Annoying? Nous?
- Lord Copper
- Sep 24
- 4 min read
May 1745: the battle of Fontenoy - the War of the Austrian Succession. The Pragmatic Army (British, Hanoverian, Dutch and Austrian, commanded by the Duke of Cumberland) lined up to face the French, under Marshall Saxe, with Louis XV lurking somewhere in the background. The Gardes Françaises versus British Foot Guards, all armed with muzzle-loading muskets. Who would open the firing? Forward stepped a French commander (presumably not Saxe himself, who would have been observing from higher ground somewhere) and, with a gentlemanly bow, he invited the British to fire first. That’s how the story is traditionally told (although Voltaire told it differently). But what if it wasn’t French chivalry, but a sneaky plan to gain an advantage? The line who fired the first volley would then have to spend the next few minutes faffing around reloading, which would give their opponents - assuming the first volley hadn’t killed or maimed them all - the opportunity to rush forward and take their shots from much closer…..I’ve tried shooting with black powder guns, and proximity to the target is hugely desirable, because accurate they are not.
That anecdote of Fontenoy is one of many referenced in a book I’ve just finished, called 1000 Years of Annoying the French, by Stephen Clarke. It’s a delightful romp through the shared history of France and England (subsequently Britain) from the Norman conquest to the present, with a slant towards alternative interpretations. For example: that invasion and conquest in 1066 wasn’t really French - William was a Nor(se)man, of Viking background; indeed (something I didn’t know) on the Bayeux Tapestry, he is identified as Wilelm, the nordic version, not Guillaume, which is how we are accustomed to naming him. But despite the title (and it’s pretty clear that Clarke, who lives in Paris, is a Francophile) the book is really an examination of the way tin which it is virtually impossible to separate the history of England and France.
For the first few centuries after the conquest it was really a succession of family squabbles, as both kingdoms - with shared regal ancestry - sought to impose their rule on their neighbours and kinsmen. Then, once the two countries - and their rulers - had finally resolved that France was France, and England (Britain) was the island next door, came the years of competitive empire-building and colonisation, in Canada, America, the Caribbean, India and so on. Both countries cut off the head of a king, and then launched into the most destructive of the wars between them, when the Corsican corporal decided he should rule the world - but when that was all over, he hoped he may be able to retire to the English countryside, a desire firmly knocked on the head with a one-way ticket to St Helena. That “Corsican corporal” phrase, by the way, is an inaccurate dig at him, originated by the English. He was not a corporal, he was from Corsican (admittedly not mainland) aristocracy, and was an officer graduate of the École Militaire. Likewise the common belief - also engendered by the English - that he was particularly short; he wasn’t, he was of about average height for the time. For the English of that time, though, any bit of adverse propaganda would do. One last titbit about Corsica, which just emphasises the entanglement of the history: in 1793, when the island was briefly occupied by the British, the inhabitants asked to join the British empire, and be ruled by George III - or is that propaganda, as well???
But I’m not going to run through it all here - read the book. It is fascinating, though, to see how the history of two separate nations is somehow so closely linked as to be pretty much unable to be disentangled; I think it’s pretty unique. And as if to demonstrate my point, it seems that the biggest selling novel of all time is the one that links London and Paris, like an umbilical cord - A Tale of Two Cities; ah well, it was the best of times, it was the worst of times….
1000 Years of Annoying the French, by Stephen Clarke, is published by Black Swan, part of Penguin Random House.
And here, just for amusement, are a few quotes:
Sir Philip Sidney; “That sweet enemy, France.”
Georges Clemenceau: “English is just badly pronounced French.”
Napoléon Bonaparte: “History is a series of lies on which we agree.”
“Good politics is making people believe they are free.”
Horatio Nelson: “Firstly you must implicitly obey orders…Secondly, you must
consider every man your enemy who speaks ill of you king; and
thirdly, you must hate a Frenchman as you hate the devil!”
Charles de Gaulle: “I have tried to lift France out of the mud. But she will return to
her errors and vomitings. I cannot prevent the French from being
French.”
Laurence Sterne: “The French believe that talking of love is making it.”