The Bold Claim

The English language, as you know it, doesn’t actually exist. It’s just badly pronounced French.

So quipped 20th-century French statesman and master of the zinger, Georges Clemenceau. Though not a linguistics professor (as some mischievous mouths have claimed), Clemenceau’s quip was echoed more academically by Bernard Cerquiglini, a real-deal French linguist. In fact, Cerquiglini was so confident about this notion, he wanted to send a copy of his book “The English Language Doesn’t Exist: It’s Badly Pronounced French” to none other than King Charles III. Why, you ask? Fasten your seatbelt. The tale of Frenglish is one of conquest, castles, and… carpenters.

What Was Old English?

Let’s start with a little throwback: Old English. It was a Germanic language, spoken by Anglo-Saxons who crossed over from what's now Germany and the Netherlands. It had grammatical gender, wild word orders, and enough variable endings to make Latin blush. Honestly, trying to read Old English today feels like decoding ancient Viking Sudoku.

Then Came the Normans

But then—drumroll—history happened. And the biggest game-changer? The French kings of England.

Enter: William the Conqueror, a Norman (read: Viking-turned-Frenchman), who marched into England in 1066 and basically turned the language upside-down. As Professor Cerquiglini slyly puts it: “Without the Normans, English would today be a second Dutch.” Is that shade toward Dutch? Perhaps. But he has a point.

William booted out the Anglo-Saxon nobles, bishops, and influencers (no Instagram back then), replacing them with his French-speaking crew. For centuries after, power, politics, and prestige spoke French—not English.

Richard the Lionheart? Très Français!

Yes, that Richard. English nationalists might want to cover their ears, but Richard the Lionheart, England’s poster-boy king, probably couldn’t string a full sentence in English. His sword may have been English, but his tongue was très français.

A Makeover for Everyday Life

French didn’t just hover in royal courts. It reshaped daily life.

A “flesh-monger” became a butcher.
A treewright was rebranded as a carpenter.
The humble chapman turned into a merchant.

In other words, jobs got fancier names, and suddenly everyone sounded like they’d studied abroad.

Even family titles reveal this class divide:

Close kin? Anglo-Saxon: mother, father, son, daughter.
Extended fam? French imports: uncle, aunt, cousin, niece, nephew.
It’s like English took one look at itself and said, “Let’s go classy, darling.”

Two French Dialects, Double the Vocabulary

Here’s where it gets even twistier.

Norman French—the dialect William brought—was just one flavour of Old French. A few generations later, the Plantagenets took over, bringing Central French with them. The result? English sometimes adopted two versions of the same French word.

For example:

- warden and guardian
- warranty and guarantee
- wage and gauge
- catch and chase

These words mean nearly the same, but each picked up its own flavour over time. That’s the beauty of English: it didn’t just replace its vocabulary; it expanded it.

You can “ask” or you can “demand”.
You can “wish” or “desire”.
You can “begin” or “commence”.

French Fever Never Faded

So English takes on vast amounts of French words during this Middle English period and never really put an end to the habit of borrowing—even after French stopped being the language of the ruling class.

That transition began when England lost Normandy in 1204 and trickled to a close with the Hundred Years War. Speaking French in England went from being très chic to a bit of a faux pas. But even after that, the British continued looting French words like they looted spices—eagerly, proudly, and with no intention of returning them.

In fact, during the 18th century, the British elite developed a passion for French everything. Along came elegant imports like ballet, connoisseur, coquette, coterie, intrigue, and the pièce de résistance—soubrette.

What’s a soubrette, you ask? Only the most delightfully French thing ever: a flirty, clever maidservant character in a play or opera. Yes, the Brits even borrowed their sass.

45% French? Mais Oui!

And so, here we are—with roughly 45% of modern English words born from French. Nearly half the language is wearing a beret and sipping wine. Add Latin, and you realize the Germanic root of English is just... well, the root. The rest? It’s very much a garden of French blooms.

To Be Continued...

But wait—this is just the beginning. We’ve only scratched the linguistic surface, and the juiciest bits are yet to come. So don’t wander off, dear reader…