The Roman Conquest of Britain in 43 A.D. is the Papist/London Conquest of 1257/8

[Artemisian]

The Roman conquest of England is consistently dated as 43 A.D. It is always written as 43 A.D., never “in the year 43”, or any other form.

In A chronicle of London, from 1089 to 1483 (written in the fifteenth century), the chronology is linked to a monarch’s reign and prefixed with “Anno”, making reference to England’s timeline with the phrase “that is to seye the yere of our lord…”.

The Chronicle mentions deaths and births, successes and losses of British and European monarchs and nobility, and religious leaders, so it is relatively easy to cross-refer to other sources to establish the years. During this process, I realised that a London Chronicle year does not correspond to a calendar year, but is more akin to the financial year. Interestingly, the Ides of March, the fifteenth of March, was a deadline for settling debts; and the financial year closes at the end of March.

It starts with Anno primo (written verbatim, in Italian), with the crowning of Richard I, also known as Richard Lionheart. This corresponds to 1189 in the usual narrative; the Chronicle's title of 1089 appears to be a convenient typo. He reigned for just ten years, and was followed by King John of Magna Carta fame, also known as John Lackland. So 1999 was a second Anno primo. He lasted for seventeen years, to be followed by Henry III, with a third Anno primo in 1216.

Henry III was the first monarch to reign for more that 43 years, reigning for fifty-seven years. Let’s have a look at the Chronicle entry for this Anno 43, that is to say the year of our Lord 1257/8:

This yere scutage was gadered in Engelond of every knyghtes fee xl s.​

This year scutage was gathered in England of every knight 40 s.. scutage being a tax levied on a vassal or knight in lieu of miltary service. 40 shillings to save yourself from being forced to fight for your Masters!

The entry for 43 A.D. adds:

also in this yere was a gret derthe of corn, for a quarter of whete was worth xxiiij s.​

also in this year was a great dearth of corn, for a quarter of wheat was worth 25 s. It looks like it was a good year for the Corporation of London: impoverished natives, taxed to keep their lives, also suffering from rampant inflation. A few entries in the Chronicle describe notable adverse weather events, and even earthquakes, but this dearth of corn does not have an attributed cause, and the scarcity could easily have been engineered.

It looks like England’s men just got conquered, don’t you think?

The entry for this Anno 43 also includes the following cautionary tale:

And in this yere, that is to seye the yere of our lord a mcclviij, there fel a Jewe into a pryve at Teukesbury upon a Satirday,
the whiche [Jewe.] wolde nought suffre hym selfe to be drawe out of the preve that day for reverence of his Sabot day: and
Sr. Richard of Clare, thanne erle of Gloucestre, herynge therof, wolde nought suffre hym to be drawe out on the morwe after,
that is to say the Soneday, for reverence of his holy day; and so the Jewe deyde in the preve.​

Pryve, preve, or privy has various meanings including a) a toilet in an outhouse, or b) sharing in the knowledge of something secret (hence private). So this story could be read as a warning that Jews are now “in the sh*t”, and/or that they are in peril due to some secret knowledge. Is this an acknowledgement of the Holy Roman Empire victory over the Masonic Kabbalists in England?

The very next year, Henry III and his queen sailed to France, and had such a great time that they only came home when he was threatened to be ousted. Henry stayed in London on his return, in the Bishop’s Palace beside St Paul’s Cathedral. Cosy, huh?

Ok, so far, so tenuous. This is interpretation. But it should be possible to check whether these calendars are running concurrently. The Roman Conquest was swift; all done and dusted by 84 A.D. (see map insert for campaign code names). There must be other correlations, as the Roman Conquest is surprisingly well documented.

One notable uprising by several Brythonic (native Britannic) tribes was in 60/61 A.D., when London was sacked. The revolt was purportedly led by Boudicca, the femaie leader of the Iceni tribe, although Wikipedia admits that it translates simply as “having victory”. The Iceni lived in the East, while the Welsh in the West have their own name for her: Buddug; indicating a unifying force behind “her”.

