The second siege of this celebrated city is much more satisfactory.
The Lacedæmonians, upon becoming masters of Thebes, made the inhabitants but too sensible of the weight of their yoke. Pelopidas, too noble to submit quietly to slavery, conceived the design of delivering his country; he addressed himself to the banished citizens, and he found them enter freely into his views. Many of his friends in the city were eager to share his enterprise; and one of them, named Charon, offered his house as a retreat for the conspirators. When they had secretly taken the most prudent precautions to insure success, Pelopidas drew near to the city. Before entering it, he held a council, in which it was agreed that all should not depend upon one cast of the dice, but that a small number should try their fortune first. Pelopidas and eleven of his brave companions accepted this perilous commission; they warned Charon of their approach, and proceeded towards Thebes, dressed as sportsmen, followed by hunting-dogs, and carrying in their hands nets and weapons of the chase. Before entering the city, they discarded their hunting appointments, assumed the guise of simple countrymen, and slipped in at various gates, all directing their course to the house of Charon. Philidas, one of the conspirators, that same evening gave a grand entertainment, at which Philip and Archias, the Lacedæmonian governors, were the most honoured guests. When these two were sufficiently warmed with wine to be insensible to anything but their pleasures, the conspirators proceeded to action, and, dividing themselves into two bodies, commenced by the easy immolation of Philip and Archias. Pelopidas and his party went straight to the house inhabited by Leontidas, one of the tyrants, who, on being roused from his sleep, seized his sword and struck the first conspirator that approached him dead at his feet; but he found a more successful opponent in Pelopidas: the brave Theban quickly laid the tyrant by the side of his unfortunate compatriot. After this bold attempt, the banished Thebans speedily joined the patriotic little band, and laid siege to the citadel. The Lacedæmonians were soon forced to capitulate; and this memorable enterprise, conceived by the genius of Pelopidas, and executed almost entirely by his own hand, procured the liberty of Thebes. We are sorry we cannot add, that that liberty was secured: the glory or prosperity of Thebes is an anomaly in history, it belongs principally to one generation. Pelopidas was the friend and companion of Epaminondas, with which great man—one of the greatest of all antiquity—the sun of Thebes arose and set.
THIRD SIEGE, A.C. 334.
After the celebrated battle of Chæronea, which laid the liberties of Greece at the feet of the ambitious Philip of Macedon, that king placed a garrison in Thebes; but scarcely had the inhabitants learnt the death of Philip, when they arose in mass, and slaughtered the Macedonians. Alexander, the son of Philip, afterwards styled the Great, passed through the Straits of Thermopylæ, rendered immortal by Leonidas and his Spartans, entered Greece, and marched directly towards the revolted city. On the way, he said to those who accompanied him, “Demosthenes in his harangues called me a child when I subdued Illyria; he styled me a giddy youth when I punished the Thessalians: we will now show him, under the walls of Athens, that I am a man grown.” His appearance in Bœotia, like the rest of the actions of his life, was carried into effect as soon as decided upon. When he reached the walls of Thebes, he was satisfied with requiring that Phœnix and Prothulus, the principal promoters of the insurrection, should be given up to him. The Thebans, however, insultingly replied by demanding Philotas and Antipater, Alexander’s generals and friends; and the young monarch found himself under the painful necessity of proceeding to extremities. Thebes had rendered such services to his father, that he proceeded to the infliction of punishment with great reluctance. A memorable battle ensued, in which the Thebans fought with ardour and courage; but, after a protracted struggle, the Macedonians who were left in the citadel, taking the Thebans in the rear, whilst the troops of Alexander charged them in front, they were almost all cut to pieces. Thebes was taken and pillaged. In the sack of this city, a lady of high quality exhibited an instance of courage and virtue too extraordinary to be passed by in silence. A Thracian officer, struck by her beauty, employed violence to satisfy his passion; and then characteristically proceeded to the indulgence of his avarice, by demanding of her where she had concealed her treasures. The lady, whose name was Timoclea, told him that she had cast them all into a well, which she pointed out to him. Whilst he was leaning over the brink, looking with greedy avidity for the treasure, she suddenly exerted all her strength, pushed him in, and beat him to death with stones. Timoclea was arrested, and led before Alexander; but, with all his errors, the young Macedonian had too much generosity of character not to be struck by such an action, and he pardoned her. We wish we could say he was equally lenient towards the Thebans; but the unfortunate city was razed to the ground, and thirty thousand of its inhabitants were sold into slavery.
He here, however, first displayed that love of letters, and veneration for men distinguished in them, which characterized him during his short but brilliant career; for, amidst the general destruction, he ordered the house in which the lyric poet Pindar was born to be held as sacred as a temple, and, at the same time, sought out and provided for all the descendants of the family of the bard of Thebes.
The history of this city is a remarkable one. Although not ranking so high as Sparta or Athens, it was raised to an equal importance by the courage, talents, and high moral character of one man. Epaminondas is, perhaps, the noblest specimen Greece has handed down to us of the hero, in all senses: and to his career was bounded the glory of his native city; it rose with him, and with him expired.
TROY.
A.C. 1184.
The next siege we meet with is the most celebrated in history or fiction, not so much on its own account, as from its good fortune in having the greatest poet the world has produced as its chronicler. If Homer had not placed this great siege in the regions of fable by his introduction of immortals into the action, it would still be a myth, as is all we know of Greece at the period at which it took place. Hypercritics have, indeed, endeavoured to make over the whole of it to the muses who preside over fiction; but we cannot accede to their decision. There is a vital reality in the characters of Homer, which proves that they did exist and act; a blind old bard might sing the deeds of heroes, and perhaps clothe those deeds with some of the splendour of his genius; but we have no faith in his having created the men, any more than he did the immortals, who belonged to the mythology of his country long before he was born. There is nothing in the “song of Troy divine” that is dissonant with the character of the age; so far to the contrary, we believe the poet has given a more faithful picture of the heroes, and the events connected with them, than any historian has done. Achilles is as perfect from the hands of Homer, as Alexander from the pen of Quintus Curtius or Arian. If we disperse the mist of diablerie which surrounds Macbeth, we shall find him a human character, acted upon by human passions, independently of the witches; and so with Homer’s heroes: they are all most essentially real men, notwithstanding the gorgeous mythology that attends them, and act as they would have done without immortal intervention. We have as perfect faith in the history of the siege of Troy, as in most of the pages of what has been termed the “great lie.” Independently of the work of genius for ever associated with it, the siege of Troy is a memorable epoch in human annals.