CHAPTER V.
The unhappy widow now prepared herself to perform the dreadful sacrifice which was to free her from the cares of this world and exalt her to the Swerga bowers, or Hindoo paradise. She was stationed before the door of the house of mourning in a kind of rostrum, which was profusely and extravagantly ornamented; tomtoms, trumpets, and cymbals continuing their deafening clangouras before. She placed a small piece of areka-nut between her almost motionless lips and softly aspirated the name of Somnat’s idol. She next adorned her head, neck, and arms with all her jewels, arraying herself in sumptuous apparel, as if about to appear at the marriage ceremony, instead of a funeral solemnity.
The array of her person being concluded, she proceeded toward the place of sacrifice, accompanied by numerous friends, to the sound of those instruments which had already preceded the procession of her husband’s body. Several Brahmins, including the hierophant, walked by her side encouraging her with assurances that she was going to enjoy eternal felicity in regions where there is no misery known, and where she would become the sita[8]of some god who would espouse her as a reward for her constancy and virtue. They further promised her that her name should be celebrated throughout the earth, and sung in all their future sacrifices. This proves a strong stimulus to some women, who go to the pile voluntarily, and with an enthusiasm truly astonishing; for there is no legal obligation to perform the suttee.
A cup was now handed to the unhappy victim of the most barbarous superstition that has ever stained the black annals of fanaticism. She drank of it without the slightest emotion. In a few minutes the effects of this draught were visible. Her eyes glistened; she erected her frame to the full height of her stature, and looked around her with a flushed cheek and stern severity of purpose which sufficiently showed that the fever of enthusiasm was beginning to circulate rapidly through her veins. As the aged Brahmin approached her, she looked at him with a glance of defiant scorn, and pointing to the pile on which the corpse of her husband had been laid, said, with a raised brow and flashing eye—
“Dost thou think I would escape that fiery passage to everlasting repose? Thou wouldst withhold me from my glory. My soul shall ascend on wings of flame to the abodes of those who never die. I see the beckoning spirit in yonder cloud waiting tobear mine to its eternal home. Thou wouldst tear me from my bliss. Away, away!”
She immediately grew calm and began to prepare for the sacrifice with a truly sublime solemnity. Her relations came to her, with an alacrity that showed how gratified they felt at the oblation she was about to offer. The place was surrounded by an immense concourse, upon whom the victim occasionally cast a glance of pity mixed with triumph at the approaching consummation of her destiny. The music, if such it might be termed, had ceased while the preliminaries of the sacrifice were taking place, and an intense and awful silence reigned among the assembled multitude.
The beautiful widow now advanced to the foot of the pyre, prepared to consume that exquisite frame in the early freshness of its blossoming youth. The Brahmins crowded round her, endeavouring to sustain her fortitude to endure the coming trial by songs in which they artfully introduced the most fulsome eulogies of her heroism. This appeared to elevate her courage amid the awful array of death. It was now announced to her that the fatal moment had arrived when the flames were to embrace one of the most perfect bodies that Nature had ever moulded. She did not quail at the summons. Her eye dilated, her nostrils expanded, her lips parted, and her whole countenance was lighted up with a sublime energy of expression that recorded, with the mute but soul-stirring voice of an oracle, the deep and solemn purpose which engrossed her soul. She stood a few moments as if in prayer. Her babe was brought and placed within the arms of a once yearning mother. The feelings of nature revived. She spoke not, but pressed it tenderly to her bosom. Tears streamed down her cheeks in a flood, still not a feature quivered. The palpitations of her heart were perceptible under the slight muslin drapery that covered her bosom. It heaved beneath the suppressed throes of her emotion, but the countenance betrayed not the internal struggle. Her tears gradually ceased to flow. Her eye cleared and resumed its former expression of solemn determination, and she waved her hand as a signal that she was ready.
Two Brahmins now advanced with lighted torches. Havingfervently kissed her infant, she placed it in the arms of an attendant, and it was instantly removed from her sight. At this moment her nearest relations approached; to these she bade a tender adieu. Having distributed her jewels among them, she embraced them severally, when they retired and left her alone with the ministers of death.
Not a breath stirred among the multitude as she prepared to ascend the pile. Hundreds stood agape with awe at witnessing the solemn spectacle. Having performed certain preliminary rites, a signal was given by the chief Brahmin, when she raised her dark but bloodless brow towards heaven, sprang upon the pile, embraced her husband’s corpse, and in a few moments was enveloped in flames and smoke, which hid her from the sight of those who had assembled to behold this dreadful sacrifice.
No sooner was the fire kindled than the notes of innumerable instruments were heard, shouts and acclamations rent the air, in order to prevent the sufferer’s screams of agony being heard. Ghee was poured upon the burning pyre to accelerate the horrible process of destruction, and the flames raged with such fury that in a short time not a vestige remained but the ashes of the dead. The crowd then quietly dispersed, rejoicing at having witnessed so acceptable a holocaust.
