Two or three miles from the Navy Yard, on Kittery Point, stands the former residence of Sir William Pepperell.  It is a gambrel-roofed house, very long and spacious, and looks venerable and imposing from its dimensions.  A decent, respectable, intelligent woman admitted us, and showed us from bottom to top of her part of the house; she being a tenant of one half.  The rooms were not remarkable for size, but were panelled on every side.  The staircase is the best feature, ascending gradually, broad and square, and with an elaborate balustrade; and over the front door there is a wide window and a spacious breadth, where the old baronet and his guests, after dinner, might sit and look out upon the water and his ships at anchor.  The garret is one apartment, extending over the whole house.  The kitchen is very small,—­much too small for the credit of the house, were it not redeemed by the size of the fireplace, which originally could not have been less than fourteen feet, though now abridged by an oven, which has been built within it.  The hearth extends half-way across the floor of the kitchen.  On one side, the road passes close by the house; on the other, it stands within fifty yards of the shore.  I recollect no outhouses.  At a short distance, across the road, is a marble tomb, on the level slab of which is the Pepperell coat of arms, and an inscription in memory of Sir William’s father, to whom the son seems to have erected it,—­although it is the family tomb.  We saw no other trace of Sir William or his family.  Precisely a hundred years since he was in his glory.  None of the name now exist here,—­or elsewhere, as far as I know.  A descendant of the Sparhawks, one of whom married Pepperell’s daughter, is now keeper of a fort in the vicinity,—­a poor man.  Lieutenant Baker tells me that he has recently discovered a barrel full of the old family papers.

The house in Portsmouth now owned and occupied by the Rev. Mr. Burroughs was formerly the mansion of Governor Langdon.  It contains noble and spacious rooms.  The Doctor’s library is a fine apartment, extending, I think, the whole breadth of the house, forty or fifty feet, with elaborate cornices, a carved fireplace, and other antiquated magnificences.  It was, I suppose, the reception-room, and occasionally the dining-hall.  The opposite parlor is likewise large, and finished in excellent style, the mantelpiece being really a fine architectural specimen....  Doctor Burroughs is a scholar, rejoicing in the possession of an old, illuminated missal, which he showed us, adorned with brilliant miniatures and other pictures by some monkish hand.  It was given him by a commodore in the navy, who picked it up in Italy, without knowing what it was, nor could the learned professors of at least one college inform him, until he finally offered it to Dr. Burroughs, on condition that he should tell him what it was.  We likewise saw a copy of the famous “Breeches Bible,” and other knicknacks and curiosities which people have taken pleasure in giving to one who appreciated such things, and whose kindly disposition makes it a happiness to oblige him.  His house has entertained famous guests in the time of the old Governor,—­among them Louis Philippe, Talleyrand, Lafayette, and Washington, all of whom occupied successively the same chamber; besides, no doubt, a host of less world-wide distinguished persons.