France and England: The best of enemies
When France and England kick off at the Stade de France tonight, they will be playing out an ancient rivalry. John Walsh reminds us of the scores so far
Saturday, 13 October 2007
Battle of Crecy (1346)
It was the second major confrontation of the Hundred Years' War and a humiliating defeat for France – not that anyone is still gloating. Edward III of England invaded France and won some skirmishes in Normandy but narrowly escaped being trapped by the much bigger French army between the Seine and Somme rivers. While escaping the two armies (and their kings) finally met at Crécy. The 36,000 French soldiers under King Philip VI outnumbered the English army three to one. But 7,000 of the English army's 12,000 troops were longbowmen. Each archer could fire 10 arrows per minute. King Philip's Genovese crossbowmen were, by comparison, hopeless: their weapons were rain-soaked and they could only fire a bolt every two minutes. Half a million lethal arrows rained on the French as their knights, weighed down by armour and bogged down by the mud, had their uphill charges repulsed time and again. French casualties were dreadful. Deaths included almost a third of the French noble knights. The battle was also the death knell of chivalry because the long-range English arrows killed indiscriminately. English victory.
Battle of Castillon (1453)
The last battle in the Hundred Years War. In 1451, when the French captured Bordeaux, its citizens (who'd been ruled by the English for three centuries) asked Henry VI to recapture it. The Earl of Shrewsbury landed in France in October the following year with 3,000 men, and was welcomed to Bordeaux. The French king, Charles VII, convened three armies in the spring to march on the perfidious English. En route, they besieged the English-held town of Castillon, whose commander begged Shrewsbury to save them. The French dug in, ringed their camp with 10,000 men and ranged 300 cannon on a parapet (this was the first battle in European history in which cannon played a significant role). Shrewsbury approached Castillon, saw a dust-cloud in the distance and was told it was the French army in retreat. Confident of victory, he told his troops to charge. Shrewsbury's horse was killed by a cannonball and rolled on top of him. He was spotted by a French bowman, who slaughtered him with an axe. After this the English lost their claim to any land in Europe and began fighting amongst themselves. French victory.
Battle of Trafalgar (1805)
The point about Trafalgar is not just that we stuffed the French in the seas off south-west Spain, it's that we thwarted Napoleon in his determination to invade England. To make sure nothing stopped his armada, he needed control of the Channel. So he planned a three-sided pincer movement of French and Spanish fleets to clear the Channel of English warships. For weeks, sections of the three fleets played a complex cat-and-mouse game all over the Mediterranean and the Atlantic until a rattled Admiral Villeneuve sailed out of Cadiz and our hero Horatio Nelson set off in pursuit. We had 27 ships. They had 33. We had 17,000 men and 2,148 guns. They had nearly 30,000 men and 2,568 guns. On 23 October, the flag signal "England expects that every man will do his duty" flapped on the Victory's mizzen mast. Not to be outdone, Admiral Collingwood told his men: "Now gentlemen, let us do something today that the world may speak of hereafter." The French and Spanish fleets saw 22 of their ships captured; the English lost none. Nelson died from a musket bullet that lodged in his spine, but he instantly ascended to the top floor of the nation's heart, and stayed there ever after. English victory.
King William's War (1689-1697)
This is the dignified name for a series of bitchy skirmishes that broke out between British and French colonial forces in North America and went on for eight years. The eponymous William was William III of England who, in 1688, signed up to the League of Augsberg, a "Grand Alliance" of countries against France's invasion of the Palatinate of the Rhine. The hostilities in the colonies of Canada, Acadia and New England were the North American theatre of the War of the Grand Alliance. French soldiers and their native American allies launched a murderous night attack on defenceless men, women and children at the stockade in Schenectady in what is now New York State. The English retaliated by attacking the French-held Port Royal (now Annapolis in Maryland with a famous naval academy). They also pitched into Quebec, but were driven back. More skirmishes and tit-for-tat attacks went on for years, for which the natives were co-opted, then abandoned. Peace broke out with the signing of the Treaty of Ryswick in 1697, which returned the warring factions' colonial holdings to where they'd been before hostilities broke out. It had been, in other words, a massive waste of effort and human lives, fuelled wholly by a drip-feed of spite. A draw.
Battle of Waterloo (1815)
Though described by the Duke of Wellingon as "the closest-run thing you ever saw in your life," this most famous of all English victories decisively ended Napoleon's epic ambitions for conquering Europe, after 26 years of conflict. The allies were a coalition of armies – English, German, Belgian, Dutch and Prussian – ranged against Boney's Grande Armée. Wellington took up a position on the Brussels road south of the village of Waterloo, and the battle began on the morning of 18 June. Coldstream Guards, Hussars and Highland regiments fought together against French Cuirassiers and Marshal Ney's artillery. As the allied armies launched a final attack, three battalions of the French Old Guard fought to the end, to give Napoleon a chance to escape. The allies lost 22,000 men, the Grande Armée 25,000. One casualty was the Earl of Uxbridge who, as he rode with the Duke of Wellington, was struck by a cannonball. The duke said: "By God, sir, you've lost your leg." The earl said: "By God, so I have." Typical English phlegm. English victory.
