The Rescue Of Thebes


On a certain cold and wet evening, in the month of December of the year

379 B.C., seven men, dressed as rustics or hunters, and to all

appearance unarmed, though each man had a dagger concealed beneath his

clothes, appeared at the gate of Thebes, the principal city of the

Boeotian confederacy. They had come that day from Athens, making their

way afoot across Mount Cithaeron, which lay between. It was now just

nightfall
and most of the farmers had come into the city from the

fields, but some late ones were still returning. Mingling with these,

the seven strangers entered the gates, unnoticed by the guards, and were

quickly lost to sight in the city streets. Quietly as they had come, the

noise of their coming was soon to resound throughout Greece, for the

arrival of those seven men was the first step in a revolution that was

destined to overturn all the existing conditions of Grecian states.



We should like to go straight on with their story; but to make it clear

to our readers we must go back and offer a short extract from earlier

history. Hitherto the history of Greece had been largely the history of

two cities, Athens and Sparta. The other cities had all played second or

third parts to these great and proud municipalities. But now a third

city, Thebes, was about to come forward, and assume a leading place in

the history of Greece. And of the two men who were to guide it in this

proud career, one was among the seven who entered the gates of the city

in rustic garb that rainy December night.



Of the earlier history of Thebes little need be said. It played its part

in the legendary story of Greece, as may be seen in our story of the

"Seven against Thebes." During the Persian invasion Thebes proved false

to its country, assisted the invaders, and after their repulse was

punished for its treasonable acts. Later on it came again into prominent

notice. During the Peloponnesian war it was a strong ally of Sparta.

Another city, only six miles away, Plataea, was as strong an ally of

Athens. And the inhabitants of these two cities hated each other with

the bitterest animosity. It is a striking example of the isolated

character of Greek communities, and one that it is difficult to

understand in modern times, that two cities of one small state, so near

together that an easy two hours' walk would take a traveller from the

gates of one to those of the other, could be the bitterest of enemies,

sworn allies of two hostile states, and the inhabitants ready to cut

each other's throats at any opportunity. Certainly the sentiment of

human brotherhood has vastly widened since then. There are no two cities

in the civilized world to-day that feel to each other as did Plataea and

Thebes, only six miles apart, in that famous era of Grecian

enlightenment.



We have told how Plataea was taken and destroyed, and its defenders

murdered, by a Spartan army. But it is well to say here that Thebans

formed the most fiercely hostile part of that army, and that it was the

Thebans who demanded and obtained the murder in cold blood of the

hapless prisoners.



And now we pass on to a date less than fifty years later to find a

remarkable change in the state of affairs. Athens has fallen from her

high estate. Sparta is now the lord and master of the Grecian world. And

a harsh master has she proved, with her controlling agents in every

city, her voice the arbiter in all political concerns.



Thebes is now the friend of Athens and the foe of Sparta, the chief

among those cities which oppose the new order of things. Yet Thebes in

379 B.C. lies hard and fast within the Spartan clutch. How she got there

is now for us to tell.



It was an act of treason, some three years before, that handed this city

over to the tender mercies of her old ally, her present foe. There was a

party in Thebes favorable to Sparta, at whose head was a man named

Leontiades. And at this time Sparta was at war with Olynthus, a city far

to the north. One Spartan army had marched to Olynthus. Another, led by

a general named Phoebidas, was on its march thither, and had halted

for a period of rest near the gymnasium, a short distance outside the

walls of Thebes. There is good reason to believe that Phoebidas well

knew what Leontiades designed, and was quite ready to play his part in

the treacherous scheme.



It was the day of the Thesmophoria, a religious festival celebrated by

women only, no men being admitted. The Cadmeia, or citadel, had been

given to their use, and was now occupied by women alone. It was a warm

summer's day. The heat of noon had driven the people from the streets.

The Senate of the city was in session in the portico of the agora, or

forum, but their deliberations were drowsily conducted and the whole

city seemed taking a noontide siesta.