There follows a suspension of Roman campaigns from 60 A.D. to 69 A.D, according to the map insert - based on Frere’s Britannia, Jones & Mattingly’s Atlas of Roman Britain, and Tacitus’ The Agricola.

King Henry III reigned for 57 years, and was succeeded by Edward I, so the London Chronology reverts to 1 A.D. again upon his death. However, if it did not revert, and instead continued, then the great Brythonic revolt of 60/61 A.D. would correspond the year of our lord 1275, and also 3-4 A.D of King Edward I.

The Chronicle entry for 4 A.D. records only that someone called Mich’ Tony was jugged, dampned, drawn and hung. The Chronicle entry for 5 A.D. is blank. It is clear that something quite catastrophic just happened to London! Another coincidence? And who was Mich’ Tony? The name conjures up an image of a mafia don.


In 6 A.D., the king’s bench and the echeqer were moved from London to Shrovesbury on 29 September 1277, and then returned to London around 15 January 1278. The next year, 7 A.D., saw the very Roman response to the uprising, with the installation of a bunch of raving blood-thirsty lunatics in Barnard Castle, county Durham in north England, to terrorise the local population and mete out hideous punishments for thought-crime. The Order of the Frere Prechours is mentioned in another medieval text, as heading up the Inquisitions in Lombardy, Italy. Artist’s impression of Barnard Castle, late 13th century:

On the opposite bank of the river is Startforth. Wow, that is uncannily similar to “star fort”, and there’s some interestingly angled fields around:

The town of Boston, England was also burnt down that year; strategically placed halfway between London and Barnard Castle, with sheltered access from the sea. St Botolph’s church, Boston, below:

In 8 A.D., the king suddenly issued new money, and there was unseasonal heavy snow on October 9 which led to huge flooding… CBDC and climate change, anyone? I think we are experiencing old tricks. In 9 A.D. the only comment is of Pope Martyn IV’s accession. Now, why would London, far away from Rome, in the European backwaters, give two hoots about that event?

In 10 A.D., war flared up again between the king and Thlewelyn , the native prince of Wales, and the prince’s brother was successful in gaining territory. In 11 A.D, (1282) Prince Thlewelyn was slain, and his head first sent to the king, who then sent it on to London. In 12 A.D, (1283) the Prince’s brother Dafydd was imprisoned in Rotherham before being sent to Shrovesbury to be hung, then beheaded, then eviscerated and burnt, with his head, again, being sent to London.

According to the conventional timeline of the Roman conquest, the hiatus in campaigns ends in 12 A.D, or 84 A.D, using a consecutive approach from the 43 A.D.starting point. This equates to the year of our lord 1283/84, when the last native nobleman, Prince Dafydd, was murdered.

And what happened in 13 A.D (1284) that allowed the Roman campaigns to start again? The Chronicle relates that the franchise of London was seized into the king’s hand. Oh, no, not another coincidence!

Who knows how long ago this was… If the 1700’s & 1800’s are largely fictional, then the Roman conquest of Britannia may have been just three or four hundred years ago.

 

[usselo]

Interesting analysis - thanks for that.

It helps me visualise why the 'hose' worn by the 16th century Holy Roman conquistadors can so resemble a Roman legionary's 'kilt':

Source: A Short Account of the Destruction of the Indies​

 

[Artemisian]

It certainly doesn't make parasitic ruling class claims to be able to trace their lineage back to Roman Emperors sound quite so impressive!

For me, it has explained the conundrum of why Silchester, southern England (51.3538° N, 1.1005° W) is presented to the public as the abandoned remains of an important Roman town, but appears as a large, thriving settlement on the John Speed map of Hantshire (now Hampshire), supposedly published in 1611.

According to English Heritage, the Romans built Silchester on the site of the native tribes’s main centre, curiously re-naming it Calleva Atrebatum after the conquered Atrebatii tribe. It was abandoned in the 6th/7th century, never to be re-settled.

