By day, my companion and I were sweaty hikers munching trail mix on our way to the top of Mount Kearsarge or to the spectacular Arethusa Falls in the surrounding White Mountain National Forest. By night, we dressed for dinner and dined by silver lamplight next to a sputtering fire in the inn's dining room.
Built in 1869, the inn was originally a wedding gift from Captain Joshua Trickey to his daughter and her husband. The couple expanded the property into a resort with its own farm, greenhouses, dairy, and blacksmith shop.
By 1894, The Boston Globe had dubbed ''Wentworth Hall" a famous hostelry. ''Hither . . . come persons of intellectual culture and love of the beautiful, and settle down with their books, pictures, and music, live an ideal country life. It is not a hotel; it is a home of the utmost quiet elegance," the article said.
Soaking in Room 408's two-person Jacuzzi with the Rolling Stones piped in on a speaker from an entertainment center, I could at least agree this was an ''ideal" life. A gas-burning fireplace gave the bedroom, with its botanical prints, a warm glow, and a cozy nook offered just the right space for reading or a game of Scrabble.
Other deluxe rooms have private outdoor hot tubs with views of the mountains. Jacuzzi suites also include generous supplies of scented bath salts and luxurious white robes, and tiled showers for quicker bathing.
Renovations have left the suites in the Arden cottages, built in 1880, feeling almost brand new, while the rooms in the main hall retain a creaky, antique quality. The dining room evokes the past with wavy panes of old glass in the windows and dried roses on the white-linen-covered tables.
While good quality food isn't hard to come by among the many bed-and-breakfasts in this region, the food here during a three-night stay rivaled that of a four-star hotel. Chef Brian Gazda, formerly of the Boston Harbor Hotel, cooked succulent beef tenderloin with broccoli rabe and served baby shrimp and spinach gnocchi as light as the wilted pea tendrils that came with the dish.