Phoebidas chose this warm noontide to put his army in march again,

rounding the walls of Thebes. As the van passed the gates Leontiades,

who had stolen away from the Senate and hastened on horseback through

the deserted streets, rode up to the Spartan commander, and bade him

turn and march inward through the gate which lay invitingly open before

him. Through the deserted streets Phoebidas and his men rapidly made

their way, following the traitor Theban, to the gates of the Cadmeia,

which, like those of the town, were thrown open to his order as

polemarch, or war governor; and the Spartans, pouring in, soon were

masters not only of the citadel, but of the wives and daughters of the

leading Theban citizens as well.



The news got abroad only when it was too late to remedy the treacherous

act. The Senate heard with consternation that their acropolis was in the

hands of their enemies, their wives captives, their city at the mercy of

the foe. Leontiades returned to his seat and at once gave orders for the

arrest of his chief opponent Ismenias. He had a party armed and ready.

The Senate was helpless. Ismenias was seized and conveyed to Sparta,

where he was basely put to death. The other senators hurried home, glad

to escape with their lives. Three hundred of them left the city in

haste, and made their way as exiles to Athens. The other citizens, whose

wives and daughters were in Spartan hands, felt obliged to submit.

"Order reigned" in Thebes; such was the message which Leontiades bore to

Sparta.



Thus it was that Sparta gained possession of one of her greatest

opponents. Leontiades and his fellows, backed by a Spartan general,

ruled the city harshly. The rich were robbed, the prisons were filled,

many more citizens fled into exile. Thebes was in the condition of a

conquered city; the people, helpless and indignant, waited impatiently

the slow revolution of the wheel of destiny which should once more set

them free.



As for the exiles at Athens, they sought in vain to obtain Athenian aid

to recover their city from the foe. Athens was by no means in love with

Sparta, but peace had been declared, and all they could agree to do was

to give the fugitives a place of refuge. Evidently the city, which had

been won by treason, was not to be recovered by open war. If set free at

all it must be by secret measures. And with this intent a conspiracy was

formed between the leaders of the exiles and certain citizens of Thebes

for the overthrow of Leontiades and his colleagues and the expulsion of

the Spartan garrison from the citadel. And this it was that brought the

seven men to Thebes,--seven exiles, armed with hidden daggers, with

which they were to win a city and start a revolution which in the end

would destroy the power of Sparta the imperial.



Of the seven exiles who thus returned, under cover of night and

disguise, to their native city, the chief was Pelopidas, a rich and

patriotic Theban, who was yet to prove himself one of the great men of

Greece. Entering the gates, they proceeded quietly through the streets,

and soon found an abiding-place in the house of Charon, an earnest

patriot. This was their appointed rendezvous.



And now we have a curious incident to tell, showing on what small

accidents great events may hinge. Among the Thebans who had been let

into the secret of the conspiracy was a faint-hearted man named

Hipposthenidas. As the time for action drew near this timid fellow grew

more and more frightened, and at length took upon himself, unknown to

the rest, to stop the coming of the exiled patriots. He ordered Chlidon,

a faithful slave of one of the seven, to ride in haste from Thebes, meet

his master on the road, and bid him and his companions to go back to

Athens, as circumstances had arisen which made their coming dangerous

and their project impracticable.



Chlidon, ready to obey orders, went home for his bridle, but failed to

find it in its usual place. He asked his wife where it was. She

pretended at first to help him look for it, but at last, in a tone of

contrition, acknowledged that she had lent it, without asking him, to a

neighbor. Chlidon, in a burst of anger at the delay to his journey,

entered into a loud altercation with the woman, who grew angry on her

part and wished him ill luck on his journey. Word led to word, both

sides grew more angry and abusive, and at length he began to beat his

wife, and continued his ill treatment until her cries brought neighbors

in to separate them. But all this caused a loss of time, the bridle was

not in this way to be had, and in the end Chlidon's journey was stopped,

and the message he had been asked to bear never reached the conspirators

on their way. Accidents of this kind often frustrate the best-laid

plans. In this case the accident was providential to the conspiracy.



And now, what were these seven men to do? Four men--Leontiades, Archias,

Philippus, and Hypates--had the city under their control. But they were

supported in their tyranny by a garrison of fifteen hundred Spartans and

allies in the Cadmeia, and Lacedaemonian posts in the other cities

around. These four men were to be dealt with, and for that purpose the

seven had come. On the evening of the next day Archias and Philippus

designed to have a banquet. Phyllidas, their secretary, but secretly one

of the patriots, had been ordered to prepare the banquet for them, and

had promised to introduce into their society on that occasion some women

of remarkable beauty and of the best families in Thebes. He did not hint

to them that these women would wear beards and carry daggers under their

robes.



