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��THE GRANITE MONTHLY.
��THE WARNER HOME AT PORTSMOUTH.
��EV FRED MYRON COLBY.
��No one can walk the tree-arched streets of Portsmouth — streets which have witnessed more sights, and grander ones, than ahiiost any other in America — and gaze upon its grand old houses, filled with the treasures and traditions of colonial times, and not have rise within him a feeling of appreciative reverence and respectful homage for the men and women who gave character and fame to this city by the sea." Magical names are those that once made Portsmouth famous, and still make her dear to all who love brave deeds and a glorious past. VVentworth, Langdon, Warner, Sherburne, Sheafe, Penhallow, Haven, Whipple, Jaffrey, — are they not his- toric names v*'hich need neither crest nor motto nor escutcheon to show that blood as blue as the waters of Pis- cataqua still flows through Portsmouth families? Emblematic of the storied past that envvreaths these names and the houses they lived in, pointing sig- nificantly to peace, prosperity, and a certain pride that is self-respecting and respected, are those urn-topped ])0sts, that stand like stately sentinels guarding the gateways of these ancient mansions. They tell a story well- defined and serious of greatness and patrician wealth and courtly ease almost e(|ual to the loftier structure itself which sheltered the generations of the past.
The sculptured jjosts and gateways are typical, we say : the houses them- •selves not only represent ideas, but they tell of a history and a social life remarkable alike for its picturesque charm and romantic interest. To the mind of the reflective visitor there is something in the manorial chimneys and the dadoed walls of the homes of our forefathers, that produces involun- tary impressions of grandeur and re- spect, and conjures to fancy an image
��of antiquity, at once attractive and touching. Nor is this sentiment the offspring of modern refinement simply. The large, roomy apartments, wain- scotted, with deep fire-places, costly moulding, embrasured windows, and paintings from the hands of dead masters, are cosy, comfortable, and luxurious themselves. We know by experience how pleasant it is of a summer morning or a winter evening to be ushered into one of these shad- ed parlors. The rich coloring that was gorgeous and brilliant has been softened and mellowed by age ; the furniture, antique in shape and style, has been polished by many hands — carved and claw-footed tables that grimly frown at us, convex mirrors that reflect to their depths a dimin- ished picture of v/hat passes before them and seem emblematic of the past, chairs of heavy and ornamental pattern that may have come over in the Mayflower — all these appealto the heart and tell stirring tales rich with an Arabesque splendor, so that
" The tide of time llow'd back with me, '1 he forward tlowinij,' tide of time."
W hile looking down upon it all were portraits of kings' councillors, colonial governors, and patrician dames, whose descendants live in these houses, and who bear in manner and in breeding those unmistakable marks which only ancient lineage can give.
The Warner house is one of the grandest as it is one of the most in- teresting of these old mansions of our State which are the delight of anti- tjuarians. Constructed about the time that saw Westover rise on James river and Phillipse Manor House on the Pludson, it resembles them some- what. Like them it is Imilt of brick, three stories in height, with gambreled roof and luthern windows. The walls
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