The kitchens, which lie between the Queen’s rooms and the banqueting hall, are likewise in a sad state; the depressed form of arch surmounting most of the doorways, despite the presence of “arches of construction,” are fast bowing their heads beneath the weight of masonry and the neglect of centuries. Adjoining the servants’ quarters and the banqueting hall are the state apartments, lighted by a huge and by no means beautiful window of Perpendicular times, if judged by the standard of excellence obtaining elsewhere in the fabric. A curious feature noticeable from the courtyard is the fact that this window, like the little gem of a round one above and the traceried lights below, is far from being central in the gable or in line with its neighbours above and below. [Illustration: The Undercroft: Wingfield.] The undercroft, more often known as the crypt—an ecclesiastical term possessing no right here—is of the same dimensions as the hall above. The ceiling is composed of beautifully wrought stone groins, with large circular bosses, cut with fine traceried designs; the springing of the arches is from the walls on either side and the five stone pillars in the centre respectively. This subterranean chamber has now begun to show most unmistakable signs of the gross neglect which so characterizes the remainder of the house, for the stone ribs of the vaulting have fallen over the eastern entrance—and there they lie. The entrances to this undercroft are four in number—one at the north-west corner, one at the south-west, one at the south-east, and one in the centre of the east end. Three of them communicate directly with the banqueting hall above, whilst the fourth opens into the open air. This cellar-like room has been described as the chapel, and also as the retainers’ hall, but the general opinion of those whose opinion is worthy of consideration is that it was a general store house for the huge retinue of owner, guests, and prisoner; such was no doubt its use, but what the intentions of its builders were is quite another question. The inner courtyard with which I have just dealt is far better preserved than its southern neighbour, which seems to have proved a better mark for Gell’s big guns and Halton’s destructive genius than the other. The entrance gate to the inner court is fairly well preserved, but the greater part of the rest is in but a sorry plight. The great entrance on the east is shorn of its upper storey, but the adjoining barn is in a delightful state of repair, and is of a nature to arouse the enthusiasm of students of our mediæval barns.