Normandy | Page 9

incredible--they cut off the garrison
from their retreat to the keep. Thus this most famous of castles fell
within half a dozen years of its completion.
In the hundred years' war the Chateau-Gaillard was naturally one of the
centres of the fiercest fighting, and the pages of history are full of
references to the sieges and captures of the fortress, proving how even
with the most primitive weapons these ponderous and unscalable walls
were not as impregnable as they may have seemed to the builders. Like
the abbey of Jumieges, this proud structure became nothing more than a
quarry, for in the seventeenth century permission was given to two
religious houses, one at Le Petit-Andely and the other at Le
Grand-Andely to take whatever stone-work they required for their
monastic establishments. Records show how more damage would have
been done to the castle but for the frequent quarrels between these two
religious houses as to their rights over the various parts of the ruins.
When you climb up to the ruined citadel and look out of the windows
that are now battered and shapeless, you can easily feel how the heart
of the bold Richard must have swelled within him when he saw how

his castle dominated an enormous belt of country. But you cannot help
wondering whether he ever had misgivings over the unwelcome
proximity of the chalky heights that rise so closely above the site of the
ruin. We ourselves, are inclined to forget these questions of military
strength in the serene beauty of the silvery river flowing on its
serpentine course past groups of poplars, rich pastures dotted with
cattle, forest lands and villages set amidst blossoming orchards. Down
below are the warm chocolate-red roofs of the little town that has
shared with the chateau its good and evil fortunes. The church with its
slender spire occupies the central position, and it dates from precisely
the same years as those which witnessed the advent of the fortress
above. The little streets of the town are full of quaint timber-framed
houses, and it is not surprising that this is one of the spots by the
beautiful banks of the Seine that has attained a name for its
picturesqueness.
With scarcely any perceptible division Le Grand-Andely joins the
smaller village. It stands higher in the valley and is chiefly memorable
for its beautiful inn, the Hotel du Grand Cerf. It is opposite the richly
ornamented stone-work of the church of Notre Dame and dates chiefly
from the sixteenth century. The hall contains a great fireplace, richly
ornamented with a renaissance frieze and a fine iron stove-back. The
courtyard shows carved timbers and in front the elaborate moulding
beneath the eaves is supported by carved brackets. Unlike that old
hostelry at Dives which is mentioned in another chapter, this hotel is
not over restored, although in the days of a past proprietor the house
contained a great number of antiques and its fame attracted many
distinguished visitors, including Sir Walter Scott and Victor Hugo.
In writing of the hotel I am likely to forget the splendid painted glass in
the church, but details of the stories told in these beautiful works of the
sixteenth century are given in all good guides.
There is a pleasant valley behind Les Andelys running up towards the
great plateau that occupies such an enormous area of this portion of
Normandy. The scenery as you go along the first part of the valley,
through the little village of Harquency with its tiny Norman church,

and cottages with thatched roofs all velvety with moss, is very
charming. The country is entirely hedge-less, but as you look down
upon the rather thirsty-looking valley below the road, the scenery
savours much of Kent; the chalky fields, wooded uplands and big,
picturesque farms suggesting some of the agricultural districts of the
English county. When we join the broad and straight national road
running towards Gisors we have reached the tableland just mentioned.
There are perhaps, here and there, a group of stately elms, breaking the
broad sweep of arable land that extends with no more undulations for
many leagues than those of a sheet of old-fashioned glass. The horizon
is formed by simply the same broad fields, vanishing in a thin, blue line
over the rim of the earth.
[Illustration: THE FORTIFIED FARM NEAR GISORS]
At Les Thilliers, a small hamlet that, owing to situation at cross-roads
figures conspicuously upon the milestones of the neighbourhood, the
road to Gisors goes towards the east, and after crossing the valley of the
Epte, you run down an easy gradient, passing a fine fortified
farm-house with circular towers at each corner of its four sides and in a
few minutes have turned into the historic old town of Gisors. It is as
picturesque as