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.