We have told, in a previous tale, the story of the "Seven against

Thebes." The one with which we are now concerned might be properly

entitled the "Seven for Thebes." That night and the following day the

devoted seven lay concealed. Evening came on. The hour when they were to

play their parts had nearly arrived. They were in that state of strained

expectation that brings the nerves to the surface, and started in sudden

dread when a loud knock came upon the door. They were still more

startled on hearing its purpose. A messenger had come to bid Charon

instantly to come to the presence of the two feasting polemarchs.



What did it mean? Had the plot been divulged? Had the timid

Hipposthenidas betrayed them? At any rate, there was but one thing to

do; Charon must go at once. But he, faithful soul, was most in dread

that his friends should suspect him of treachery. He therefore brought

his son, a highly promising youth of fifteen, and put him in the hands

of Pelopidas as a hostage for his fidelity.



"This is folly!" cried they all. "No one doubts you. Take the boy away.

It is enough for us to face the danger; do not seek to bring the boy

into the same peril."



Charon would not listen to their remonstrances, but insisted on leaving

the youth in their hands, and hastened away to the house of the

polemarchs. He found them at the feast, already half intoxicated. Word

had been sent them from Athens that some plot, they knew not what, was

afloat. He was known to be a friend of the exiles. He must tell them

what he knew about it.



Fortunately, the pair were too nearly drunk to be acute. Their

suspicions were very vague. Charon, aided by Phyllidas, had little

trouble in satisfying them that the report was false. Eager to get back

to their wine they dismissed him, very glad indeed to get away. Hardly

had he gone before a fresh message, and a far more dangerous one, was

brought to Archias, sent by a namesake of his at Athens. This gave a

full account of the scheme and the names of those who were to carry it

out. "It relates to a very serious matter," said the messenger who bore

it.



"Serious matters for to-morrow," cried Archias, with a drunken laugh, as

he put the unopened despatch under the pillow of his couch and took up

the wine-cup again.



"Those whom the gods mean to destroy they first make mad," says an

apposite Grecian proverb. These men were foredoomed.



"A truce to all this disturbance," cried the two polemarchs to

Phyllidas. "Where are the women whom you promised us? Let us see these

famous high-born beauties."



Phyllidas at once retired, and quickly returned with the seven

conspirators, clothed in female attire. Leaving them in an adjoining

chamber, he entered the banquet-room, and told the feasters that the

women refused to come in unless all the domestics were first dismissed.



"Let it be so," said Archias, and at the command of Phyllidas the

domestics sought the house of one of their number, where the astute

secretary had well supplied them with wine.



The two polemarchs, with one or two friends, alone remained, all half

intoxicated, and the only armed one being Cabeirichus, the archon, who

was obliged by law to keep always with him the consecrated spear of

office.



And now the supposed and eagerly expected women were brought in,--three

of them attired as ladies of distinction, the four others dressed as

attendants. Their long veils and ample robes completely disguised them,

and they sat down beside the polemarchs without a suspicion being

entertained. Not till their drunken companions lifted their veils did

the truth appear. But the lifting of the veils was the signal for quick

and deep dagger thrusts, and Archias and Philippus, with scarcely a

movement of resistance, fell dead from their seats. No harm was meant to

the others, but the drunken archon rushed on the conspirators with his

spear, and in consequence perished with his friends.



There were two more of the tyrants to deal with. Phyllidas led three of

the conspirators to the house of Leontiades, into which he was admitted

as the bearer of an order from the polemarchs. Leontiades was reclining

after supper, with his wife spinning wool by his side, when his foes

entered his chamber, dagger in hand. A bold and strong man, he instantly

sprang up, seized his sword, and with a thrust mortally wounded the

first of the three. Then a desperate struggle took place in the doorway

between him and Pelopidas, the place being too narrow for the third to

approach. In the end Pelopidas dealt him a mortal blow. Then,

threatening the wife with death if she gave the alarm, and closing the

door with stern commands that it should not be opened again, the two

patriots left the house and sought that of Hypates. He took the alarm

and fled, and was pursued to the roof, where he was killed as he was

trying to escape over the house-tops.



