 'respect for the law' In England, don’t kill anybody. You’ll be hung. In front of a French jury, if you have a bit of imagination, a good-looking face and a smart lawyer, you can just about save yourself. But twelve English jurors will have no sympathy for your hurt and heartbreak. They’ll have you strung up by the neck until you’re dead.
So be careful, and avoid their courts of law. The cross-questioning of their lawyers is so unbearably skilful that to escape their hail of questions you’ll gladly swear you stole Nelson’s Column.
Remember that respect for the law is greater here than elsewhere. In English, ‘Keep Off the Grass’ does not mean ‘Go On Then, No-one Really Cares.’
 'new pleasures' Before you leave, everyone will tell you how poor the food is in England. This isn’t entirely true. If you know how to time your hunger, you’ll be able to eat perfectly well. In England there are two excellent meals: breakfast and tea. Reserve your appetite for these meals only.
Learn to appreciate new pleasures: porridge, kippers, marmelade. At lunch-time, fill yourself up with a big piece of rare beef or some admirably pink ham. Refuse desert, in as manly a way as possible. Say firmly:
‘I don’t like sweet.’
In England, every other shop is a sweet shop, but even so the English have no idea what to do with sugar. Leave the desserts to the women and children.
Adopt a taste for the national drinks. They’ll tell you that whisky is a ‘clean drink’. And so it is: it clarifies the spirit, sharpens the tongue and reheats the body. The beers are good, but be careful to drink them like you drink our northern beers. During the war, melancholy Tommies used to tell me:
‘We can’t get drunk on French beer!’
Never forget that a Frenchman can get drunk only too easily on English beer.
Train yourself to drink a glass of sherry before dinner, port after dinner, and whisky at eleven o’clock at night. You will not impress if you drink only water.
Disraeli, in discussions with Bismarck, forced himself to smoke even though it made him feel sick.
‘In that kind of situation,’ he said, ‘the man who doesn’t smoke looks like he’s judging the other.’
You’ll get a taste for it, and anyway, their very dry port is better than ours.
 'over-tailored' Only two rules. Dress like they do. Dress simply.
The English are conformists. If you play golf in jodhpurs, if you turn up for a regimental dinner in shorts, you will shock and sadden them. But you’ll shock them even more if you have the bad taste to be overdressed.
None of your clothes should be over-tailored, nor your shoes over-new. Miss Jane Harrison, in her Reminiscences of a Student’s Life, described the pleasure that she felt watching the Duke of Devonshire, at Cambridge, receive an honorary doctorate with his socks showing through the holes in his shoes.
‘Right down to the holes in his shoes,’ she says, ‘I recognized that he was truly a Duke.’
Don’t think that in London you must dress as the English do when abroad. In London, an Englishman ceases to be abroad. Imitate him. Dress as if in Paris.
 'everyone was dressed quite normally' I’ll give you an example. There was once a young Englishman who was invited to a fancy-dress ball at his neighbour’s in the country. He decided to disguise himself as an Elizabethan jester. He ordered a satin jacket, half-red and half-green, and short culottes with one green leg and one red. He wore a two-toned pointed hat.
On the evening of the ball, he had himself driven to his friends’ house, but before he went in he sent his driver away. He was a little surprised that the house was neither open nor lit up. He rang the bell.
A butler opened the door, looked at him, and said nothing. He showed the visitor, who he knew well, into the library where the host family were reading, playing chess, relaxing. They were dressed quite normally. There was no visible sign of a party.
Everyone stood up to greet their visitor. Nobody seemed to notice his strange garb and a conversation started up, so naturally and pleasantly that the incomer himself soon forgot that he was dressed in a green and red body-stocking.
Towards midnight, the mistress of the house said:
- I know that you sent your car away; perhaps you’d like to stay the night? My son, who is your size, will lend you some pyjamas.
No sooner said than done. The next morning the visitor, still dressed in red satin, took his leave. His host accompanied him to the car. There he leant towards him and said softly,
- Good bye…We’re delighted to have seen you, but don’t forget to come back next week, when we’re having a fancy-dress ball.
You might think it would have been easier to say something, explain the mistake, laugh it off. Personally, I find it charming that a group of human beings are able, in quite surprising circumstances, to remain straight-faced and talk for several hours with a fool. Without once reminding him of his folly.
 'a little place in the country' At least until you’ve found your feet, speak little. In France it is impolite to let a conversation drop; in England it’s imprudent to pick it up again. No-one here will reproach you for your silence, and when after three years you still haven’t opened your mouth they’ll think: ‘What a calm and pleasant Frenchman this one is.’
Be modest. An Englishman will say to you: ‘I’ve a little place in the country’. When he takes you there, you’ll discover that the little place is a stately home with 300 rooms.
If you are a world champion tennis-player, say: ‘Yes, I don’t play too badly.’ If you’ve sailed a six-metre skiff across the Atlantic, you might mention you do a little canoeing. If you’ve written books, say nothing. In time, they will discover for themselves your regrettable but inoffensive weakness. They’ll laugh and say ‘I know your secret,’ and that will bind you together.
If you are treated unjustly (because the English are sometimes unjust) go straight up to them and explain your grievance. There’s a good chance they will recognise they are in the wrong. They’ll play up and play the game.
Golden rule: Never ask questions. During the war I lived six months in the same tent as an Englishman. We shared the same bath but he never asked me if I was married, what I did in peace-time or about the books I was reading under his nose. If you volunteer any private information, you will be heard out with a polite indifference.
Keep your thoughts about other people to yourself. Gossip exists here like anywhere else, but it is more rare and more serious. There is no middle ground between silence and scandal. Prefer the sound of silence.
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About Me
About Richard Beard
I'm a novelist and non-fiction writer, and recently took up the post as Director of the National Academy of Writing. As time goes by I'm gradually transferring the material from the old site (stories, articles, squibs) into the categories tabbed aboved. There's information on each of my books, with summaries and reviews, and now that I'm permanently back in the country I'm available for events and readings. Email me using Contact, below right. I'll get back to you.
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