CATHERINE STRANGE. 297 distinct with excess of light, and the pine-crowned rock, which was now invested with grandeur, would become but a subordinate feature. It is not a pleasing assemblage of beautiful parts in the scenery of nature, nor yet the time of the day, nor the peculiar circumstances of light or shadow under which it is beheld, that alone powerfully impresses the mind, and excites the most interesting emotions; recollections and associations unsolicited and often arbitrary in their operations, will sometimes make a little mound of earth, or a barrow on a barren hill, when the idea of sepulture is connected with them, of more importance to the feelings than mere picturesque beauty can possibly be. A cross by the road-side, to mark the place where a fellow-creature died, or a cairn of rugged stones heaped over the bodies of the dead, are beheld with far greater interest than rocks, and trees, and fields, and houses. The old edifice near Ashover is called Eastwood Hall, and a modern dwelling is now attached to the shattered walls that are left. It was once a structure of some importance, as its remaining windows and massy masonry denote. At a very early period, and probably soon after its first erection, it belonged to a family of the name of Reresby, in whose possession it remained until the reign of James the First, when Sir Thomas Reresby disposed of the manor which appertained to Eastwood Hall, that he might more amply provide for his two daughters. It is now vested in the widow and children of Mr. John Nodder. In 1762 the hall was sold to the governors of Queen Anne's bounty, for the purpose of augmenting the clerical stipend of the chapel of Brimington, near Chesterfield. Amongst the most distinguished individuals who have at any time been connected with the parish of Ashover, was Catharine Strange, who in the reign of Elizabeth was married to Richard Ďakeyne, Esq., of Over Stubbing. She was the daughter of the Earl of Rothes, and a great favourite with the unfortunate Mary Queen of Scots, to whom she was sincerely and warmly attached. With a fervour of friendship of which the female character is peculiarly susceptible, she softened by her attention the sorrows of her royal mistress whilst she was in confinement, and when the last sad scene of her life was closing in death, she accompanied her to the scaffold. One of the afflictions that pressed most heavily upon the last moments of Mary, arose from her inability to reward her attendants for the numerous offices of kindness, 298 CATHARINE STRANGE. and the many proofs of attachment, she had experienced from them. Whatever were her faults in other respects, she was. a tender and affectionate mistress, and never forgot the hand that served her; and one of her last requests to Elizabeth was, that she would be the friend of Catherine Strange. SECTION IV. Overton Hall.-Sir Joseph Banks.-South Winfield.-The Manor House.-Description of the Ruins.-Reflections on their present appearance.-Siege of the Manor House.Crich.-Friendly Societies.- Whit-Monday in Derbyshire. -Walk from Crich to Cromford.-Lea Wood.-Dethick.Historical Notice of Babington. WHEN we left Ashover, on the third morning of our rambles, preparations were making for a day of festivity. It was Whit-Monday, and the whole population of the village were busy as bees in preparing for the holiday. The thoughts of work were entirely abandoned, excepting amongst those who were the purveyors of good cheer for the public. The bellows of the smith were unemployed in the corner of his shop, and no fire blazed on his hearth: he was leaning against the shop-door with his brawny arms folded, and a group of idlers were collected around him, who evidently, thought less of labour than enjoyment. All the public-houses in the village were preparing entertainments for their guests, who had put on their best apparel in honour of Whit-Monday, and their good-humoured faces and frolic spirits, showed that they were determined to make the most of this annual festival. The morning of such a day is often far better than its close, which is occasionally disfigured by quarrelsome dispositions, and stained with riot and intemperance. Proceeding along the Mansfield road, a walk of about a mile brought us to Overton, a little village, that interested us more from the associations connected with it, than from any picturesque qualities it possesses: yet of these it is not deficient, An old mansion, surrounded with magnificent trees and lofty mountains, at the base of which some humble cottages are scattered, when viewed in connexion with each other, present a pleasing combination of forms and objects. Overton Hall was the property, and occasionally the residence, of Sir 300 RUINS OF SOUTH WINFIELD MANOR HOUSE. Joseph Banks, the late venerable president of the Royal Society. From the elevated situation this distinguished individual held, both in science and literature, and the space he occupied in the estimation of the public, I frankly confess that so long as he was sojourning amongst us, I could neither pass his house in London in Soho-Square, or his residence at Överton, without a feeling of veneration for his character. Two miles from Ashover we came upon the river Amber, near a small place called Wolley. The scenery here is beautifully picturesque: the hills are of considerable eminence, and well wooded, and the vale between is adorned with richly cultivated meadows, and a sparkling stream. Our principal object in this excursion was South Winfield, and the venerable ruins of the old manor near it. We therefore left the Mansfield road near Wolley, and for the purpose of shortening our journey some "mile or twain," we took a bye-path across the fields, and through some woods to Brackenfield and Wessington. We were told it was impossible to mistake our way, and we walked on with confidence until we found our progress impeded by high hedges and a close thicket, through which we could not pass. Notwithstanding the assurance we had received, we had pursued a wrong path, that terminated amongst the fields between Wessington and South Winfield, and had some difficulty in regaining the road from which we had departed, even though we saw the object of our journey at a short distance, on an eminence before us. At length we reached the place, and, having taken a short repast at a small public-house near the church, we proceeded immediately to the ruins of the manor castle. They occupy the summit of a steep hill, which appears to have been moated on three sides. The first view from the village of this dilapidated structure displays a fine assemblage of parts: mouldering towers, ruined arches, amongst which the dark ivy creeps, embattled parapets, and shattered walls, are seen rising above, and mingled with groves of venerable trees centuries older than the present building; the whole constituting not merely a beautiful but magnificent picture. We passed along the western front of this ancient edifice, and entered its deserted courts near the principal tower. It is sickening to contemplate such a scene of change and devastation as the interior view presents. From without the walls, the ruins, as I have before observed, have a most majestic effect: time has broken them into picturesque forms; the heart is interested, and the eye gratified, with all that it beholds; but within, dilapidation, disorder, and decay prevail, and the live and dead litter of a farm-yard disfigures the scene. The rents and fissures which time has made in the old walls, mended with modern masonry; the ornamented stone gothic windows, filled up with glaring brick, all blended together with the heavy but splendid architecture of former times, exhibit a mass of discordant materials, where the noble and the mean are used in tasteless confusion. "To what base uses we may return!-Why may not imagination trace the noble dust of Alexander till he find it stopping a bunghole? As thus, Alexander died; - Alexander was buried; -Alexander returned to dust;-the dust is earth; -of earth we make loam ; -and why of that loam whereto he was converted might they not stop a beer barrel? "Imperial Cæsar dead and turn'd to clay, O that that earth which kept the world in awe, It is even so, and the mutation which some of the most durable and splendid of the mansions of our forefathers have experienced, is scarcely less extraordinary. The interior courts of South Winfield Manor House are no more like what they were when Mary Queen of Scots was confined within them, than the living Alexander to a clod of lifeless matter. The buildings that formed nearly the whole of the southern court are now almost entirely destroyed, and the most magnificent part of this ancient edifice, its splendid hall and richly ornamented chapel, are totally roofless; and trees that lift their topmost branches far above the walls that mark their dimensions, now inhabit them. The natural operations of time alone, could not, in so short a period, have produced so great a change in a structure that appears to have been originally formed to bid defiance to his power. No!the devastating hand of man has been here at work, and the thunderbolts of war have shattered and defaced a structure which might otherwise have survived for ages. From the south court we passed through an arched gateway to the east side of the building, where, from a little verdant mound, we had a view of the ruins so brought together and combined, as to produce a most exquisite picture. A gothic arched gateway, connected with some mouldering walls, |