The brutal massacre began just before sunrise, that cold winters day, in the predawn light where, in the frigid air, the sounds of the Macedonian riders approach carried far off across the open plain whilst the villagers of Thespiea lie sleeping in their warm beds. Yet soon the peace they quietly slumbered in was wholly shattered as they awoke together in a panic stirred by the echo of thundering horses hooves pounding the cold hard earth coming towards them at a quickening pace. The terrified people sprung up quickly trying to gather their children desperately hurrying to scurry away and flee from the force that they could not see, nor could they resist. All were sore afraid these marauders, murders, were coming to cut them all off from the land of the living.
Calls came up from the rooftops from a few old men "We are here! Defenseless, women, children, the sick and the elderly! There are no Spartans stationed at the garrison!" for so it was, for this was January, Wintertime, a closed season in Greece for warring and fighting. Now was the time for the annual marriages that took place during the festival Gameon, honoring Zeus and Hera. During this time no wars were permitted between any of the city-states, this was a well respected peace agreement for generations upon generations. That was until young Phillip the Second came to the Ancient Argead throne. Now his lust for revenge and greed for more and more territory had led him to send out 200 of his fiercest cavalry officers to go on this bloody raid on the tiny village nestled at the base of Mt.Helicon, where the Spartans stabled hundreds of fine Themiscyran horses trained for war. So all, and any, shouts for mercy and pity were well ignored by the Macedonians whose response came at the end of their sharpened swords and spears as they charged into the village creating chaos as their hapless victims, those able to run, did their best to get away or hide. Those who could not escape, due to illness or infirmity, were crushed under the stampede of hooves the surging force of violence unyielding. The brutality of the northern warriors who came after their human prey in a torrent of blood, poured out in a vicious crimson tide along with those innocent peoples lives. The slashing and stabbing went on for what seemed an eternity to the small group of children, hidden in fear in the bushes watching the grisly scene, doing their best to remain silent trying not to scream. So it was their child's eyes and minds were witness to the sickness as the Macedonians, their white armor soaked in scarlet streaks of their fathers and mothers blood, slew all those they encountered, laughing in the faces of the old men and young children as they hacked off hands and limbs, then the heads began to fall. Yet the worst was saved for last when the men gathered up all the pregnant women, all 27 of them, lining them up in a row. Phillip's soldiers took turns slicing open up the bellies of each of the screaming women, wagering between them if the still living fetus was a boy or a girl. Such was the horrific atrocity that would be attributed to the hated king of Macedon Phillip II.
Over 400 innocent men, women and children lost their lives that cold, bloody winters day, cut down by the sharpest swords, or burned alive, trapped inside as fires were set to all the buildings and structures. Only the empty stables were left standing as a haunting reminder to the Spartans of the loss of all their magnificent horses. When the frightened creatures were rounded up and herded away the remaining Macedonian warriors began mutilating the bodies of the dead; which only served to whip them up into a frenzy, as they hacked of portions of the corpses as gruesome trophies of war, for what they had just accomplished was to commit a brutal act of war, armed aggression against Sparta's friend and ally, the people of Thespiea whom had allied with Sparta since the Battle of Nemea, a friendship for forty years destroyed in one morning. For the destruction of Thespiae was Phillip's mission given to his warriors, who obeyed him blindly. To serve their king, in this most foul and detestable way, was the highest form of loyalty they could demonstrate, so of course they could claim they were, in fact, doing the correct and honorable thing. However, those little children who watched in shock and horror, hidden from sight, could plainly see all their horrific misdeeds, then when the strange invaders built a bonfire, as the sun arose far off on the horizon, what they saw made them collapse into each other's arms out of sheer terror, for their minds could not take in the gruesome scene. The triumphant cries came up from the brutal, blood soaked soldiers, as they tossed chunks of human flesh, arms, legs, heads upon the raging flames, for this they did in Phillips name and for the sake of their most favored god Ares, their lord of war, whom they worshiped and sacrificed to, all for his strength and protection.The burning of their victims bodies served as a symbolic offering, a votive token, of their love and admiration as the ashes of the innocent floated up ever higher in the heavens on a trail of black smoke there was not a cloud in the bright blue sky. So this came to pass and it was many hours later when the three little children, hidden, the only ones still alive, trembled in fear together as they slowly crept up, making sure the Macedonians had disappeared they took off in a flash, running as fast as their little legs could carry them heading south to the nearest town for they had send news of the destruction of the city, and her people, to King Vyakles, ruler of Sparta. As for the Macedonian cowards they traveled along the low foothills eastward seeking refuge with their ally, the city of Thebes, where they welcomed with open arms.
