I roll into Gisors, following the ‘Monument Historique’ signs and before I know it the castle wall appears on my left. Ideal, if I could just get to it… A circus has come to town and has parked up in the area around the entrance.
Over the circus tent and caravans, the castle looks rather tasty: a huge curtain wall behind which I can see a stone stronghold topped with a red flag. It must have a magnificent view over the land to the south. I am impressed. According to his letter, however, the young Lawrence was not.
“I left with great regret for Gisors which was disappointing, (a large castle, but all the towers locked up).”
I find an entrance in the outer wall and go inside. Nowadays the castle at Gisors is a municipal park, with stretches of grass and cedar trees surrounding the central stronghold, a lovely stone pile sitting on a conical mound twenty metres high. The section of curtain wall giving onto the town is gone, so there is a view onto the town church and the backs of several houses in style normand. The castle dates from around 1095 and was built by the Norman/English kings as a frontier defense against the Kings of France. In those days, the bailey inside the curtain wall would have been networked with narrow streets of wooden dwellings or set aside for pens into which the animals could be brought in times of danger. Now it is all very civilised: a lawn with benches and beds of flowers and and an apple press in honour of Normandy’s cider. A woman walks by, her shitsu trotting at her side on a lead. There’s even a book exchange.
I make my way across to the principal gate, leading down to the town, which is under restoration. It is two gates, in fact, a classic double defence, with a turn to make it harder for attackers. Once they had battled their way through the first gate, with its portcullises and machiolations, they would have found themselves with a second tower to overcome, and defenders perfectly positioned to prevent them.
But of course it’s the main stronghold I want to visit, the stone tower on its 20-metre outcrop. A path, hidden by a hedge, encircles the mound. I find my way to the gate. And it is locked up… Just as it was in Lawrence’s day…
But if there is a message that emanates from Lawrence’s of Arabia’s life it is probably along the lines of ‘Be bold and be prepared to break a few rules to accomplish a goal’. It was an attitude he was known to have even as a youth (his friend CFC Beeson recalled a cracking noise as the young Lawrence broke a pew in order to get to an inscription in a church once).
So I hop over the fence and strike up the path, knowing that it encircles the mound, so eventually, inevitably, I will be visible from 360 degrees around. I have no idea if there is a functionary in today (it’s a Sunday morning), who might be offended into voicing disapproval. So, I say to myself, do it quickly and brass it out. I scuttle along the path, trying to keep beneath the hedge-line.
In the end, the only thing I disturb is goats. I sneak inside the stronghold and find myself in a small pasture. It’s a little incongruous, but somehow satisfying, that unknown to the park-goers, their castle is sheltering a family of the animals, who keep the grass down in the great hall and the old chapel.
I decide it’s time to recreate Lawrence’s photograph, so I take a look at his shot to estimate the angle and head back outside the curtain wall. And immediately wonder how achievable this is going to be: the circus is covering the whole area.
Photo courtesy of the Society of Antiquaries. See more about Lawrence’s photgraphs.
Right, a bit of brass is required again… I stride out, among the big top and the parked lorries, picking my way around the guy ropes and ganglions of electricity cables, to the point I think he chose. Another quick check of the image… getting closer, just over that pedestrian barrier, behind that caravan, next to that flatbed partially covered with canvas. There, that should do it… As I eye the castle, I hear a grunt, and turn to look straight into the eyes of a lion, eight feet away. To recreate the actual shot, I would have to join it in its cage. Boldness is one thing, but I think I’ll let discretion get the better of valour on this one…
