Original Artwork by Renelle Sommerville (Ishtar)
In ancient times, East Anglia was ruled by Celtic kings.
Prasutagus, a warrior king, had female underlings.
Dense forests kept them separate, as well as did the sea,
This tribe who farmed their native lands was called the Iceni.
But trouble brewed for these fine folk from far off to the east,
The Roman emp’ror Claudius despoiled the lands he’d siezed.
His legions ate the English crops, devoured the English meat.
The land stayed safe from outside hordes, the safety bittersweet.
In forty four C. E., the king arranged to take a bride.
As often happened in that day, his wife was from outside.
The lady, Boudicca it seems, quite fit her queenly role,
Tall and strong with long red hair, untainted heart and soul.
Two daughters gave she to the king before his quick demise.
His kingdom shared with girls and Rome, a move he thought quite wise.
But Roman law said diff’rently, no woman could hold land,
Thus Nero took it for himself, then dealt his reprimand.
The kinsmen jailed, the daughters raped, while Boudicca was flogged,
Each outrage burned into her mind and fully catalogued.
The Druids fought defiantly, rebelling one more time,
The Roman might descended there, to turn the land to chyme.
Though beaten and disgraced by Rome, she still remained the queen,
And other tribes supported her, which Rome had not foreseen.
Taxation and oppression, turned to prisoners and slaves,
The Roman swords and lances had put many in their graves.
A temple built to Claudius, the one who had destroyed
The Celtic culture and the land, his legions now deployed.
Angered by a vile attack on Druid’s holy site,
Boudicca then vowed rebell’on, gathering all to fight.
The Trinovantes tribe joined in, along with many more,
At least one hundred thousand strong, they vowed to start the war
To drive the Romans from their land, to take back what was theirs.
Attacks begun, they hoped they’d find the Romans unawares.
‘twas Camulodunum the first, to feel the Celtic ire,
They massacred the people there, and set the town afire.
The Romans, overconfident, had been too negligent,
Their troops spread out and far away, from Coventry to Kent.
Colchester was the next to fall, o’errun by day and night.
Londinium n’er had a chance in this uneven fight.
Barbaric were the Celtic hordes, with Roman head keepsakes,
They killed the Roman women and then skewered them on stakes.
The thousands count at seventy, the bodies filled the streets,
While things looked very bleak for Rome, there’d be no more retreat.
Sutonius, the governor, gathered all his men,
The finest fighters he could find, the thousands numbered ten.
He marched them to a spot which had a forest at their back.
Thus, from one direction only, came the Celt attack.
The Roman swords were short and sharp, prevailing in the fight,
‘gainst Celtic lances far too long, and thus the Celtic plight.
Rank upon rank of Celtic charge fell to the Roman swords,
And soon it became clear to all, they’d slay the Celtic hordes.
Then quickly they surrounded fiery Boudicca’s last force,
And she, when faced with certain death, had only one recourse.
Celtic fam’lies that had come to see the victory,
Now had no way to escape – slaughtered systematically.
Amidst the carnage and the blood, three women did escape,
Avoiding Roman capture and perhaps another rape.
But Rome would not forget the queen, thus she had but one choice.
Her defeat at Roman hands had stilled her queenly voice.
The deadly vile she held in hand would end her earthly life,
Remembered as the warrior queen, and not Prasutagus’ wife.
Original Artwork by Renelle Sommerville (Ishtar)
Gold trophy winner
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