name, accepting the
hand, and what there was of the heart, of Michael Wentworth, a retired
colonel of the British army, who came to this country in 1767. Colonel
Wentworth (not connected, I think, with the Portsmouth branch of
Wentworths) seems to have been of a convivial turn of mind. He shortly
dissipated his wife's fortune in high living, and died abruptly in New
York--it was supposed by his own hand. His last words--a quite unique
contribution to the literature of last words--were, "I have had my
cake, and ate it," which showed that the colonel within his own modest
limitations was a philosopher.

The seat of Governor Wentworth at Little Harbor--a pleasant walk from
Market Square--is well worth a visit. Time and change have laid their
hands more lightly on this rambling old pile than on any other of the
old homes in Portsmouth. When you cross the threshold of the door
you step into the colonial period. Here the Past seems to have halted
courteously, waiting for you to catch up with it. Inside and outside the
Wentworth mansion remains nearly as the old governor left it; and though
it is no longer in the possession of the family, the present owners, in
their willingness to gratify the decent curiosity of strangers, show a
hospitality which has always characterized the place.

The house is an architectural freak. The main building--if it is the
main building--is generally two stories in height, with irregular wings
forming three sides of a square which opens in the water. It is, in
brief, a cluster of whimsical extensions that look as if they had
been built at different periods, which I believe was not the case. The
mansion was completed in 1750. It originally contained fifty-two rooms;
a portion of the structure was removed about half a century ago, leaving
forty-five apartments. The chambers were connected in the oddest manner,
by unexpected steps leading up or down, and capricious little passages
that seem to have been the unhappy afterthoughts of the architect. But
it is a mansion on a grand scale, and with a grand air. The cellar was
arranged for the stabling of a troop of thirty horse in times of
danger. The council-chamber, where for many years all questions of vital
importance to the State were discussed, is a spacious, high-studded
room, finished in the richest style of the last century. It is said that
the ornamentation of the huge mantel, carved with knife and chisel,
cost the workman a year's constant labo