. And some of them made fortunes overnight.

But there’s only so much you can do with a name like the Friendship, and in a town rife with sensationalized history, a little creative license would go a long way.

Like most National Park properties, the Friendship is usually guided tour only except for special hours, and you’ve got to sign up in advance at the visitor center. It’s worth the minor inconvenience. Drop in to the NPS shack on Derby Street, pick up one of their excellent Salem Maritime brochures, then cool your heels at Jaho Coffee until tour time.

During the off-season, you’re sure to get an experienced, entertaining guide. During tourist season, NPS rangers are often pulled in from other less popular regional sites, and might not be able to offer the same level of detail. Try to get a Salem park guide if you can, but if you can’t, take the tour anyway. Twenty minutes aboard the Friendship and you’ll want to sign aboard and venture “to the furthest port of the rich east.”

So how does Salem’s most popular attraction stack up as pure entertainment?

The Salem Witch Museum is a lot like a Hammer horror movie. Some of the audio effects–especially the rushing wind–even sound borrowed from one. It’s not bad to look at: there are costumes and scenes that ought to be dramatic: jail cells, trial courts, a gallows–even a giant Devil. But the same qualities that make it bad history, make it poor entertainment. The Witchcraft Trials are presented as lurid, unrelated episodes. There’s no cause and effect to string this story together, to make it truly chilling. It’s dusty and dated and the mannequins have seen better days. If you’re looking for a clear and concise summary of the events of 1692, you won’t find it here.

Sadly, these days, you can hardly find it at all in Salem. The Peabody Essex, repository for the 600 surviving trials documents owned by the Commonwealth, no longer displays or interprets them. Most tourists don’t have time for a side trip to Danvers, former Salem Village, where the trouble started, and the excellent Rebecca Nurse Homestead.

But there is one site in Salem where you can hear an accurate account of the trials and peek inside an authentic 17th century home. The Witch House, on Essex Street at the edge of the McIntire district, was owned by trials judge Jonathon Corwin, and offers a great introduction to the events of 1692, but the house is small and tours are limited. If you have only one day to spend in Salem, start your visit there.

“A combination of historical espionage and smoldering romance, Thorland’s first novel is a surprising and engrossing tale. Immersing the reader in 1777 Philadelphia, sweeping from decadent high-society balls to the filth of battlefield infirmaries, Thorland exhibits real passion for the time period…a thrilling read.” –Booklist

“The Turncoat is an exhilarating, intelligent, and superbly intricate spy thriller that keeps its tension vibrating and surprises crackling until the very last page.” –RT Book Reviews

“A stay-up-all-night, swashbuckling, breath-holding adventure of a novel…An extraordinary book about an extraordinary heroine.”—Lauren Willig, National Bestselling Author of the Pink Carnation series

“It’s historical romance for those who like military tactics front and center, genealogy gnarled and explicit sex scenes rare (but, uh, pretty darn explicit).” –Philadelphia City Paper

In bookstores and available online in paperback, large print, ebook, and audiobook:

How did we know which scenes to choose from the book? We asked ourselves basic story questions. Who is Kate Grey? What does she want? Who opposes her?