While this dreadful act of superstition was performing, the town of Somnat was in a state of siege; still the turbid stream of fanaticism was not diverted from its course. When the Mahomedans invested Somnat, the citizens had flocked from all parts and crowded the ramparts to repel the enemy; but so soon as they saw their formidable array, the discipline of their troops, and the fearless manner in which they rushed to the assault, the astonished Hindoos, alarmed for their own safety, thronged to the temple by hundreds, prostrating themselves before their favourite idol, and supplicating deliverance from their foes. Many, drowned in tears, vowed to perform sundry dreadful penances in case the Mahomedans were repelled from their walls; but the idol returned no answer to their petitions.
Mahmood, perceiving the ramparts almost deserted, orderedhis troops to advance to the walls and apply the scaling-ladders, which was instantly done; and they commenced to mount the ramparts, shouting aloud “Allah Akbar!” God is great! Those Hindoos who remained upon the battlements, offered a spirited resistance. With the wild energy of despair they rushed upon the Mahomedan soldiers as they ascended, and threw them headlong from the ladders. Hearing the noise of the assault, and the enemy’s war-cry, those citizens who had quitted the walls in order to propitiate their divinity by prayer, returned to the ramparts in vast numbers, and opposed themselves to the besiegers. These latter, no longer able to retain their footing, wearied with their exertions, and dispirited by such unexpected opposition, fell back on all sides, and were at length obliged to retire.
Next morning the action was renewed with no better success, for as fast as the besiegers scaled the walls they were cast down backward by the besieged, who now gaining confidence from the advantage obtained on the preceding day, resolved to defend their city to the last. They imagined that the divinity who presided over Somnat had heard their prayers, and would not permit their foes to triumph over them; and under this impression they fought with a resolution that bore down all opposition. They poured into the temple after the repulse of their enemies with offerings to their idol, which were of course accepted, to their great joy and that of the divinity’s ministers, who undertook to dispose of those offerings in a manner worthy of the liberality of the devotees who presented them.
Mahmood was perplexed beyond measure at the disastrous issue of the siege. He saw his army daily diminishing in an undertaking upon which he had set his heart. He determined however to accomplish his object, or perish before the walls of Somnat.
For some days he made no attempt against the town, but remained quiet, in order to restore the confidence of his troops, which had been greatly shaken by the unsuccessful issue of the late assault.
Their success against the beseigers had greatly elated the citizens,and they began to despise the foe which they had so much dreaded. In order to show his contempt for the Mahomedans, a devotee let himself down by a rope from the rampart, and advancing towards the enemy’s camp, stood before the king’s tent, braving Mahmood with his late failure, and prophesying that every Mahomedan would be blasted by the breath of Somnat’s idol before the rising of another sun. He was at first looked upon as a madman, but some of Mahmood’s soldiers being at length incensed at his audacity, seized him, and brought him before their sovereign. Upon being asked why he had quitted the town, he replied he came to warn them that they would be all swept from the face of the earth by the vengeance of a god who would not spare them for their attempt to profane his holy shrine.
“I come to defy you,—to show how impotent you are to impose injury upon anyone claiming especial protection of the divinity worshipped by all pious Hindoos. You are all under the ban of our idol. You are doomed to destruction. I go to prepare the scourge that shall sweep you from the face of this globe.”
“You will never return,” said Mahmood, “to accomplish your contemplated plan of retribution; but I will show yonder fanatics how little reliance is to be placed upon the god of an idolator. What say you to hanging in the sight of your city’s battlements?”
“You dare not provoke the vengeance of an enemy which has already convinced you of its might. I despise your threats—I fear not hanging—death has no terrors for me—violence towards one whose penances have purified his spirit for a higher gradation of existence in another life, will only bring the curse of retribution upon you, while to me it secures blessings which you will never have an opportunity of enjoying.”
“Soldiers,” said Mahmood to some of his military attendants, “hang that madman upon the nearest tree.”
The Hindoo smiled as he heard the order given.
“My death will be avenged,” said he, “though you send me to Paradise. You may deprive me of life, but you cannot withhold from me the power of defying and scorning the race of Islam.”
At a signal from their sovereign, several soldiers seized thefanatic, and hung him upon a tree within sight of the ramparts. The man died uttering expressions of triumph at his martyrdom. He was seen from the walls by his countrymen, who imprecated curses upon the heads of his murderers. The body was cut down as soon as life was extinguished, the head severed from the trunk, and flung over the battlements of Somnat. The citizens bore it to their temple in triumph.
FOOTNOTES:[8]Bride.
[8]Bride.
[8]Bride.