In front of the altar there is a large slab to William Lewis. He was elected from Hart Hall at Oxford to the Society of Oriel, in 1608, and made provost by the favour of Welshmen. There are conflicting statements about his character. Cromwell’s party say that his amours were so extraordinary that he was obliged to fly from the country to escape the officers of justice; but the Royalists maintain that he was an excellent man, learned in theology, who went abroad to serve the King. Anthony Wood, in his “Fasti Oxonienses,” says that “he was made a D.D. by command of the King.” He went as Buckingham’s chaplain--with a sinecure office, I should think--to the siege of Rochelle, of which he wrote an account. He was Master of St. Cross; but on the defeat of Charles was succeeded by Lisle the regicide, who sat in the Long Parliament for Winchester. Lisle’s widow was beheaded in the Market Place in Winchester, for harbouring fugitives from Sedgemoor.[100] After his promotion to the Upper House, another regicide, Cooke, became Master, and after his execution, Lewis returned and ended his life here in peace. [Sidenote: Hall of St. Cross.] Our guide now directed us to the hall--built in 1440--and here called attention to the Minstrels’ Gallery, the fine original roof, the mysterious triptych painting, and the central hearth whence in olden times the smoke ascended through a hole in the roof. This aperture was long preserved, and on “gaudy days”--of which there are five in the year--a charcoal fire is still lit there for “Auld Lang Syne.” On those days there is a grand roast of half an ox, minus the leg, and each man has five pounds of meat, a mince-pie, and plum pudding. “And who sits in that chair?” asked the inquiring lady, indicating the principal one at the table. “Nobody, ma’am,” he replied, “at present. But on gaudy days the Master sits in it.” “Is he one of the brethren?” “God bless your soul, no, ma’am,” he returned; “he’s a minister of the gospel.” We were shown Cardinal Beaufort’s rude wooden salt-cellars and candlesticks, and in the kitchen his battered round pewter dish, which gave us no great idea of his splendour; but probably he was doing the humble when he stayed here. Thence we went over to the eastern side of the quadrangle, where there is a cloister supporting some decayed apartments--perhaps erected by De Blois. Here is a table of Purbeck marble, said to have been used in the Castle, and which as it is not round enough for King Arthur, is usually attributed to King Stephen. “Would you like to see the nunnery?” inquired our guide.