While it would be as foolish to attribute a Germanic origin to the modern French language and culture as it would to attribute the same to modern Spain or Italy, ie. the Goths, it is nevertheless a glaringly evident fact that it is after the Germanic tribes collectively known as the Franks that the modern Frenchman references both himself and his language.
Like all of the Germanic peoples, the roots of those tribes that would grow into the Franks extends back to the seashores of southern Scandinavia, the culture of the Nordic Bronze Age, and the Proto-Germanic language. As we first find them on the stage of (Graeco-Roman) history though — following the period of Germanic migration that marked the beginnings of the European Iron Age, and carried Germanic culture to the area of what is now Germany — the Frankish tribes were settled in the region of the Lower and Middle Rhine River.
In the 1st century, the Roman historian Tacitus mentioned the “Ancient Hymns” of the Germanic peoples, which celebrated their divine origins as a people from the god Mannus (Man, Human; cognate to the Indic Manu), and grouped the greater Germanic peoples into three branches; only two of which we need concern ourselves with. Each of these branches was named for one of the exceptional sons of Mannus. Thus, those tribes that lived along the seashore were called Ingvaeones after the man-god Ingui (Old Norse – Yngvi, aka. FreyR), while those that occupied the interior were called Irminones after the man-god Irmin (Old Norse – Jormun, aka. Odhinn).
The Franks themselves included two such tribes; the Ingvaeonic Salians at the Rhine delta and the Irminonic Ruparians who lived to the east of the Salii along the Rhine. They spoke Old Franconian, or some local variation of, itself a West Germanic tongue, and the ancestor of, not Modern French by any means, but the modern Franconian languages.
It was the aetheling (royal) house of the Salians, the Merovingians, that the Franks were at last united under. And the myth of the birth of Merovech, who gave his name to the line, shows off their Ingvaeonic origins quite tellingly. It relates of how a Salian Queen, the wife of King Chlodio, was sitting on the seashore one day, when a great bull emerged from the surf and engendered Merovech on her. This legend differs only in the aesthetic details to the founding of the Scylding house of Denmark by Scyld Sceafing; who was found as a baby in a shield-boat that had been set adrift in the sea, but in either case the new king is for all intents and purposes “born of the sea”; not unlike Ing himself in the Old English Rune Poem! In the Old English poem Beowulf, the Danes were called the “friends of Ingui”, while Ingui’s enduring link to kingship can be gleaned in the genealogy of the Anglo-Saxon kings of Bernicia and most poignantly in the old aetheling house of Sweden, who were called the Ynglings (Offspring of Ingui) in explicit reference to Yngvi-FreyR (see the Ynglinga saga of the Heimskringla).
I believe it was Gregory of Tours (or Einhard???) who mocked the Merovingian custom of travelling to the annual assembly in a wagon drawn by two cows. But what Gregory took to be a peasant mode of travel does in fact have it’s roots in the wagon processions of Ingui and “Nerthus” — if indeed they are different deities; which is doubtful — in which an image of the god was carried “throughout the land” in a cow drawn wagon for the sake bringing peace and prosperity to the folk. Far from travelling like peasants, the Merovingians traveled like gods!