Tuesday 11 December 2007

Vercingetorix and the Resistance

Image - coin of the Gaullish King Vercingetorix. Vercingetorix died in 46 BC). He was the King of the Arverni, originating from the Arvernian city of Gergovia and known as the man who led the Gauls in their ultimately unsuccessful war against Roman rule under Julius Caesar. Known primarily through Caesar's accounts, Vercingetorix's revolt is frequently used as a heroic example of Gallic virtue and resolve. Vercongetorix lost the war as Gaullish mercenaries paid by the Romans betrayed Vercingetorix and his army.

The story of Vercingetorix is a classic story of betrayal, where the uprising against Rome would have succeeded had the Romans not used Gaullish mercenaries to betray the Gaullish army of Vercingetorix.

Betrayal, the oldest kiss.

Was it ever not thus, last comes the fatal thrust,
Into the back from a traitors spear,
For the shame on the name of our folk forever,
Are the names of our saviours betrayed.

As Cunobelinus in chains cursed the Queen,
Cartimandua, that Brigante slave in purple,
Her milking breasts suckling lupine princes,
Counted her coins of glistening gold.

Between the Pillars of Hercules stood the Spartans,
Their glorious death before them,
Damascan blades at their bellies,
Ephialtes in the Persian camp conspiring.

Once Vercingetorix flashed amongst Ceasers ranks,
Death slashed like lightning from his sword,
King of liberty, virtue, valour and Gaul,
Betrayed by his brothers outside Alesia’s walls.

Arminius of the Cherusci, Wolf of the teuton forests,
Three legions killed upon Kalkriese Hill,
Who held back the Empire by uniting all tribes,
Fell poisoned by an oath sworn on a Chatti cup.

It is the kiss of love that kills quickest,
For it is the assassin of the soul,
The ice storm neath the sinister sigh of summer,
Treasonous whispers within Asgards Halls.

And though time itself will tick forever on,
Our scribes with pride will record,
That through the flood and through the Storm,
We the few stood and fought.

Remember this lesson my People,
And remember this lesson well,
Those who surrender their reason to hate,
Unbolt the black gates of Hell.

In times to come too far to see except via inner vision,
Bards in verse shall recite in ancient rituals,
To men more free than we now dare imagine,
Battles their fathers fought, and the honours they won.

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