THE REVOLT OF THEBES
The ambition of making conquests in the East, which it now appeared impossible to retain, had deprived the Lacedæmonians of an authority, or rather dominion in Greece, acquired by the success of the Peloponnesian War, and which they might have reasonably expected to preserve and to confirm. Not only their power, but their safety, was threatened by the arms of a hostile confederacy, which had been formed and fomented by the wealth of Persia. Athens, their rival, their superior, their subject, but always their unrelenting enemy, had recovered her walls and fleet, and aspired to command the sea. Thebes and Argos had become sensible of their natural strength, and disdained to acknowledge the pre-eminence, or to follow the standard, of any foreign republic. The inferior states of Peloponnesus were weary of obeying every idle summons to war, from which they derived not any advantage but that of gratifying the ambition of their Spartan masters. The valuable colonies in Macedon and Thrace, and particularly the rich and populous cities of the Chalcidic region, the bloodless conquests of the virtuous Brasidas, had forsaken the interest of Sparta, when Sparta forsook the interest of justice. Scarcely any vestige appeared of the memorable trophies erected in a war of twenty-seven years. The eastern provinces (incomparably the most important of all) were irrecoverably lost; and this rapid decline of power had happened in the course of ten years, and had been chiefly occasioned by the fatal splendour of Agesilaus’ victories in Asia.
During five years the Spartans maintained, in the Cadmea at Thebes, a garrison of fifteen hundred men. Protected by such a body of foreign troops, which might be reinforced on the shortest warning, the partisans of aristocracy acquired an absolute ascendency in the affairs of the republic, which they conducted in such a manner as best suited their own interest, and the convenience of Sparta. Without pretending to describe the banishments, confiscations, and murders of which they were guilty, it is sufficient for the purpose of general history to observe, that the miserable victims of their vengeance suffered similar calamities to those which afflicted Athens under the Thirty Tyrants. The severity of the government at length drove the Thebans to despair; and both the persecuted exiles abroad, and the oppressed subjects at home, prepared to embrace any measures, however daring and hazardous, which promised them a faint hope of relief.
[382-379 B.C.]
Among the Theban fugitives, who had taken refuge in Athens, and whose persons were now loudly demanded by Sparta, was Pelopidas, the son of Hippoclus, a youth whose distinguished advantages might have justly rendered him an object of envy, before he was involved in the misfortunes of his country. He yielded to none in birth; he surpassed all in fortune; he excelled in the manly exercises so much esteemed by the Greeks, and was unrivalled in qualities still more estimable—generosity and courage. He had an hereditary attachment to the democratic form of policy; and, previous to the late melancholy revolution, he was marked out by his numerous friends and adherents as the person most worthy of administering the government. Pelopidas had often conferred with his fellow-sufferers at Athens about the means of returning to their country, and restoring the democracy; encouraging them by the example of the patriotic Thrasybulus, who, with a handful of men, had issued from Thebes, and effected a similar, but still more difficult, enterprise. While they secretly deliberated on this important object, Mellon, one of the exiles, introduced to their nocturnal assembly his friend Phyllidas, who had lately arrived from Thebes; a man whose enterprising activity, singular address, and crafty boldness, justly entitle him to the regard of history.
Phyllidas was strongly attached to the cause of the exiles; yet, by his insinuating complaisance, and officious servility, he had acquired the entire confidence of Leontiades, Archias, and the other magistrates, or rather tyrants, of the republic. In business and in pleasure, he rendered himself alike necessary to his masters; his diligence and abilities had procured him the important office of secretary to the council; and he had lately promised to Archias and Philip, the two most licentious of the tyrants, that he would give them an entertainment, during which they might enjoy the conversation and the persons of the finest women in Thebes. The day was appointed for this infamous rendezvous, which these magisterial debauchés awaited with the greatest impatience; and, in the interval, Phyllidas set out for Athens, on pretence of private business.
[379 B.C.]
