Overlooking Love and Loss: The Story Behind Rhode Island’s Hannah Robinson Tower

Just off Route 1 in South Kingstown stands a quiet wooden tower that has seen generations of visitors climb its stairs to glimpse the sweeping views of Narragansett Bay. But for many Rhode Islanders, the Hannah Robinson Tower is far more than a scenic lookout—it’s a bittersweet symbol of lost love, family conflict, and the kind of story that lingers through time.

The tower, rising 40 feet above the rolling hills and marshland, was built in the 1930s by the Civilian Conservation Corps as a roadside attraction. But the legend it honors dates back to the 18th century—when a young woman’s heart led her down a path her wealthy father couldn’t accept.

Hannah Robinson was born in 1746, the daughter of Rowland Robinson, one of the wealthiest landowners in South County. Her family’s home was at Smith’s Castle in North Kingstown, and she was raised in privilege and status. But when Hannah met Peter Simon, a French dancing teacher from Newport, her world shifted. Despite her father’s fierce objections, she fell in love—and married Peter in secret.

The consequences were swift and cruel. Rowland disowned her. Without financial support, the couple struggled, and Peter’s charm began to fade. Some say he became cold and abusive. Others claim he had only pursued Hannah for her money. Whatever the truth, Hannah’s health began to deteriorate.

Years later, suffering from tuberculosis and heartbreak, she was convinced by her father to return home. It was during that journey, in a carriage crossing Tower Hill, that she asked to stop and look out over the land she once knew. From a rocky outcrop, she gazed toward the Bay, the wind catching her shawl. It was the last time she would see the place where she had once danced, loved, and lost.

She died soon after, at just 27 years old.

Today, the Hannah Robinson Tower stands near the spot where she stopped on that final ride home. The site includes a memorial rock where visitors still leave flowers or notes. There’s no admission fee, no crowds—just a wooden staircase leading up to a platform where you can see what Hannah saw: fields turning gold in the afternoon light, the Bay shimmering beyond the trees, and the wind moving through the tall grass like a whispered story.

Locals still bring children there to tell the tale. Teenagers carve their initials in the wood. Some couples propose under the tower’s shadow. And every so often, someone pauses not just to admire the view, but to feel the quiet weight of a love that defied a time and a family, and left behind a legacy carved into the Rhode Island landscape