“When I use a word it means just what I choose it to mean—neither more nor less.” —H. Dumpty
It has been said that the first inhabitants of the British Isles painted their bodies purple and hid in trees pretending to be grapes to elude their enemies. Apparently the stratagem did not work, because they were crushed by successive waves of marauders from what we now call the European Union, formerly the Common Market.
Among the first were the Celts, bringing with them the leek, Brussels sprouts, and a musical, if incomprehensible, language. Then Caesar and the Romans barged in, but left in a snit around 410 A.D., taking indoor plumbing and central heating with them—two conveniences the British did not rediscover until 1967.
But little did the Celts realize, as they stood on the shore waving goodbye to the departing legions, that they were about to be blindsided by a horde of Germanic tribes, the Saxons, the Angles, and the Jutes, pouring in from Northern Europe. The Celts fought the invaders tooth and nail, but were forced to withdraw to what is now known as Wales, Cornwall, and the highlands of Scotland where they continue to bide their time.
Now called Anglo-Saxons—the Jutes somehow got lost in the shuffle—they settled down into cozy domesticity raising crops instead of Cain, and sending Yule logs to each other at Michaelmas time. And so it went until the Vikings shoved their oar in and raided the place in the mistaken belief that it would be a great spot to spend the winter. After their usual pillage, these fierce Nordic snowbirds finally roosted peacefully in northeastern England where even today you can get an excellent prune Danish and a side dish of pickled herring.
There followed an extended period of peace and tranquility during which the various ethnic groups intermingled and intermarried, and their languages and dialects merged into the rich broth that was to become English, although the sounds of this emerging language were still predominately Germanic. It was also during this period that the first great literary work in English appeared. Beowulf, the story of the swashbuckling Germanic hero who roamed the land whacking monsters, marked the beginning of a literary tradition that was to give us Geoffrey Chaucer, William Shakespeare, Virginia Woolf, Ian Fleming, and Barbara Cartland.
History is unclear as to whether it was the Normans’ superior fire power—actually bows and arrows—military strategy, or the stench from the foul-smelling French cigarettes their soldiers were smoking that defeated the Anglo-Saxons during the invasion of 1066. But whatever it was, they swept through the island like Grant taking Richmond, and conquered it before you could say ‘cheers!’
But who were these cigarette-smoking, croissant-eating, and wine-swilling gate-crashers who brought yet another foreign tongue as well as cognac and other fine after-dinner drinks to this fledging island nation?
First, we can dispense with the fiction that the name of this race of people derived from the custom of christening all males, Norman and all females Norma. No, these Normans were yet another Germanic tribe (originally called Franks) who raided what is now called France, and liked the foodstuffs and women so much they decided to stick around.
But you know how it is. You can eat only so much pâté de foie gras before you start getting itchy feet. So when their main man, William—later to be known as “the Conqueror” for obvious reasons—suggested a foray into the ‘Sceptr’d Isle’ for fun and plunder, he had no problem filling the ranks. Then, after taking it over lock, stock, and barrel, he and his knights decided to stay and help themselves to large tracts of land and scores of vassals who were willing to work for below minimum wage.
So now England had three major languages to contend with: French at the royal palace, the law courts, and in upscale restaurants; Latin in the cathedrals and monasteries, and at the thriving produce markets; and English in the homes and pubs of the common folk who, like the Celts, were just bidin’ their time.
But in the end English won out. And it won out because the Norman knights who stayed and married local women were given the ultimatum to learn their tongue or sleep on the couch. Indeed, the impetus toward English was so strong that by the 13th century three distinct variations had emerged:
- Low English: Spoken by underworld villains, Billingsgate fishmongers, and the coal miners of Wales and NorthumberLand.
- Middle English: The language of the emerging white collar class, London haberdashers, and the ancestors of BBC announcers.
- High English: Spoken by patrons of the numerous pubs that dot the land, football club fans, and members of Parliament. Not only that, but more and more authors were now writing in English, the most notable being Geoffrey Chaucer, whose tales could not be read in polite company.
Still, up to the fifteenth century, the spread of English occurred largely by word-of-mouth. Then in 1476 William Caxton published the first book printed in England on a newfangled device called a printing press, and touched off a communications revolution unrivaled in history until the present era of word processors, e-mail, and the internet.