In Athens, the time and the means were adjusted for executing the conspiracy. A body of Theban exiles assembled in the Thriasian plain, on the frontier of Attica, where seven, or twelve, of the youngest and most enterprising, voluntarily offered themselves to enter the capital, and to co-operate with Phyllidas in the destruction of the magistrates. The distance between Thebes and Athens was about thirty-five miles. The conspirators had thirteen miles to march through a hostile territory. They disguised themselves in the garb of peasants, arrived at the city towards evening with nets and hunting poles, and passed the gates without suspicion. During that night, and the succeeding day, the house of Charon, a wealthy and respectable citizen, the friend of Phyllidas and a determined enemy of the aristocracy, afforded them a secure refuge till the favourable moment summoned them to action.
Charon summoned before the Magistrates
The important evening approached, when the artful secretary had prepared his long-expected entertainment in the treasury. Nothing had been omitted that could flatter the senses, and lull the activity of the mind in a dream of pleasure. But a secret and obscure rumour, which had spread in the city, hung, like a drawn dagger, over the voluptuous joys of the festivity. It had been darkly reported that some unknown strangers, supposed to be a party of the exiles, had been received into the house of Charon. All the address of Phyllidas could not divert the terror of his guests. They despatched one of their lictors or attendants to demand the immediate presence of Charon. The conspirators were already buckling on their armour, in hopes of being immediately summoned to execute their purpose. But what was their astonishment and terror, when their host and protector was sternly ordered to appear before the magistrates! The most sanguine were persuaded that their design had become public, and that they must all miserably perish, without effecting anything worthy of their courage. After a moment of dreadful reflection, they exhorted Charon to obey the mandate without delay. But that firm and patriotic Theban first went to the apartment of his wife, took his infant son, an only child, and presented him to Pelopidas and Mellon, requesting them to retain in their hands this dearest pledge of his fidelity. They unanimously declared their entire confidence in his honour, and entreated him to remove from danger a helpless infant, who might become, in some future time, the avenger of his country’s wrongs. But Charon was inflexible, declaring, “that his son could never aspire to a happier fortune, than that of dying honourably with his father and friends.”
So saying, he addressed a short prayer to the gods, embraced his associates, and departed. Before he arrived at the treasury, he was met by Archias and Phyllidas. The former asked him, in the presence of the other magistrates, whose anxiety had brought them from table, “Who are those strangers said to have arrived the other day, and to be now entertained in your family?” Charon had composed his countenance so artfully, and retorted the question with such well-dissembled surprise, as considerably quieted the solicitude of the tyrants, which was totally removed by a whisper of Phyllidas, “that the absurd rumour had doubtless been spread for no other purpose but that of disturbing their pleasures.”
They had scarcely returned to the banquet, when Fortune, as if she had taken pleasure to confound the dexterity of Phyllidas, raised up a new and most alarming danger. A courier arrived from Athens with every mark of haste and trepidation, desiring to see Archias, to whom he delivered a letter from an Athenian magistrate of the same name, his ancient friend and guest. This letter revealed the conspiracy; a secret not entrusted to the messenger, who had orders, however, to request Archias to read the despatch immediately, as containing matters of the utmost importance. But that careless voluptuary, whose thoughts were totally absorbed in the expected scene of pleasure, replied with a smile, “Business to-morrow;” deposited the letter under the pillow of the couch, on which, according to ancient custom, he lay at the entertainment; and resumed his conversation with Phyllidas.
Matters were now come to a crisis; Phyllidas retired for a moment; the conspirators were put in motion; their weapons concealed under the flowing swell of female attire, and their countenances overshadowed and hid by a load of crowns and garlands. In this disguise they were presented to the magistrates intoxicated with wine and folly. At a given signal they drew their daggers, and effected their purpose. Charon and Mellon were the principal actors in this bloody scene, which was entirely directed by Phyllidas. But a more difficult task remained. Leontiades, with other abettors of the tyranny, still lived, to avenge the murder of their associates. The conspirators, encouraged by their first success, and conducted by Phyllidas, gained admission into their houses successively, by means of the unsuspected secretary. On the appearance of disorder and tumult, Leontiades seized his sword, and boldly prepared for his defence. Pelopidas had the merit of destroying the principal author of the Theban servitude and disgrace. His associates perished without resistance; men whose names may be consigned to just oblivion, since they were distinguished by nothing memorable but their cruel and oppressive tyranny.
