w entrance to its portal.
Inside I found an extremely rich polychromed Renaissance "reredos," and
there was also the somewhat remarkable tomb of "Claude Talon," kept in
good order and repair.

Oudenaarde was famed for the part it played in the history of Flanders,
and was also the birthplace of Margaret of Parma. It was long the
residence of Mary of Burgundy, and gave shelter to Charles the Fifth,
who sought the protection of its fortifications during the siege of
Tournai in 1521.

Here, too, Marlborough vanquished the French in 1708. I might go on for
a dozen more pages citing the names of remarkable personages who gave
fame to the town, which now is simply wiped from the landscape. But by
some miracle, it is stated, the Town Hall still stands practically
uninjured. I have tried in vain to substantiate this, or at least to
obtain some data concerning it, but up to this writing my letters to
various officials remain unanswered.

I like to think of Oudenaarde as I last saw it--the huge black door of
the church yawning like a gaping chasm, the square partly filled with
devout peasants in holiday attire for the church fete, whatever it was.
Part of the procession had passed beyond the gloom of the vast aisles
into the frank openness of daylight. Between the walls of the small
houses at either hand a long line of figures was marching with many
silken banners. There seemed to be an interminable line of young
girls--first communicants, I fancied,--in all the purity of their white
veils and gowns against the somber dull grays of the church. This mass
of pure white was of dazzling, startling effect, something like a great
bed of white roses.

[Illustration: Old Square and Church: Oudenaarde]

Then came a phalanx of nuns clad in brown--I know not what their order
was--their wide white cowls or coifs serving only to accentuate the
pallor of their grave faces, veritable "incarnations of meek
renunciation," as some poet has beautifully expressed it.

Then followed a group of seminarians clad in the lace and scarlet of
their order, swinging to and fro their brazen censers from which poured
fragrant clouds of incense.

All at once a curious murmur came from the multitude, followed by a
great rustling, as the whole body of people sank to their knees, and
then I saw beyond at a distance across the square, the archbishop's
silken canopy, and beneath it a venerable figure with upraised arms,
elevating the Host.

Surely a momen