Artist's impression of 7th century:

Excerpt from the John Speed map of Hampshire:

The same large font is used as for the still existent nearby towns of Basingstoke, Odiam and Kingsclere, and the symbols also denote larger settlements. Neither the font nor the symbol indicates its unique history of foreign domination. Its abandonment a thousand years earlier appears to be a myth. The natives who lived there perhaps built, and certainly maintained the impressive walls, the surviving church, and the discovered archaeology, including a bath house with hypocaust, until the time of the map.

It can be deduced that something calamitous happened to the population and infrastructure of Silchester since the John Speed map was described !

Whether the John Speed maps were published for the first time in 1611 is, for me, debatable. I have found differences between the same maps (more below). Where the year is included on the maps, there is the possibility that the first “1” has either been added, or the original “ i ” amended, or that the entire inserts are later additions to the metal printing plates.

It is worth noting the military value of maps. Maps are highly-prized intel for an alien invader. From this perspective, the publication of the John Speed atlas could be viewed as an act of high treason. And who were the dark forces circling England and Wales, who so desired knowledge of the interior? Well, we know that they had to buy the maps from officially sanctioned sellers in Popes Head Alley, in the City of London:

"Tribal" Britain in the 13th century

According to English Heritage: Silchester has its origins as a centre of the Iron Age Atrebates tribe from the late 1st century BC, and it was only after the Roman conquest of A.D. 43 that it became the large and important town of Calleva Atrebatum. Does it make sense that the conquering Romans named their new town after the tribe they had defeated? Doesn't the opposite more commonly happen e.g. New Amsterdam / New York ?

And why then are the Atrebatii featured on a copy of the John Speed Barkshire (now Berkshire) map of 1611 (below)?

Below is a copy of the same map without the Atrebatii, and also without the added village of Longsett. These maps were a work in progress. Were the Atrebatii being hunted?

Similarly, here are the SIlures and/or Dimitae of Carmarthenshire, west Wales:

And the Belgae are just west of Stonehenge, in Wiltshire, on an edition dated to 1676, compared to an edition without them:

There appears to be confusion amongst "historians" about the location of the Belgae. On the Wikipedia map, they are on the coast.

Here they are inland, and more to the west. They appear to have been usurped by the Regni, Latin for "of the kingdom".

And in this map of Roman roads below, with the Fosse Way in red, the Belgae have moved further west to Wiltshire, as described by the John Speed map. The Regni have named the cathedral city of Chichester on the south coast after themselves, Regul, having flirted with the name Noviomagus (Lat. new magician) in the map above. Nearby, today we still have the coastal town of Bognor Regis.

The topography of this area occupied by the Regni, now known as West Sussex, is striking, forming part of the chalk hill range called the South Downs. The small town of Arundel is positioned in a breach in this natural defensive hill range.

Despite being a small settlement - its population has remained steady at just over 3,000 for the last twenty years - Arundel holds great strategic advantage. with access to the coast and the interior via the river Arun, and is dominated by a huge castle and Catholic cathedral. The disproportion between the scale of these two massive buildings and the small size of the town is hard to convey. It really takes your breath away when you approach for the first time.

Looking at Arundel’s history, we find the usual clusterfluke of coincidences.

The Castle is the seat of the Duke of Norfolk, a county on the east coast, some 175 miles away (former land of the Iceni people, whose leader supposedly led the great revolt of 60/61 A.D.). As this puff piece in high society rag Tatler explains, the 18th Duke of Norfolk is the most senior peer in Britain, and also the most senior lay member of the Roman Catholic Church. As a recusant, he organised the recent coronation of King Charles III - no conflict of interest there!

The current title holder, Edward William Fitzalan-Howard, can trace his family tree back to King Edward I, crowned King in 1272, or 57 A.D. Maybe he is also related to the Mayor of London, Rog’ Fitz Aleyn, in 1213/4, or 1 B.C. Or Mayor Petrus Fitz Aleyn in 1245/6, or 31 A.D.

