In the serious literature of the great periods Bœotia is treated with respect. Plutarch complains that Herodotus misrepresented Thebes in the Persian Wars, and warns his readers that as there are venomous insects at the heart of roses so beneath the historian’s delightful and persuasive style lurk defamation and vituperation of “the noblest and greatest cities and men of Greece.” But if Herodotus has diverged from the truth, in this instance a questionable supposition, he has at least looked upon Thebes as an enemy and not overlooked her as a boorish community. In the history of Thucydides also, and even of the bigot Xenophon, Bœotian cities make a dignified, if not always virtuous, appearance among the actors on the national stage.
In poetry Bœotia receives her full rights as a contributor to the imaginative life of Greece. In Homer not only is the Bœotian harbour of Aulis the meeting place of the Greek fleet before it sets sail for Ilium, but also Bœotian landscapes beautify heroic episodes with their rivers flowing between green banks, their open meadows and bright groves, their flocks of tame doves and grassy ways. In the Homeric Hymns Bœotian vineyards and furrows bloom under the swift feet of golden-haired Apollo and mischievous Hermes. Above all, in the Attic dramatists Bœotian Thebes is the scene of the epiphany of gods and of the sorrows of humanity. The legendary past of this city was crowded with personages whose glories and whose dooms were on so grand a scale that they became to the tragic poets of Athens, and still are to us, symbols of the unceasing conflict between will and destiny. The Theban legends more than any others, save those of Argos, appealed to Æschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides as fitted for their dramatic purpose of arousing “pity and terror.” In using this material they displayed a familiarity with the Thebes of their own day which is a striking proof that men of sense and feeling could delight in Bœotia. Æschylus perceived the fertility of the land and the fairness of Dirce, goodliest of streams. Sophocles seems to have heard and never forgotten the soft murmur of the river Ismenus. And Euripides knew intimately the wild ivy growing over the city towers and the berries and flowers of the city gardens, the golden wheat-fields and cooling springs of the surrounding country, the “deep pine greenery” and “fallen oak leaves” within the forests of Mount Cithæron, the mountain torrents cleaving the narrow, crag-topped glens, the gleaming snow forever resting on the mountain’s heights.
Furthermore, Bœotia had its own traditions of culture. Although creative artistic power was exemplified only in Hesiod, the originator of a new literary movement, and in Pindar, the most eminent lyric poet of Greece, there was revealed in the architecture, sculpture, and painting which enriched cities and sanctuaries, and in the poetry and music which were conspicuous at festivals, a critical taste as trustworthy as any outside of Attica. Educational ideals also tended toward a genuine if not always vigorous cultivation. Plutarch’s ripe refinement is a late but not a solitary example.
Thus accoutred against prejudice we may hope more fairly to appraise the good and the evil in Bœotian life.
Bœotia has one of the most fortunate situations in Greece, for its frontiers are either protected by high mountains or border on two arms of the sea—the Gulf of Corinth and the Gulf of Eubœa—which in antiquity connected her with the extended maritime life of Greece and put her into easy communication with Attica and the Peloponnesus.
Within the mountain barriers the Bœotian country consists of two plains separated by hills. The flatness of the northern plain is unrelieved, and the rivers that flow into it, like the Cephisus, find no outlets except by katavothras or channels which they force for themselves under Mount Ptoön in the north. The frequent stoppage of these channels turned a large part of the plain into the famous Copaic Lake, the drainage of which moved prehistoric engineers to wonderful feats, tempted to comparative failure the less expert engineers of successive historic periods, and has finally been accomplished by modern skill. Within a few years a British company has reclaimed for the growing energies of modern Greece thousands of acres of land that will yield two crops a year.
The southern basin of Bœotia is smaller and also less homogeneous and monotonous than the northern. Thebes occupies a small plateau of its own on the northern side of a low range of hills that divides it from the larger part of the plain, given over to the beautiful valley of the Asopus.
The fertility and charm of Bœotia may still be appreciated. In antiquity cities and towns, busied with the industries of the soil and of the sea, gave evidence also of the practical resources supplied by Nature. And yet it must be admitted that the historical importance of Bœotia falls somewhat short of its obvious advantages. Only after Athens and Sparta had risen successively to the hegemony of Greece and again lost their power did Thebes play a leading rôle in national politics. And at no time did Bœotians vie either in energy or genius with the people of barren Attica. An explanation often given is that the unhealthful climate and heavy atmosphere of the country modified natural impulses to enterprise. The Athenians, as we have seen, laid great stress on the brilliant freshness of their own air as promoting intelligence. But another explanation takes into account the mystery of racial characteristics. Before Bœotia was conquered, sometime in the centuries, preceding Homer, by the northern race from Epirus and Thessaly which gave the country its name and began the “historic period,” there existed both in the north and in the south older peoples of evident wealth and power. For centuries Orchomenus was the leading city, not only of the northern plain but of the whole country. Its mighty kings and golden splendour were still a bright memory to Homer, and excavations have brought to life for us indications of the richness of its civilization. Exceptionally impressive and interesting ruins of a fortress now known as Goulas (or Gha or Gla) have been discovered on what used to be the eastern bank of the Copaic Lake. And at Thebes also we shall find traces of a people as advanced as any in prehistoric Greece. In the early ages the air of Bœotia does not seem to have prevented conspicuous progress in political power or in the arts. The northern invaders, then, would seem to have been responsible for the defects of later history, failing to construct a civilization equal to the one they had been able to destroy. In the case of the arts especially, it is significant that Pindar, the only Bœotian poet of the first order, was not of unmixed Bœotian blood, but belonged to a branch of the Ægidæ, who traced their pedigree back to the pre-Bœotian rulers of Thebes. Of this descent, distinguished in the eyes of all Greeks, Pindar was justly proud. And yet he was a loyal son of Thebes and assumed his share in the “ancient reproach” of “Bœotian swine.” We are at liberty, therefore, to emphasize his country before his blood.
Modern Thebes is huddled on the site of the ancient acropolis, its poverty serving as a reminder of the desolation which as early as Strabo’s time had fallen upon one of the great cities of Greece. Pausanias found the lower city deserted, save for the sanctuaries, the population being restricted to the acropolis, and Dio Chrysostom had seen a solitary image standing among the ruins of the old market-place. In the middle ages Fortune returned to Thebes from time to time, but under the Turks deserted her in apparent despair. Doubtless the town will revive as the modern nation gathers its forces. In the mean time it serves to indicate the area of the stronghold or acropolis built by the prehistoric settlers. Before the middle of the fifth century the city had grown westward to the stream of Dirce, and eastward to the river Ismenus. After that time, as is evident from remains of city walls, the area was even more extended.
The mythological past of Thebes was greater than any of its historic periods. Her early citizens shone brilliantly among those—