Kenilworth ruins remind one of a _puzzle_, a few of the pieces of which have been lost, but are so few as to be readily supplied. The ruins are principally Late Perpendicular, but there are some Norman portions. Cæar's Tower, of which three sides remain, has walls sixteen feet thick. John of Gaunt's large and massive additions are in decay; and the Leicester Buildings, though comparatively modern, present, from the friable nature of the stone, an appearance of great antiquity: they contain the remains of the noble banqueting-hall. The gate-house, also Leicester's, is better preserved, and has in our time been occupied as a farm-house. The ruins are, in many parts, mantled with ivy, which adds to their picturesqueness; and being on an elevated, rocky site, they command extensive views of the country round: "Grey memory of centuries past, Proud Kenilworth! How dear The charm that mellowing time hath cast Over thy portals drear. Thy battlements are crumbling now, And ivy decks thy faded brow. "Green grows the moss, where banners told Ambitions Leicester's hour of pride; Years their all-changing course have roll'd-- All tenantless the chambers wide. Bank weeds upon the portals grow; Noble and knight, where are ye now?" Traditional tales of the festive joys of Kenilworth linger on the spot; and among other things, it is told that the great clock was stopped during Elizabeth's stay at the castle, as if Time had stood still, waiting on the Queen, and seeing her subjects enjoying themselves! Arundel Castle, the last baronial home we have to describe, is a seat of great historic interest, derived from the long list of warriors and statesmen, whose names are identified with the place; and whose deeds, during the lapse of eight centuries, have shed lustre on our national history: "Since William rose, and Harold fell, There have been Counts of Arundel; And earls old Arundel shall have While rivers flow and forests wave."