rom the magnificence of the great tower. I
use the word "great" too often, I fear, but can find no other word in
the language to qualify these "Campanili" of Flanders.

This one was embellished with what are known as "ogival arcatures,"
arranged in zones or ranks, and there were four immense turrets, one at
each corner, these being in turn covered with arcatures of the same
character. These flanked the large open-work, gilded, clock face.
Surmounting this upon a platform was a construction in the purely
Flemish style, containing the chime of bells, and the machinery of the
carillon, and topping all was a sort of inverted bulb or gourd-shaped
turret, covered with blue slate, with a gilded weathervane about which
the rooks flew in clouds.

The counterpart of this tower was not to be found anywhere in the
Netherlands, and one is surprised that it was so little known.

[Illustration: The Towers of St. Winoc: Bergues]

Upon the occasion of our visit the town was given up to the heavy and
stolid festivities of the "Kermesse," which is now of interest here only
to the laboring class and the small farmers of the region. The center of
attraction, as we found in several other towns, seemed to be an
incredibly fat woman emblazoned on a canvas as the "Belle Heloise" who
was seated upon a sort of throne draped in red flannel, and exhibited a
pair of extremities resembling in size the masts of a ship, to the great
wonder of the peasants. There were also some shabby merry-go-rounds with
wheezy organs driven by machinery, and booths in which hard-featured
show women were frying waffles in evil smelling grease. After buying
some of these for the children who stood about with watering mouths,
we left the "Kermesse" and wandered away down a silent street towards a
smaller tower rising from a belt of dark trees.

This we found to be the remains of the ancient abbey of St. Winoc. A
very civil mannered young priest who overtook us on the road informed us
of this, and volunteered further the information that we were in what
was undoubtedly the ancient _jardin-clos_ of the Abbey. Of this retreat
only the two towers standing apart in the long grass remained, one very
heavy and square, supported by great buttresses of discolored brick, the
other octangular, in stages, and retaining its high graceful steeple.

We were unable to gain entrance to either of these towers, the doorways
being choked with weeds and the debris of fallen masonry. [Th