This work done, and no alarm yet given, the conspirators proceeded to

the prison, whose doors they ordered to be opened. The jailer hesitated,

and was slain by a spear-thrust, the patriots rushing over his body into

the prison, from whose cells the tenants were soon released. These, one

hundred and fifty in number, sufferers for their patriotic sentiments,

were quickly armed from battle-spoils kept near by, and drawn up in

battle array. And now, for the first time, did the daring conspirators

feel assurance of success.






The tidings of what had been done by this time got abroad, and ran like

wildfire through the city. Citizens poured excitedly into the streets.

Epaminondas, who was afterwards to become the great leader of the

Thebans, joined with some friends the small array of patriots.

Proclamation was made throughout the city by heralds that the despots

were slain and Thebes was free, and all Thebans who valued liberty were

bidden to muster in arms in the market-place. All the trumpeters in the

city were bidden to blow with might and main, from street to street, and

thus excite the people to take arms to secure their liberty.



While night lasted surprise and doubt continued, many of the citizens

not knowing what to do. But with day-dawn came a wild outburst of joy

and enthusiasm. Horsemen and footmen hastened in arms to the agora.

Here a formal assembly of the Theban people was convened, before whom

Pelopidas and his fellows appeared to tell what they had done. The

priests crowned them with wreaths, while the people hailed them with

joyful acclamations. With a single voice they nominated Pelopidas,

Mellon, and Charon as Boeotarchs,--a Theban title of authority which

had for a number of years been dropped.



Such was the hatred which the long oppression had aroused, that the very

women trod underfoot the slain jailer, and spat upon his corpse. In that

city, where women rarely showed themselves in public, this outburst

strongly indicated the general public rage against the overthrown

despots. Messengers hastened to Attica to carry to the exiles the glad

tidings, and soon they, with a body of Athenian volunteers, were in

joyful march for the city.



Meanwhile, the Spartans in the citadel were in a state of distraction

and alarm. All night long the flashing of lights, the blare of trumpets,

the shouts of excited patriots, the sound of hurrying feet in the city,

had disturbed their troubled souls, and when affrighted partisans of the

defeated party came hurrying for safety into the Cadmeia, with tidings

of the tragic event, they were filled with confusion and dismay.

Accustomed to look to the polemarchs for orders, the garrison did not

know whom to trust or consult. They hastily sent out messengers to

Thespiae and Plataea for aid, but the forces which came to their help from

these cities were charged upon by the Thebans and driven back with loss.



What to do the Spartan commander knew not. The citizens were swarming

in the streets, and gathering in force around the citadel. That they

intended to storm it before aid could come from Sparta was evident. In

fact, they were already rushing to the assault,--large rewards being

offered those who should first force their way in,--when a flag of truce

from the garrison stopped them in mid-career. The commander proposed to

capitulate.



All he asked was liberty to march out of Thebes with the honors of war.

This was granted him, under oath. At once the foreign garrison filed out

from the citadel and marched to one of the gates, accompanied by the

Theban refugees who had sought shelter with them. These latter had not

been granted the honors of war. Among them were some of the prominent

oppressors of the people. In a burst of ungovernable rage these were

torn from the Spartan ranks by the people and put to death; even the

children of some of them being slain. Few of the refugees would have

escaped but for the Athenians present, who generously helped to get them

safely through the gates and out of sight and reach of their infuriated

townsmen.



And thus, almost without a blow, in a night's and a morning's work, the

city of Thebes, which for several years had lain helpless in the hands

of its foes, regained its liberty. As for the Spartan harmosts, or

leaders, who had capitulated without an attempt at defence, two of them

were put to death on reaching home, the third was heavily fined and

banished. Sparta had no mercy and no room for beaten men.



Thebes was free! The news spread like an electric shock through the

Grecian world. A few men, taking a desperate risk, had in an hour

overthrown a government that seemed beyond assault. The empire of

Sparta, the day before undisputed and nearly universal over Greece, had

received a serious blow. Throughout all Greece men breathed easier,

while the spirit of patriotism suddenly flamed again. The first blow in

a coming revolution had been struck.



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