I Write, As Always, Of What Was
Recently, And Of What I Have Seen Myself; To-Day They Are Probably
Heaps of smoking ruin, and sanguinary altars to German "kultur."
Nieuport-Ville, so called in distinction from its dull little
Watering-place understudy, Nieuport-les-Bains, which lies a couple
of miles to the west of it, among the sand-dunes by the mouth of
the Yser, and is hardly worth a visit unless you want to bathe -
Nieuport-Ville, in addition to its old yellow-brick Halles, or
Cloth Hall, and its early Tour des Templiers, is remarkable for
its possession of a fascinating church, the recent restoration of
which has been altogether conservative and admirable. Standing
here, in this rich and picturesque interior, you realize strongly
the gulf in this direction between Belgium and France, in which
latter country, in these days of ecclesiastical poverty, loving
restoration of the kind here seen is rare, and whose often
neglected village churches seldom, or never, exhibit that wealth
of marble rood-screen and sculptured woodwork - of beaten brass
and hammered iron - that distinguishes Belgian church interiors
from perhaps all others on earth. The church has also some highly
important brasses, another detail, common of course in most
counties of England, that is now never, or hardly ever, found in
France. Chief, perhaps, among these is the curious, circular brass
- I hope it has escaped - with figures of husband, wife, and
children, on a magnificently worked background, that is now
suspended on the northwest pier of the central crossing.
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Words from 1703 to 1960
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