This is the fourth instalment of my letters from France, where I’m spending a week and a bit filming a documentary about the real history behind my novel Essex Dogs. The film will be released next month. Please consider pre-ordering a signed copy of the book! Pre-orders really help authors.
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I’m always happy if a film I make has a sequence on a boat. It’s a mark of ambition. Think James Cameron’s Titanic. Or Danny Boyle’s London 2012 opening ceremony. Or Jaws. Then add to that list my forthcoming two-part documentary about Edward III’s Crécy campaign in the Hundred Years War.
The Essex Dogs start my novel about that campaign in a boat. And as things spice up they find themselves in a river. It wouldn’t have felt right to tell their story without stepping into - or onto - the water.
So we spent this morning out on the Seine, alternately pottering and hurtling up and down its wide, slow waters. We saw the broken bridge at Vernon and the old castle at La Roche-Guyon. It was beautiful, and blissfully cool to spent a few hours away from the relentless sun-beat of the land.
But we couldn’t stay on the water all day. We had things to do in the city. Specifically, back in Rouen, where we stayed last night. (And where - sidenote - a group of Rouennaise roadmen stopped me in the street after dinner, insisting I was the local star of a viral TikTok video, involving a weird dance with lots of foot-tapping and high-fives. I think it was an attempted hustle, but can’t be quite sure.)
We pounded the streets of Rouen for most of this afternoon, by the end feeling almost as hot as the city’s favourite daughter, Joan of Arc. It’s a truly glorious place, with a cathedral whose facade is as fine as any in the world, and a warren of lopsided timber-framed buildings, their doors wonky and their upper storeys bulging and leaning as if they obey gravitational rules all of their own.
Yet as wonderful as Rouen is from street level, it’s even better if you drive about 4km out of town to a hillside bend in the road which I’m sure must be a make-out spot by night. We’ve been taking most of our ‘top-shots’ by drone. But this is as good as any of them. I’ll leave you with the panorama, and a little excerpt from Essex Dogs.
Here the English are outside Rouen, and an ill-advised cavalry charge is about to get underway.
After a time, Sir Godefroi addressed the company.
‘My good men, ahead lies a very great place,’ he said. ‘The River Seine you see. This flows all the way from Paris and beyond. The edge of the city in the distance, this is Rouen. We have a chance to be the first of this army to go there. Who wishes to come with me?’
A dutiful cheer went up. Sir Godefroi seemed pleased. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘Then we go. And we do not make this a secret.
‘Men, I wish you will form up into four groups. Some with me, the rest with Sir Thomas, Sir John and Sir Richard. We advance. We burn everything in our way, so that the people of Rouen know we come. We meet at the south of the bridge and we see how fear grips the hearts of the people. We tell them how many more English come behind us, so they know they must surrender or die.’
The Dogs looked at one another. Scotsman could not stay his tongue. ‘That’s a pretty big city for five dozen tired, gnat-bitten fuckers to attack on our own,’ he called out.
Sir Godefroi seemed bemused. He looked the Scotsman up and down, as though it was the first time he had seen him. ‘My friend, this is the stuff of war. This is prowess. This is noblesse. Have you ever read the great histories of war?’
Scotsman raised one eyebrow. ‘I’m still working my way through my bible, Sir Godefroi,’ he said.
Sir Godefroi snorted. He was about to begin dividing the men when another voice called out. This time it was Sir Thomas.
‘I will take these Essex men,’ he said. ‘We will head to the abbey.’ He pointed towards the monastery. ‘I doubt it will prove the most rich or spectacular prize of the day, but we are happy to leave the best of the fun to the rest of you. Aren’t we, Essex men?’ He stared at Loveday.
‘More than happy, Sir Thomas,’ Loveday answered. He looked around at the archers and Scotsman and made sure they fell in with him.
Sir Thomas nodded gracefully. ‘No time to waste, then,’ he said. He kicked his horse and set off. Loveday led the Dogs close behind him. As they left, Sir Godefroi tossed his hair. He began showing the remaining men which houses to destroy. He was saying something as Loveday galloped out of earshot.
‘No prisoners.’
See you tomorrow.
Lovely picture and I am loving the excerpts from the book. I have a sneaky feeling that Santa might be popping a signed copy in my stocking this year 🙂
Nice pic. Am hearing the drought is causing havoc over there. Is the Seine quite low, as well? This book is pulling me in, especially with your mention of Godefroi... imagining my GGG+, Sir Godfrey Foljambe hanging with these guys. BTW...when exactly was "f%$k" first recorded as being used? There are so many different opinions. I figured you would know if anyone Dan.