Davis Cup (1933)
In 1933, the French tennis team was widely thought to be invincible: René Lacoste, Henri "Le Magicien" Cochet, Jean "the bouncing Basque" Borotra and their captain, Jacques "Toto" Brugnon, were collectively known as the Four Musketeers, and had won the Davis Cup for six years, from 1927. But then along came Frederick John Perry, born in Stockport, schooled in table-tennis and by the age of 20 a natural tennis star on all surfaces. His running forehand smash was already the stuff of legend. With the great Bunny Austin, he schooled the British Davis Cup team into a pile-driving attack that took Les Mousquetaires to a nail-biting five-set climax. We won, for the first time in 21 years. And won again and again until 1936. Tragically, the French were not to get their hands on the trophy again for 58 years. Delighted to have beaten Cochet, his old adversary and, he admitted, his inspiration as a player, Fred Perry used to say with pride: "Don't forget that I'm the bastard who stole the Cup away from the French." English victory.
Euro 2004
It should have been the best of times, but it became the worst of times. It was, by a mile, the most eagerly awaited game of the qualifying stage of Euro 2004, played on 13 June at the Stadium of Light, Lisbon. France, then ranked No 2 in the world, were defending their European Championship title against their ancient enemy, ranked 13. But as every commentator told you, no championship-winning nation had ever successfully defended their title. There was a weird air of split loyalties, if not downright treachery, about the warring teams – nine of the French squad were then playing for English Premiership clubs. In the midfield, Steven Gerrard squared up to Patrick Vieira. England fans looked at Thierry Henry and David Trezeguet and wondered: could they possibly be better than Michael Owen and Wayne Rooney? The bookmakers gave France the edge. Odds on a French victory were evens, with England at 15/8, and a tie at 13/5. In the event, we all recall what happened. Frank Lampard scored in the first half with a header from a David Beckham free kick. Rooney managed to force a penalty in the second half, only for Beckham to boot it into the hands of Fabien Barthez. As the final whistle neared, England had it in the bag. Then Zinedine Zidane sent a massive curling free-kick round the England wall to equalise in the 90th minute. Three minutes later, Henry was fouled by the England goalkeeper, David "Calamity" James. Zidane stepped up to the penalty spot, vomited, and then cooly slotted home the penalty. England fans sat stunned in the Lisbon stadium, as the hated Frenchmen smirked. Oh woe and misery. French victory.
De Gaulle's 'Grand Non' (1967)
The first French president since Bonaparte to be elected by popular vote, De Gaulle proved about as popular as Napoleon to the English when it came to negotiating over what would become the EEC. A fervent individualist, De Gaulle challenged the right of the American and Russian superpowers to dictate international affairs and wanted to see France become the leader of any confederation of nation states. In 1967, England applied to join the six-nation Common Market, expecting to encounter no trouble from her hapless wartime ally. Instead, on 16 May, she received "Le Grand Non" – a statement from President de Gaulle saying that because of England's ties to the US and the Commonwealth, and the instability of the pound, she would be unwelcome. "Monetary parity and solidarity are the essential conditions of the Common Market and assuredly could not be extended to our neighbours across the Channel, unless the pound appears, one day, in a new situation," he said. The response from Westminster could be summed up as: "Of all the bloody cheek." We joined in 1973, two years after the old bruiser died. French victory.
Rugby World Cup England v France 1991
England were hosts of the second Rugby World Cup, and by the time they met France in the quarter-finals, expectations were running high. The home squad had visited Paris the previous year and trounced France 26-7. Surely they could do it again? As the teams took the field at the Parc des Princes, there was no overt animosity. Not, that is, until, only two minutes into the first half, Nigel Heslop launched a late tackle on Serge Blanco and was rewarded with a tirade of punches that left him prostrate on the pitch, unconscious. The game thenceforth became a vivid, graceless spectacle of crunching tackles and unwonted physicality between Mick "The Munch" Skinner's army of forwards and their more sophisticated, but furious, opponents. More like a game of tag wrestling. With five minutes to go the score was 10-10. Jonathan Webb then kicked a penalty and Will Carling delivered a late try. Final score – England 19, France 10. England victory.
2012 Olympics (2005)
The bid to stage the 2012 Olympic Games in London was a very big deal in 2005. Five cities were on the shortlist: Paris, Moscow, New York, Madrid and London. All competing cities had to make submissions to the International Olympic Committee, meeting in Singapore. From the start, Paris was thought to be the hot favourite. Even the Queen was thought to be confident that Paris would win the bid. Sporting stars were co-opted to lend their support. David Beckham and several Olympic medallists came to do their bit; Zinedine Zidane and Laurent Blanc spoke up for Paris. Tony Blair broke his journey to a G8 summit to lobby for London in Singapore. But London's victory is widely attributed to Lord Coe, the former Olympic gold medallist – a man already well-known to the IOC when he became leader of the bid committee – whose impassioned advocacy won the day. When Jacques Rogg, the IOC president, announced the winner at 12.49pm on 6 July, there was a nationwide outbreak of joy. Only because we'd won something, of course, not because we'd eclipsed Les Grenouilles. By no means. The very thought! English victory.