The measures of the conspirators were equally vigorous and prudent. Before alarming the city, they proceeded to the different prisons, which were crowded with the unfortunate victims of arbitrary power. Every door was open to Phyllidas. The captives, transported with joy and gratitude, increased the strength of their deliverers. They broke open the arsenals, and provided themselves with arms. The streets of Thebes now resounded with alarm and terror; every house and family were filled with confusion and uproar; the inhabitants were universally in motion; some providing lights, others running in wild disorder to the public places, and all anxiously wishing the return of day, that they might discover the unknown cause of this nocturnal tumult.
During a moment of dreadful silence, which interrupted the noise of sedition, a herald proclaimed, with a clear and loud voice, the death of the tyrants, and summoned to arms the friends of liberty and the republic. Among others who obeyed the welcome invitation was Epaminondas, the son of Polymnis, a youth of the most illustrious merit; who united the wisdom of the sage and the magnanimity of the hero, with the practice of every mild and gentle virtue; unrivalled in knowledge and in eloquence; in birth, valour, and patriotism, not inferior to Pelopidas, with whom he had contracted an early friendship. The principles of the Pythagorean philosophy, which he had diligently studied under Lysis of Tarentum, rendered Epaminondas averse to engage in the conspiracy, lest he might imbrue his hands in civil blood. But when the sword was once drawn, he appeared with ardour in defence of his friends and country; and his example was followed by many brave and generous youths who had reluctantly endured the double yoke of domestic and foreign tyranny.
The approach of morning had brought the Theban exiles, in arms, from the Thriasian plain. The partisans of the conspirators were continually increased by a confluence of new auxiliaries from every quarter of the city. Encompassed by such an invincible band of adherents, Pelopidas and his associates proceeded to the market-place; summoned a general assembly of the people; explained the necessity, the object, and the extent of the conspiracy; and, with the universal approbation of their fellow-citizens, restored the democratic form of government.
Exploits of valour and intrepidity may be discovered in the history of every nation. But the revolution of Thebes displayed not less wisdom of design, than enterprising gallantry in execution. Amidst the tumult of action, and ardour of victory, the conspirators possessed sufficient coolness and foresight to reflect that the Cadmea, or citadel, which was held by a Lacedæmonian garrison of fifteen hundred men, would be reinforced, on the first intelligence of danger, by the resentful activity of Sparta. To anticipate this alarming event, which must have rendered the consequences of the conspiracy incomplete and precarious, they commanded the messenger, whom, immediately after the destruction of the tyrants, they had despatched to their friends in the Thriasian plain, to proceed to Athens, in order to communicate the news of a revolution which could not fail to be highly agreeable to that state, and to solicit the immediate assistance of the Athenians, whose superior skill in attacking fortified places was acknowledged by Greeks and barbarians. This message was attended with the most salutary effects. The acute discernment of the Athenians eagerly seized the precious opportunity of weakening Sparta, which, if once neglected, might never return. Several thousand men were ordered to march; and no time was lost, either in the preparation, or in the journey, since they reached Thebes the day after Pelopidas had re-established the democracy.
The seasonable arrival of those auxiliaries, whose celerity exceeded the most sanguine hopes of the Thebans, increased the ardour of the latter to attack the citadel. The events of the siege are variously related. According to the most probable account, the garrison made a very feeble resistance, being intimidated by the impetuous alacrity and enthusiasm, as well as the increasing number of the assailants, who already amounted to fourteen thousand men, and received continual accessions of strength from the neighbouring cities of Bœotia. Only a few days had elapsed, when the Lacedæmonians desired to capitulate, on condition of being allowed to depart in safety with their arms. Their proposal was readily accepted; but they seem not to have demanded, or at least not to have obtained, any terms of advantage or security for those unfortunate Thebans whose attachment to the Spartan interest strongly solicited their protection. At the first alarm of sedition, these unhappy men, with their wives and families, had taken refuge in the citadel. The greater part of them cruelly perished by the resentment of their countrymen; a remnant only was saved by the humane interposition of the Athenians. So justly had Epaminondas suspected, that the revolution could not be accomplished without the effusion of civil blood.[f]