THE WENTWORTH HOUSE
One of the most historic houses in New Hampshire is situated at Little Harbor, about two miles from the city of Portsmouth. It was built in the latter sixteenth century, or early seventeenth, the exact date not being known, for the records of the early days were carelessly kept, so that there is nothing legible to determine the time of its erection. The houses that were built during this period are generally of such a distinct type that there is little or no difficulty in placing them and ascertaining their age.
Plate L.—The Wentworth House, Little Harbor, N. H.
This is not true of the Wentworth Mansion, for its design does not definitely indicate the architecture of any special period. One does not wonder, when history tells us that it was bought by Governor Bennington Wentworth in 1750, that it was at that time simply a farmhouse of moderate size which had been occupied by one of the earliest settlers in this section, whose name has never been handed down.
After its purchase, great pains were taken to make it an attractive and habitable house. Rooms were added, and ells were built, until it assumed its present size. It is a stately pile, with wings joined to either side of the long main building, occupying three sides of a hollow square, and showing open ends facing the water.
Its original appearance has been carefully maintained by the present owner, who occupies the estate as a summer residence. With great care the garden has been restored to the distinctly old-fashioned type, while all the memorable traditions of the building have been preserved. There is about it an atmosphere differing from most houses of that time, partly due to its retired situation.
From the high road one enters the curving avenue to seek the house, hidden from the entrance behind hills and trees. The main entrance is the same as in the governor's day. There is a second entrance, however, nearer the house, through which we get glimpses of the mansion beyond. This is flanked by two marble statues, one of which represents an angler dressed in colonial costume, while the second is a hunter, armed with a Rip Van Winkle fowling-piece.
They seem to extend, with outstretched arms, a mute welcome to the guest, for hospitality has ever been a characteristic of the Wentworth mansion.
The grounds are extensive and are laid out in lawns and grass lands. The house is surrounded by shade trees, some of which were there when the governor occupied the mansion.
Its exterior shows a gray finish, the same coloring that was originally in use. The porch through which the house is entered is the same one through which Washington passed when, during his visit to Portsmouth, he came to this mansion on his return from a fishing trip, and was royally entertained by the widow of Governor Wentworth.
The rear of the house faces the harbor, at the spot where the governor's wharf used to be, for in the early days ships were anchored near by, and their officers were frequently entertained at the mansion.
It is said that in the early days of its occupancy by the governor, a secret passage connected the house with the wharf, and boats were kept always in waiting, ready to be off at a moment's notice. This was done so that the unpopular head of the government might escape at any time if an attempt was made to take his life.
On a neighboring island which is in plain sight, there were several small houses, moved there on a scow.
Governor Wentworth, who was the first owner of this house, was the governor of New Hampshire during the most troublesome times of our country's history. He was elected in 1741 and served for twenty-five years, during which period he conducted the affairs of government through stormy times and two bloody wars, and there is little doubt that he administered the affairs as well as most men could have done under such trying circumstances. It is well known, however, that he pleased neither people nor king. At the end of his term of office he was courteously superseded by his nephew, John Wentworth, whose popularity had won him favor.
It was then, in 1767, that Governor Wentworth retired to the colonial home at Portsmouth. During his administration, his wife and his children had died. Lonely and discouraged, he offered himself in marriage to one Molly Pitman, who chose instead Richard Shortridge, a mechanic by trade. Doubtless through his instigation, because piqued at the indignity of her refusal, a press gang seized Shortridge and carried him away. He was sent from ship to ship, until a friendly officer listened to his sad tale and allowed him to escape and return home, to find his wife still true, although tempted by the allurements of wealth.
Not cast down, however, by his ill luck, the governor soon after made the house at Little Harbor his all-the-year-round home. The house became the rendezvous for prominent personages—not only in New Hampshire, but through the land. During one dinner party given to distinguished guests an important event occurred. In the governor's employ was a girl of most attractive personality, who had entered the house as a domestic, and bore the name of Martha Hilton. Her beauty attracted the attention of the governor, so that he desired to marry her. Among the guests was one Reverend Arthur Brown, of the Episcopal church. The dinner was served in the style becoming to the governor's table. Just as it was over, the governor whispered, so low that no one else could hear, to a messenger who stood near by. Then Martha Hilton came in through the hall door, on the west side of the parlor, and looking down, a blush upon her cheek, took her stand in front of the open fireplace.
She did not bring anything with her, nor did she seem to expect to take anything out. The governor, his hair bleached with the frost of sixty winters, arose, and turning to the rector, he asked: "Mr. Brown, will you marry me?"
The pastor looked up aghast. "To whom?" he asked.
Stepping to Martha's side, and taking her hand in his, the governor answered: "To this lady."
The rector still stood confounded, and the governor, angered by the delay, in an imperative manner said: "As the Governor of New Hampshire, I command you to marry us."
