Thrasybulus

Thrasybulus, son of Lycus, an Athenian. If valour is to be weighed by itself, apart from fortune, I doubt whether I should not place this man first of all. This at least is beyond doubt: I prefer no one to him in good faith, steadfastness, greatness of soul, and love of country. For what many have wished and few have been able to do — to free their country from a single tyrant — to him it fell to deliver his country, oppressed by thirty tyrants, from slavery into liberty. But somehow, though no one surpassed him in these virtues, many outstripped him in renown. First, in the Peloponnesian War he did many things without Alcibiades, while Alcibiades did nothing without him; yet Alcibiades, by a certain natural gift, won the credit of it all. But all those exploits, after all, are shared by commanders with their soldiers and with fortune, since, in the clash of battle, the matter passes from counsel to the turns of chance and the valour of those who fight. And so by his own right the soldier claims some part from the commander, but fortune claims most, and can truly proclaim that she availed more in these things than they. But that most magnificent deed belongs properly to Thrasybulus. For when the thirty tyrants, set over them by the Lacedaemonians, held Athens crushed in slavery, and had partly driven from their country, partly slain, very many citizens whom fortune had spared in the war, and had divided among themselves the confiscated goods of very many, he was not only the leader, but at the outset alone, in declaring war upon them.

For when he had fled to Phyle, which is a most strongly fortified stronghold in Attica, he had with him no more than thirty of his own followers. This was the beginning of the deliverance of the Athenians, this the bulwark of the liberty of that most renowned state. Nor indeed was he, and his lonely band, not despised at first by the tyrants. And this very thing was both the ruin of those who despised him and the safety of him who was despised: for it made them slow to pursue, and him, by the time given for preparation, the stronger. The more, therefore, ought that precept to be in the minds of all: that nothing in war ought to be despised, and that not without reason is it said that the mother of a coward is not wont to weep. Yet the forces of Thrasybulus did not increase in proportion to expectation: for even then, in those times, the good spoke more bravely for liberty than they fought. From here he crossed over into the Piraeus and fortified Munychia. This the tyrants twice set about assaulting, and, being shamefully repulsed from it, fled forthwith back into the city, with their arms and baggage lost. Thrasybulus used no less prudence than courage. For he forbade harm to be done to those who yielded (for he thought it fair that citizens should spare citizens), and no one was wounded except him who first chose to attack. He stripped no fallen man of his garment, touched nothing but the arms, of which he had need, and what pertained to sustenance. In the second battle Critias fell, the leader of the tyrants, while fighting most bravely against Thrasybulus.

When he had been overthrown, Pausanias, king of the Lacedaemonians, came to the aid of the Athenians. He made peace between Thrasybulus and those who held the city on these conditions: that none, save the thirty tyrants and the ten who had afterwards been made magistrates and had used the same cruelty as their predecessors, should be visited with exile, nor their goods confiscated; that the administration of the commonwealth be restored to the people. This too was a noble act of Thrasybulus: that, peace being reconciled, when he had the greatest influence in the state, he proposed a law that no one should be accused or punished for things done before, and they called it the law of oblivion. Nor did he take care merely that this law be passed, but he also brought it about that it had force. For when certain of those who had been in exile together with him wished to make slaughter of those with whom reconciliation had been made publicly, he prevented it and made good what he had promised.

To him, for such great services, a crown was given by the people for honour's sake, made of two olive sprigs. Because the love of the citizens, and not force, had wrung it out, it brought him no envy and was a great glory. Well, then, did that Pittacus — who was reckoned among the number of the Seven Wise Men — when the Mytilenaeans offered him many thousand acres of land as a gift, say: 'Do not, I beg you, give me that which many would envy, and still more would covet. Wherefore, of those acres I wish no more than a hundred, which may attest both my own moderation of spirit and your good will.' For small gifts are wont to be lasting, rich ones not to be one's own. Content, therefore, with that crown, Thrasybulus sought nothing more, nor thought that anyone had surpassed him in honour. At a later time, when as general he had brought his fleet to shore at Cilicia, and the watches in his camp were kept with too little diligence, he was slain in his tent by the barbarians, who made a sally by night from the town.