Anglo-Saxon Campaigns

Pope Gregory was indeed Great. However, even he, the "Christ's Representative on the Earth", could not create a new people. He didn't know how. Italy was neither unified nor peaceful after Lombardy (Italian: Lombardia) was annexed. The country would always be divided between North and South. Different peoples live there, although after so many centuries they call themselves Italians and Catholics, and speak a single language.

The Langobards had been and remained Türks. They couldn't be made over. In 567, they launched a war against Rome, a war that found support from thousands of Europe's Kipchaks. Centuries of unrest in Italy began here, in Lombardy. Their Türkic blood has not cooled to the present day.

It follows that there was a blending of languages in Italy - a blending of tongues, not of people. Religion unified and reconciled them. But it could not change the people. One simply cannot create a people. The blood of one's ancestors doesn't die: it is passed on to their descendants, in each and every one of their cells. And, finally, in their souls.

Memory of the past can die among a people, but not forever. It is awoken by the voice of blood. It turns out that there really is such a thing; to this day, it will not let the Türkic Europe to be extinguished.

Back then, the Roman Catholic Church attracted not just the Langobards, but the Kipchaks from the banks of the Rhine as well. What evoked its interest? Not the acquisition of new lands. On the Rhine, the Türks had found rich deposits of iron ore and had begun smelting it. They called these lands Tering, which translates as "something bountiful". It was this that attracted the Church - iron. Without it, Western Europe would have remained in the background of the medieval world.

The Benedictine monks showed up there unexpectedly, wishing to "unite what remained of the Roman Empire with the youthful strength of the Türks, now victorious throughout the land". Everything went precisely according to plan; by now, they were the experts.

Earlier, Celts had lived on the Rhine. They were not an expressive people. This is how one Benedictine monk brought news of their encounter with the Kipchaks: the Celts "looked with surprise upon these people who were superior to them in body and spirit". They were surprised by the clothing of the Kipchaks, their weapons, and especially their "firmness of spirit".

Their surprise was understandable: the Celts themselves wore kilts, had no knowledge of iron, and had never seen a horse. Their lives were completely different from those of the Türks, but the same as the rest of the native Europeans.

There were also Gauls living along the Rhine; they were little different from Celts. However, the Romans labeled the Gauls along the Rhine, like the Celts and local Kipchaks who were living there, simply as Germanic tribes, even though they clearly were different peoples. In general, little was known about the ethnicity during the Dark Ages.

The Byzantines, for example, referred to all non-Byzantines as either Scythians or Celts. They meant, of course, not the ethnicity, but the population of one country or another.

"Germanic tribes" generally meant the population of non-Roman and non-Byzantine Europe. There were two main kinds of peoples: forest and steppe. In forested areas, the population lived in ways completely different from those of the steppe. They differed in their everyday lives, economies, languages, religions and clothing. But most importantly, their weapons were different. In chronicles, the "steppe Germans" were called "Tungrys", "Tangrys" and "Tengrys". What do these words tell us?

The Avars, Alemanni, Barsili, Bulgars, Burgundians, Goths, Ostrogoths, Gepidae, Huns, Langobards, Utiguri and Kurtiguri - history lists dozens of names and dozens of "Germanic peoples". Here is a line from a Byzantine letter of 572: "[They are] Huns, whom we usually call 'Turks'." Everything now falls into place.

This line, of course, is not the only testimony.

It seems that other "Germanic peoples" spoke Türkic, and were not in any way different from one another. Their language, customs and history were entirely the same. They enjoyed metalwork, fought on horseback, drank koumiss and wore trousers; some wore blond wigs. All these facts are well-known to historians and archaeologists.

It is also well-known that in Saxony, a dragon was their guardian spirit. Until the 12th century, this emblem of the Ancient Altai decorated the banners of the "Germans".

When historians speak of the wild "Germanic tribes", they are frankly misguided. They don't know that the Türks earlier lived by a rule, according to which an ulus (clan), upon coming to power, would give their name to the horde. Sometimes, a horde assumed the name of its Khan, or Leader. Sometimes, if there was a reason to do so, they would think up a name for themselves.