Calls came up from the rooftops from a few old men "We are here! Defenseless, women, children, the sick and the elderly! There are no Spartans stationed at the garrison!" for so it was, for this was January, Wintertime, a closed season in Greece for warring and fighting. Now was the time for the annual marriages that took place during the festival Gameon, honoring Zeus and Hera. During this time no wars were permitted between any of the city-states, this was a well respected peace agreement for generations upon generations. That was until young Phillip the Second came to the Ancient Argead throne. Now his lust for revenge and greed for more and more territory had led him to send out 200 of his fiercest cavalry officers to go on this bloody raid on the tiny village nestled at the base of Mt.Helicon, where the Spartans stabled hundreds of fine Themiscyran horses trained for war. So all, and any, shouts for mercy and pity were well ignored by the Macedonians whose response came at the end of their sharpened swords and spears as they charged into the village creating chaos as their hapless victims, those able to run, did their best to get away or hide. Those who could not escape, due to illness or infirmity, were crushed under the stampede of hooves the surging force of violence unyielding. The brutality of the northern warriors who came after their human prey in a torrent of blood, poured out in a vicious crimson tide along with those innocent peoples lives. The slashing and stabbing went on for what seemed an eternity to the small group of children, hidden in fear in the bushes watching the grisly scene, doing their best to remain silent trying not to scream. So it was their child's eyes and minds were witness to the sickness as the Macedonians, their white armor soaked in scarlet streaks of their fathers and mothers blood, slew all those they encountered, laughing in the faces of the old men and young children as they hacked off hands and limbs, then the heads began to fall. Yet the worst was saved for last when the men gathered up all the pregnant women, all 27 of them, lining them up in a row. Phillip's soldiers took turns slicing open up the bellies of each of the screaming women, wagering between them if the still living fetus was a boy or a girl. Such was the horrific atrocity that would be attributed to the hated king of Macedon Phillip II.
Over 400 innocent men, women and children lost their lives that cold, bloody winters day, cut down by the sharpest swords, or burned alive, trapped inside as fires were set to all the buildings and structures. Only the empty stables were left standing as a haunting reminder to the Spartans of the loss of all their magnificent horses. When the frightened creatures were rounded up and herded away the remaining Macedonian warriors began mutilating the bodies of the dead; which only served to whip them up into a frenzy, as they hacked of portions of the corpses as gruesome trophies of war, for what they had just accomplished was to commit a brutal act of war, armed aggression against Sparta's friend and ally, the people of Thespiea whom had allied with Sparta since the Battle of Nemea, a friendship for forty years destroyed in one morning. For the destruction of Thespiae was Phillip's mission given to his warriors, who obeyed him blindly. To serve their king, in this most foul and detestable way, was the highest form of loyalty they could demonstrate, so of course they could claim they were, in fact, doing the correct and honorable thing. However, those little children who watched in shock and horror, hidden from sight, could plainly see all their horrific misdeeds, then when the strange invaders built a bonfire, as the sun arose far off on the horizon, what they saw made them collapse into each other's arms out of sheer terror, for their minds could not take in the gruesome scene. The triumphant cries came up from the brutal, blood soaked soldiers, as they tossed chunks of human flesh, arms, legs, heads upon the raging flames, for this they did in Phillips name and for the sake of their most favored god Ares, their lord of war, whom they worshiped and sacrificed to, all for his strength and protection.The burning of their victims bodies served as a symbolic offering, a votive token, of their love and admiration as the ashes of the innocent floated up ever higher in the heavens on a trail of black smoke there was not a cloud in the bright blue sky. So this came to pass and it was many hours later when the three little children, hidden, the only ones still alive, trembled in fear together as they slowly crept up, making sure the Macedonians had disappeared they took off in a flash, running as fast as their little legs could carry them heading south to the nearest town for they had send news of the destruction of the city, and her people, to King Vyakles, ruler of Sparta. As for the Macedonian cowards they traveled along the low foothills eastward seeking refuge with their ally, the city of Thebes, where they welcomed with open arms.
No comments:
Post a Comment