Chapter Twenty Eight

The dread year '76 ended at last, by the mercy of God. After hurrying some six annas in the rupee of Bengal's people — how many millions, who can tell? — into the abode of Yama, that evil twelvemonth itself fell into the jaws of Time. In '77 the Almighty was gracious. The rains came down in due measure, the earth grew heavy with grain, and they that were yet alive ate their fill. Many, weakened by long famine and scant food, could not bear sudden plenty; and these also perished.

The earth was fertile, but bare of men. From village to village empty houses stood, become the resting-place of wild beasts and the haunt of ghostly fears. From village to village hundreds of acres of fertile soil lay untilled and unyielding, or else passed wholly into jungle. The whole country was overrun with forest. Where erst the green and laughing corn had stood, where countless kine and buffaloes had grazed, where the gardens had been the pleasure-grounds of village youths and maidens, there now grew up dense and dreadful jungle.

One year passed, then two, then three; and the jungle still spread. Where men had once been happy, the man-eating tiger now came forth in pursuit of the deer. Where fair women, their feet stained with lac, had passed with the tinkling of anklets, jesting with their companions and laughing aloud, there the she-bear made her den and reared her cubs. Where children, fresh as the evening jasmine, had laughed the heart-gladdening laugh of their tender years, there the wild elephant now moved in maddened herds, splintering the great trunks of trees.

Where the Durga puja had once been held, there was the jackal's burrow; on the dol-platform the owl had its lodging; in the temple hall the venomous serpent sought the frog at noonday. In Bengal the grain ripened, but there were none to eat it; goods came to market, but there were none to buy; the cultivator tilled, but no money came into his hand — he could not pay the zamindar's rent; the zamindar could not pay the King's revenue. The King resumed the zamindaris, and the zamindar-class, stripped of all, fell into beggary.

Mother Earth bore plentifully, yet wealth grew not. There was no wealth in any man's house. Whoso could seize, devoured. Thieves and dacoits raised their heads; the honest man took fright and hid himself within doors.

Meanwhile the Children daily worshipped the lotus-feet of Vishnu with sandal-paste and tulsi-leaves; and in whatsoever house there was musket or pistol, they seized it and bore it off. Bhabananda had laid this command upon them: "Brothers! if on the one hand ye see a chamber full of gems and rubies and diamond and coral, and on the other a broken musket, leave the gems and rubies and diamond and coral, and bring the broken musket away."

Thereafter they began to send spies from village to village. The spy would go into the village, and wheresoever he found a Hindu would say: "Brother, wilt thou worship Vishnu?" Thus gathering twenty or five-and-twenty together, they would fall upon the Mussulman village and set fire to the houses of the Mussulmans.

The Mussulmans, in fear for their lives, were thrown into confusion; the Children plundered all that they had and distributed it among these new devotees of Vishnu. When the villagers, gladdened by a share of the spoil, came to the temple of Vishnu and touched the feet of the image, they were initiated as Children. Men saw that there was manifest profit in being a Child. The more so, since under the lawlessness and misrule of the Mussulman kingdom all had grown bitterly weary of the Mussulman.

With the eclipse of the Hindu faith, many Hindus were eager of heart for its re-establishment. Day by day, therefore, the number of the Children waxed. Day by day, in hundreds, and month by month, in thousands, fresh Children came and bowed themselves at the lotus-feet of Bhabananda and Jibananda, and went forth in bands to every quarter to chastise the Mussulman. Wheresoever they laid hands on a King's officer, they beat him soundly, and now and again slew him; wheresoever they came upon the public treasure, they plundered it and bore it home; wheresoever they came upon a Mussulman village, they burned it down to ashes.

The local King's officers then sent out troop upon troop to quell the Children; but by this time the Children were banded together, well-armed, and full of high pride. Before their fierceness the Mussulman soldiery could not advance. If they did advance, the Children fell upon them with measureless might, hewed them in pieces, and raised the cry of Hari. If at any time a band of Children was put to the worse by the Yavana soldiers, straightway another band of Children, sprung from no one knew where, would strike off the heads of the victors and depart, crying Hari, Hari.

It was at this season that the famed Warren Hastings, the morning sun of the Anglo-Indian race, was Governor-General of India. Sitting in Calcutta, he forged a chain of iron, and bethought him: "With this chain will I bind down the sea-girt and island-studded land of India." On a day God upon His throne had answered without doubt, "Be it so." But that day was yet far off. To-day, at the dread Hari-cry of the Children, even Warren Hastings was shaken.

Warren Hastings sought at first to put down the rising with the levies of the magistracy. But such was the condition of the magistrate's sepoys that, if they heard the name of Hari upon the lips of so much as an old woman, they would flee. Seeing then no other course, Warren Hastings sent forth a body of Company's troops under the command of a tried soldier, one Captain Thomas, to suppress the revolt.

Captain Thomas, on his arrival, set about the most excellent dispositions for the suppressing of the rebellion. He called for the troops of the King and the troops of the zamindars, and joined them with the well-trained, well-armed, and very stout sepoys of the Company, both native and foreign. The combined force he then parted into companies, and over each set a captain meet for the command. To each captain he gave a portion of country, saying: "Thou shalt sweep through such-and-such province as a fisherman sweeps with his net. Wheresoever thou seest a rebel, take his life, as one crushes an ant." The Company's soldiery, some heated with ganja, some with rum, fixed bayonet upon musket and rushed forth to slay the Children.

But the Children were now beyond count and unconquerable; and Captain Thomas's troops were mown down as the corn falls before the cultivator's sickle. With the cry of Hari, Hari, the ears of Captain Thomas were made deaf.