The Türks are sharp-tongued and are true masters at turning out apt sobriquets. The names "Gepidae" and "Gepanta", for example, did not spring into being by accident. There is a legend about this: it tells of how the Goths were crossing the sea and some of their fellow countrymen fell behind - their ship was the last to make it to shore. "Gepid" means "lazy". There is also an untranslatable Türkic play on words here: gepi anta literally means "linger there till dried".

Chronicles record that "the Langobards and Avars subsequently separated from the Gepidae".

It was quite another story with the Avars, one which is well-known. In the 6th century, this clan fled to Europe from the Altai, and the Great Khan sent an army after them. They chased but couldn't catch them, since the Avars had hidden in the Caucasus. They then moved on to Constantinople, and from there to the Alps, to what is now Bavaria and its inhabitants are called Bavarians.

Yet another example. The sons of one khan were named Utigur and Kurtigur. After the death of their father, the two sons went their separate ways. Their hordes started to be called the Utiguri and the Kurtiguri. One shaved the back of their heads; the other, their entire heads. This was how the two "Germanic peoples" differed from one another.

Some continued to wear their hair long, or left just their forelocks, that is, oseledets in Türkic. The "Germanic" Kipchaks lived the same life they lived in the Great Steppe and built the same cities; they didn't know how to build them differently.

Their cities live on to this day. One of them is the famous Calais - Türkic for "fortress". It is not made of stone but of wood, with an earthen rampart. The Strait of Pas-de-Calais is named in its honor. The island that faces it is called Albion in the Roman chronicles, but the Kipchaks gave it a new name: Inglend.

Why Inglend?

In the ancient Türkic words the prefix ing- meant "booty". Inglend - or "England" - literally meant the "land of booty". It was captured in one of their campaigns.

In the 5th and 6th centuries, the famous Anglo-Saxon campaigns took place. It was then that two large hordes crossed to the island. They were led by Khan Kerdic (Cerdic) and his son, Kynric (Cynric) (does the name "Heinrich" - Henry, Henri, Enrique, Enrico - not come from this?). Horsemen armed with pikes boarded their ships, then disembarked onto the island. This event is stamped indelibly in English history.

Legends about those times have been handed down.

A young Kipchak was walking along the bank of a river, barely able to move his legs. Thick gold chains hung on his exhausted body; on his wrists were bracelets set with precious gems. The islanders asked him, "What do you need all that treasure for?" "I'm looking for a buyer," he replied. "I don't care what price you pay."

Then one of them said: "I'll give you lots of river sand." The youth agreed. He gave this man the gold in exchange for a bag full of river sand and left. Everyone laughed after him, and congratulated their fellow who had so easily duped the foreigner.

The next day, the horsemen came. The villagers were beside themselves. Then, the young man with his bag full of sand stepped forward and began throwing handfuls of sand along the riverbank. The islanders instantly fell silent: they understood that it was now his land, bought for the gold of the day before.

As was their tradition, the Türks encamped, then built a fortress, naming it simply Kent - a "stone fortress". No one ever disturbed them after that, since they had acquired the land honestly.

Thus began the English pages of the Türkic history.

English Kipchaks

About the Anglo-Saxon campaigns has been diligently forgotten.

For centuries tales have been spun about the bestiality of the newcomers. Myths have arisen, one after the other, to the point of absurdity. Today the uneducated public understands the history of Great Britain better than most scholars. There is too much there that has been confused.

Britain's early history remains essentially unstudied; the Church, which has itself fabricated the history of England, forbade it. In the 8th century, a Benedictine monk from Jarrow Monastery, Bede the Venerable, wrote a book called "Ecclesiastical History of the English People". With it began the lies that, like scum, have covered the once-clear Thames for ever.

There is, however, another, genuinely brilliant work - a work by the great English historian Edward Gibbon. It consists of seven unsurpassed volumes, written in the 18th century. Gibbon wrote of Dark Ages Europe like no one else. He told in detail a bit more than the Church would let him. This "bit more" sufficed thoroughly to earn a rebuke from the Pope and his underlings:

The past of Great Britain is so well known to the least educated of my readers and is so obscure for the most scholarly of them, Gibbons noted sadly.