Then and there, in the presence of the assembled guests, the ceremony was duly performed, and Martha Hilton became Madam Wentworth. As a careless, laughing girl, barefooted, and carrying a pail of water, with a dress scarcely sufficient to cover her, Martha was said to have declared: "No matter how I look, I shall ride in my chariot yet," and she now achieved her ambition. In a charming little poem Longfellow relates this incident and assures us that she filled the position with great dignity.
The old governor did not live long to enjoy his New Hampshire home. His widow, however, soon forgot her solitude, after rejecting many offers of marriage, for we read of her marriage not very long afterwards to Michael Wentworth, a retired colonel of the British army. One daughter, Martha, was born as the fruit of their marriage.
In 1789 Washington came to Portsmouth to visit the Wentworth mansion. He sailed into the harbor on one of his ships and was received with characteristic hospitality by Colonel Michael Wentworth and his lady, both of whom accorded him a royal welcome.
The colonel was a high liver and prided himself on his horsemanship. The legend runs that he started from Boston at eight o'clock in the morning and arrived in Portsmouth at 6 o'clock in the afternoon, a feat which was considered remarkable.
He was not master of the house for many years, for he died suddenly in 1795. After his death, Sir John Wentworth, a lawyer in Portsmouth, married Martha Wentworth, the daughter, and they occupied the house in Little Harbor together with Madam Wentworth until the time of her death in 1805. Upon their departure to Europe in 1816, the house passed out of the family.
The house stands as it was built, the massive door, three inches in thickness, at its main entrance, showing enormous locks and strapped hinges that extended eighteen inches in either direction. Strap hinges were a necessity in those days, as the doors were fastened together with wooden pegs, and unless this precaution was taken, they would sag.
Plate LI.—Hallway, Wentworth House.
One enters a narrow vestibule which gives into an inner hallway. This, too, is narrow, severely plain, and strictly colonial in type. The old staircase has hand-carved balusters. There is no change in the panelling upon the walls, and the original bull's-eyes are in the door opposite the entrance.
The hallway leads at the left into a colonial dining-room, with rich panelling, and an old fireplace which is large enough to hold a yule log. The room is spacious and fitted with furnishings of colonial type. Over the mantel is hung an old powder-horn and flint-lock, while at one side are colonial relics: a cabinet of old china and a Sheraton table with late mahogany chairs form the furnishings.
Adjoining the dining-room is a large pantry, which contains some ovens that were at one time used for the making of rum, doubtless partaken of very freely during the governor's residence there.
Plate LII.—Dance Hall, Wentworth House, showing Marble Fireplace.
Plate LIII.—Room in Wentworth House where Martha Hilton was made Bride; Council Chamber, Wentworth House.
At the right of the hallway is the present living-room, where are many relics of the old governor; in one corner is a chair in which he sat. The old fireplace before which Martha Hilton stood on her wedding night is in this room.
Passing through, one reaches a narrow landing and a short flight of stairs which connect with the hallway below, where we come upon the original entrance. The walls on either side over the door are decorated with arms. These are thirteen in number, and are the muskets of the governor's guard, so long ago dismissed. Yonder is the Council Chamber. In this spacious apartment for many years were discussed public affairs of the utmost importance; heated debates were carried on in the stormy times that ante-dated the Revolution. It is finished in the best style of the last century, the carved work around the mantel taking more than a year's work with the knife and chisel of a master carpenter.
Around the room were formerly a great many pictures of the family. Among them was a choice painting by Copley of the beautiful Dorothy Quincy who became the wife of John Hancock, and who came frequently to visit in Portsmouth. There were wonderful pictures of Secretary Waldron, who was killed by the Indians at Dover, and also of his son Westbrook. Sofas and rare bits of colonial furniture furnished the room in the governor's day, and the closely jointed, smooth white floors, which are none the worse for a century's wear, have been pressed by the feet of many a merry dancer.
We look at pictures of the old-time occupants, in periwigs and silver buckles, who people the shadows in the dim grandeur of this wonderful old room. In one corner still stands a rack, with sixteen flint-locks, some of which have bayonets attached. This stand of arms was discovered by the present owner hidden away under plaster. Just what is concealed to-day in the old house is not known, for it has never been fully explored. Naturally one conjectures secret closets and hidden passageways, such as were built in many houses of that period.
Beyond is the billiard-room. There is now no billiard table but instead a spinning-wheel, and a dainty, old-fashioned spinet upon which little Martha Wentworth learned to play. One wonders if it was in this room that Madam Wentworth dropped her ring to be picked up by the maid. All at once the maid became near-sighted, and it was not until Martha herself stooped down and touched her ring that it could be found.
Several smaller rooms lead out of the billiard-room. They were used in the olden times as card-rooms, and here many a close rubber was played by the great and reverend patriots of the land.
Underneath is a huge, rambling cellar where the builder of the mansion kept stalls for thirty horses, ready at a moment's notice to be off. The gun-rack in the hall of the Council Chamber does much to convince us that the great man whose personality is stamped so deeply on this interesting pile, must have led a very uneasy life. There were no descendants to inherit the old home, but he left a lasting memorial to himself in the house which embodied so many of his ideals.