THE ROPES MEMORIAL
At 318 Essex Street stands a complete and beautiful example of the Salem residence at its best, the house now known as the ‘Ropes Memorial,’ erected in 1719, and continuously occupied by successive generations of this famous family over a period of nearly a hundred and fifty years. The Honorable Nathaniel Ropes, Judge of the Superior and Probate Courts, and a stubborn Loyalist, and after him in regular descent four other Nathaniels, lived here from 1768 until 1893, when the last one died.
In 1912 a board of trustees, under the instructions by will of Mary Pickman Ropes and Eliza Orne Ropes, assumed the care of the house and its rich content of Colonial treasures, under the name of the ‘Ropes Memorial.’
As originally built, like so many dwellings of its period, the Ropes house stood close to the front of its lot. After the death of the fifth Nathaniel, it was moved back some distance from the street—the effect of the mellow brick walk, the richly carved and ornamented gate-posts, and the intervening lawn being greatly to enhance the dignified and simple beauty of the Ionic entrance with its six-paneled door.
CLOSER VIEW OF THE ROPES DOORWAY
This doorway was added in 1807. An original treatment of the fanlight and side-lights of leaded glass, which show a pattern of alternate ovals and circles, is to be noted. The supporting columns rest upon massive plinths of granite, lending an effect of solidity and permanence to the entire construction; the pure white of the woodwork being pleasantly relieved by the green shutters which back the side-lights.
Colonial hospitality took thought for the comfort of its guests even before they passed the hospitable threshold; and this is evidenced by the recession of the doorway in many old houses, so that visitors, lifting the heavy knocker to announce their arrival, and waiting for Abigail or Nancy to answer the summons, might find shelter under the broad lintel from searching east wind or pouring rain. The doorway of the Ropes house is of this type.
Tradition relates that in 1774 the Loyalist dwelling was attacked by a mob of patriotic enthusiasts. The death of the old judge, who at the time was lying upon a sick-bed, may have been expedited by the excitement of the occasion. Be that as it may, his end came on the day following.