These mayors must have known Michael Tony (hanged in 1275 / 61 A.D. when London was sacked by Boudicca’s army), as Tony was Mayor of London in 1238/9, again in 1242/3, and finally in 1246/7 (the year after Petrus). Mick’ Tony was clearly quite a character, as he bounced back after he was stripped of the mayoralty following his second term in 1242/3, being convicted of perjury, to serve a third term. Based on the name, maybe there is connection between Mich’ Tony and Mark Anthony?

Arundel’s magnificent cathedral was supposedly knocked up in just over three years (1869-1873), in the French Gothic architectural style. The cathedral was humbly re-dedicated to one of the Duke’s ancestors in 1973, after Philip Howard (1557-1595) was humbly canonised in 1970 - Howard was one of the Forty Martyrs, forty humble Catholics who were executed for treason between 1535 and 1679, being found guilty of humbly sharing in Jesuit plots.

The name Arundel reflects the town’s unique topographical situation: a valley on the river Arun (a dell is a dale in northern England, and dal in Swedish). Yet by quite an extraordinary coincidence, the Duke of Norfolk is also related to another Catholic collaborator, who has the same surname as the location of his castle, Sir Thomas Arundell. Holy moly! What a small world.

These Arundells settled in Cornwall in the middle of the thirteenth century, and the name does not sound Cornish. In 1333 (118 A.D.), Edward III granted a market in St Columb Major to Sir John Arundell, as a reward for providing troops to fight against the Scottish at the other end of the country, in Berwick-upon-Tweed. Sir Thomas, related to the Duke of Norfolk, was beheaded in 1552, having been charged with humbly conspiring to overthrow the government.

These coincidences lend support to the Roman/Papist/London invasion, posing behind the king, having begun in earnest at this strategic location along England’s southern coast, following the capture of the Thames Estuary and London, as depicted in the Campaigns map.

Returning to Silchester, why was this ordinary, thriving town abandoned, and never re-populated? Is there a clue in the name Devil’s Highway, for the stretch of “Roman road” running from Silchester to London? (marked in red on the map below

Wikipedia suggests that “its name probably derives from later ignorance of its origin and history” and notes that there is a newer, near-parallel road on lower ground for some of it. Some stretches of “Roman” road are still in use, but not the Devil’s Highway:

Perhaps the Roman name of Calleva Atrebatum describes a holding bay for captured local member of the Atrebatii people; after all, the “amphitheatre” does not have stone seating, and is more of an easily guarded, round space:

The Roman town names of:
Venta Belgarum (Winchester, Hampshire, former capital of the kingdom of Wessex and home of King Alfred),
Venta Icenorum (Caistor St Edmund, Norfolk, the reputed stamping ground of Iceni queen Boudicca), and
Venta Silurum (another abandoned town, Caerwent, Monmouthshire, Wales),
can all be easily interpreted as market descriptions: that is, places where slaves of various “tribes” could be purchased. Indeed, Wikipedia translates Venta Icenorum as “marketplace of the Iceni”. Venta derives from Latin, and definitely not from the local Brythonic languages, and means “sale” in Spanish today.

This revised chronology is holding up well enough so far, and also explains why English mythology and folklore is so sparse, given the inspiring beauty of much of the landscape, compared to our Welsh, Irish and Scottish neighbours: that much of it died when the storytellers were bought and sold. And offers an explanation for Patagonian Welsh, as the result of some vile seignior’s spending spree at Venta Silurum, with the Welsh slaves being shipped off to plantations new.

As an aside, the Chronicle of London dates the start of the Tartarian Empire to 1267, or 52 A.D, saying:

This yere, that is to seye the yere of oure lord a mlcclxvij, began the empire of Tartaryn,
the whiche emperour is called the grete Cane; and he is now holden grettest
and most myghty lord of alle the world.​

 

[Ernie]

I have a question. It sounds ridiculous until you think about it. When the Romans first arrived here in Britain, how did they know where to go? Imagine you've landed on a massive piece of land to conquer it, but where do you from there? Britain must have been very different then as it must have been covered in trees.