At Hardwick, the old custom of building round a court, which we have met with at Haddon and Wingfield, was abandoned; the idea of adopting defensive precautions had no part in its arrangement—it was frankly intended for display and cheerfulness. But the courtyard still survived up and down the country, although rather for convenience than for defence. In some cases it became so contracted as to be little more than a well, admitting a modicum of light and air. Such contracted courts are both cheerless and insanitary, especially when they were made the meeting place of the household drains; and in many instances they have been roofed over in modern times and incorporated into the house itself.

Barlborough, in the north-east corner of the county, is a case in point. It is a house with an interesting plan, being almost square in shape, yet contriving to obtain the kind of rooms and the general disposition which were usual at the time. The effect is quaint, especially as the octagonal bays are carried up above the roof to form turrets. The small central court has been converted into a staircase. The builder was Francis Rodes, a judge, like many of the builders of Elizabethan houses. It is almost contemporary with Hardwick, as it was built in 1583–84. It bears its date on the pedestal of the pillars flanking the front door, and students of by-gone architecture cannot be too thankful to the old masons for having dated their work so frequently as they did. Nor is our gratitude less for the fashion which made heraldry one of the chief sources of ornamentation. No doubt the display of arms and badges was a weakness of the worthy people of that age. It is even conceivable that men who achieved their own fortunes, as many did under Elizabeth, unduly emphasized their ancient descent, and occasionally recorded as facts what really were surmises. But anyone who has spent time in ferreting out the history of an old house is very willing to condone this foible in return for the clues with which it furnishes him.

Far be it from us, however, to throw any doubt on Francis Rodes’s heraldry; it serves to fix beyond a doubt who was the builder of Barlborough. In the drawing-room is a handsome, lofty chimney-piece, which is quite characteristic of the times. It displays the arms and the effigies of Francis Rodes and his two wives, and is dated 1584. There seems to have been no hesitation in those days about second marriages. Whatever poets may have said about the marriage of true minds, and the lasting passion of one man for one woman, neither man nor woman forbore from marrying again and again, nor did they conceal from the later spouses the charms and the arms of the earlier. Here, for instance, on this chimney-piece are the arms, the name, and the office of Francis Rodes set forth at large, and below are two other shields with his arms impaling severally those of his two wives, each shield being supported by a representation of himself and the wife whose arms are impaled. To remedy any defect in the sculptor’s portraiture, or for the benefit of future generations who knew not the ladies in the flesh, their names are legibly printed at their sides—“Elizabeth Sandford,” “Maria Charleton.”

Snitterton Hall.

So far, all the houses mentioned have been of considerable size or well-established fame; but scattered about the county, in small villages or among the dales or on the hill-sides, are numerous manor houses, the homes of the small gentry or of the well-to-do yeomen. There are some of these near Hathersage, several of which belonged to various branches of the family of Eyre. North Lees is one, in a retired situation and falling to decay, at least so far as its decoration is concerned; one deserted room still retains some of its panelling and a fretted ceiling. Its stone walls, mullioned windows, and bold chimneys lend an air of romance to the house half-hidden among the trees. Highlow Hall is another of the group, chiefly notable for the quaint gateway which leads to the entrance court. Not far away is Offerton Hall, now a farmhouse, but an excellent example of the planning and simple architectural treatment of a small house of the early seventeenth century. Near Matlock is Snitterton Hall, the remains of a rather more considerable house, with remnants of a lay-out, and with many of its contemporary farm buildings. These are but a few of those which might be named, and the wanderer in out-of-the-way places will often be rewarded by the discovery of these links with the past.

There is no notable example within the county of the work of the later seventeenth century, of the time rendered famous by Inigo Jones and Sir Christopher Wren. But of the period which succeeded them, when the rules of classic architecture were firmly established, and spontaneity in design had given way to propriety, there are one or two specimens. Of these the most characteristic is Kedleston. This great house was designed in the grandest manner of the time. It was to have had a large central block, with four outlying pavilions attached to it by curved colonnades, but two of the pavilions were never built. This place well illustrates the prevalent method of designing mansions. The principal floor was devoted to functions of state, and is occupied by large and lofty apartments, far too huge for comfort. They resemble apartments in some large public building. The family rooms are tucked away in a basement beneath the state apartments. It was the fashion of the age. Architecture was chiefly a means for display; the noble conceptions of the architect left his clients with scarce a comfortable corner for themselves. The surroundings of the house are also characteristic. It is itself placed in a somewhat haphazard position, backed by a range of trees; the stables are concealed by trees, and approached by a covered way; in the park is a bridge, so placed as to group in a casual way with the house: the whole idea being to obtain a pictorial effect, without any consideration for convenience of approach or convenient arrangement when the house is reached.

Such were the tours de force of the times, when wealth helped, and there were no restraining conditions; when the architect had a free hand to design, and the client another to pay. But in cases where the opportunities were more limited, the results were more reasonable, and such houses as Foremark are quite satisfactory. They have not the sparkle of their predecessors, it is true, but they combine dignity with comfort. Calke Abbey, lying hidden amid its ancient woodlands, is another fine example of the time.

There are not a few good specimens of formal gardens in the county. Haddon has terraced gardens which hardly receive the attention they deserve, so much is the interest of the visitor absorbed by the house. Eyam Hall, in the village rendered famous by the heroism and energy of its rector during a visitation of the plague, has a simple lay-out of walls and steps and formal paths. Locko rejoices in terraced gardens judiciously laid out, and resulting in admirable though simple effects. But the finest gardens are at Melbourne, in the south of the county, where stately vistas cross each other and give distant glimpses of urns or statues, which themselves are worth careful inspection when at length they are reached. The effect is increased by placing some notable feature, such as a fine vase, at the meeting of several avenues; seen thus again and again from unexpected points, it adds to the apparent extent and intricacy of the lay-out. There is a long walk completely tunnelled over with dense yew hedges, and down in the bottom is a placid pool where sportive cupids play.