Actually, there was no conquest of England; the Britons themselves invited the "most wise Saxons" (as they called the Kipchaks) to their island. They themselves set aside fertile lands for the Saxons, so that they might teach them how to cultivate them. They adopted their unusual breeds of livestock. They recognized Tengri and His cross. None of this was forced on them.

For centuries the Türkic spirit has been diligently cleansed from the English history. The "roving Huns" that came to the shores of Foggy Albion and became the beloved heroes of the old English ballads, had already been forgotten.

It was as though there had never been a preacher in England named Aidan, who revealed to the Britons the faith of the God of Heaven. The pastor roamed through the English countryside with an interpreter; therefore, he could not have been a native Briton. Earlier, in 432, it was from his hands that the most revered of Ireland's saints - St. Patrick - received the cross.

It should be noted that in those years there was no Latin cross. It was thought up a century later. At that time, the Christians used the Türkic equilateral cross. Such crosses can still be seen on the monuments of Old England; they are the only ones that archaeologists find.

This is a very important historical detail.

English people now pronounce the name Aidan ("Light" in Türkic) a bit differently - "Eden". Let them. However, to their honour, they have never tried to distort the preacher's feat. They have left it unchanged - though, it is true, without many details.

Forgotten too are the ancient burial kurgans that remain in southern England from the time of Attila, although they haven't disappeared entirely and can still be seen. They are exactly the same as the kurgans of the Altai - or the Great Steppe. In the town of Sutton-Hoo, in the county of Suffolk, there is even a royal kurgan, the biggest of the 15 kurgans known there.

Found there were weapons and gold ornaments. Filigree, genuine works of art. The ornaments are purely Türkic. Especially beautiful are the figurines of deer. They are exact reproductions of the Altai deer. It is as though they had been brought from there. And this was in England, the country upon which, as the history books assert, "wild barbarians" descended in the 5th century.

Incidentally, the word "London" is of Türkic origin, this word already in the 5th century was warning barefoot British boys about innumerable snakes along that river. "London" stems from the Chinese word lung ("dragon", "snake") plus Türkic don ("icy, cold", like Herodotus' "icy Tanais", i.e. "icy Icy-is", which show that Herodotus knew the Türkic meaning of "Tan" - Translator's Note)

It is better not to discuss here the language of the ancient Britain at all. Otherwise, we might ruin the future holiday of the Türkological linguists who will, perhaps, choose to study this mystery. Most probably, the striking similarity of Türkic and ancient British words will attract their attention. There are many such examples. Here are some of the first to have been found:

"young" (Türk. yang, Engl. yang=young); "immediately" (Türk. tap, Engl. tap?); sated (Türk. tok, Engl. tok=take/intake); "attach" ( Türk. tak, Engl. tack; "soul" (Türk. sulde,  Engl. soul); Aidan (Türk. Aidan, Engl. Eden). Very close in meaning and spelling are the ancient Türkic and British words for "dress/fashion" (ton); "to notch" and "a notch" (kert and kerf); and "to thunder" (tang, tung and tang). Even the famous Tower of London was connected with the hill upon which it stood, the tau ("hill" or "mountain").

Could the language of ancient Britain have been a dialect of Türkic? "That is the question!"

The Anglo-Saxons adopted Latin under pressure from the Church, as demonstrate their books. For example, the "Laws of Ethelbert", the earliest book in Anglo-Saxon, was made at the turn of the 6th and 7th centuries in the city of Kent. It repeated the laws of the Langobards and other Kipchaks, because the new Englishmen lived by them as well. The text was written in runes, like the other old English books. The "Laws of Ethelbert" then mysteriously disappeared. Why? The reason for that is also clear.

The books of old England were burned by the Church during Inquisition. There remain copies, however, which from time to time are found under most unexpected circumstances. Such finds are invaluable.

By all indicators, the old English literature was very expressive. We know that in the poetic "Bestiary" there are three guardian spirits: the snow leopard, the whale and the partridge. Where did the Anglo-Saxons learn of the snow leopard, which is found only in the Altai? Where did they learn of the Altai customs of indulging spirits?

Other "Anglo-Saxon" traditions are entirely Türkic. Especially their beloved clap on the shoulder, without which a Türk is not a Türk.

Do the forgetful English know that their traditional game of polo (played on horseback with mallets) (Tr. čögän/čoɣan) was also born in the Altai long before the Great Migration of the Peoples? Only there they played it not with a wooden ball, but with a head of an enemy sealed in a leather bag. It was a ceremonial game of Victory.

No, the blood of the Kipchaks did not grow cold in the chilly veins of the Anglo-Saxons. It is fully revealed in the appearance and behavior of these people. They're fully capable of getting hot under the collar, and they are lovers of box - or of a good fistfight.

They even continue to drink tea with milk, like shepherds in their tents, since this is the only way their ancestors drank tea. They love horses and horse racing, because no Kipchak could live without them. In the forests of their beloved England, they hunt foxes and deer just as the Türks hunted - on horseback, since they neither knew how nor wanted to do it differently. Englishmen are also experts at falconry. Where did the inhabitants of Albion, on the edge of the Roman Empire, get all these things?

They are an interesting people: they guard their traditions without understanding that these are remnants of their earlier culture - a culture that has been forgotten. Or, more exactly, one they were ordered to forget.

For example, they hung on to their old monetary system and coins to the very last. Their "confusing" money, which often evoked derision, also was an echo of the steppe era.

Thus, the English word "shilling" came from the Türkic "sheleg", or "unconvertible coin", which is also made up of twelve smaller, "convertible" coins. "Penny" came from "peneg", or "small coin". And, of course, the word "sterling" itself comes from a monetary weight unit of the Türks, the "sytyr", "sytyrlig", and it also was equal to twenty "shelegs". All this was exactly the same for the English.

The similarity of the Türkic word "manat" and the English word "money" only reinforces this observation, since they both mean exactly the same thing.

For centuries now a bag of sheep's wool has been kept in the English Parliament. The very same was a symbol of authority for the Kipchaks: out in the Great Steppe, this is what those elected as judges sat on… And those who wear frock coats don't know that they come from the Altai.

Meanwhile, the neighbours of the English - the Scots, who wear kilts and love to play the bagpipes - have a completely different way of life and cannot stand anything "Türkic". These things are, therefore, alien to them. Neither did the other nation of Great Britain, the Welsh, whom the English themselves referred to as foreigners, adopt anything Türkic. They have a completely different way of making merry - one that is too boring for a true Turki.

The English Kipchaks now parade about importantly and self-confidently, like peacocks. They've forgotten what their ancestors from the Altai taught them: "Don't wear other people's pants; you won't be able to cover yourself with them". This is true folk wisdom.

With Christ, the Benedictine monks dressed the Anglo-Saxons in other people's pants, but they couldn't cover them up entirely. They didn't make a new people.

The monks' leader, Augustine, became the first Anglo-Saxon bishop in 597. The power of the Church was confirmed in England from the hand of the Pope. It soon became known as first among the Catholic lands. By the fourth or fifth generation, it would look upon its "wild" forebears with revulsion. Everything happened exactly as it had with the Langobards and Burgundians.

The monks disembarked on the island of Tan, along the Kentish coast (again, that was an "icy, cold" island of Tan - Translator's Note). They went to the King, knowing that his wife had secretly become a Catholic before their marriage and had offered shelter to monks. Soon, Ethelbert, not yet a king but already not a khan, adopted Catholicism, and subsequently so did his subjects.

From this time forward, they carried out the will of the Pope, the "Christ's Representative on the Earth". True, out of stubbornness, other Anglo-Saxons kept two altars in their churches: one for Tengri, and one for Christ. This, however, solved nothing; the people's soul had been sold.

The argument over whose altar was better went on for a very long time; it was not settled until 663. The Romans once again contrived to promise faithful Anglo-Saxons the Key to Heaven, if they would keep but one altar in their churches. This was done, and England became Christian.

Their dual faith was kept all the same: the norm is embodied to this day in the Anglican Church, while the Catholic Church remains a dark shadow of the England's past.

Its stamp is indelible.