Anandamath

Chapter XI

Just then the guns of Captain Thomas appeared in the south. Then the Santans began indeed to be cut up, there was no hope left of anybody escaping. They began to run away wherever they could, Jivananda and Dhirananda tried their level best to restrain and hold them together, but could not succeed at all. At that moment a loud cry was heard — “Go to the bridge, manoeuvre towards the bridge!”

Jivananda looked that way and found Bhavananda in front of him. Bhavananda said, “Take them to the bridge, there is no hope of escape now.”

Then slowly the Santan force began falling backward to the direction of the bridge. But as reaching the bridge many Santans began pouring across it, the British guns availing themselves of this opportunity literally began sweeping the bridge with their guns. The Santans began to be annihilated. Bhavananda, Jivananda and Dhirananda met together. One particular gun was the cause of loss of a large number of Santans. Bhavananda said, “Jivananda and Dhirananda! Come on, with the sweep of our swords let us capture this gun.” Then all the three whirling their swords cut down all gunners near it. More and more Santans came to their help. The gun was captured by Bhavananda, Taking possession of it Bhavananda stood up on it. He clapped his hands and said, “Sing — Hail Mother!” They all sang “Hail Mother!” Bhavananda said, “Jivananda, let us turn this gun against them and let us pound them into wheat flour good enough for preparing loochis.” The Santans took hold of the gun and reversed it. Then the gun began roaring as it were the name of Hari to the ear of the Vaishnabas. Many Sepahis began to get killed with its help. Bhavananda dragged the gun forward and placing it at the mouth of the bridge said, “Both of you take the Santan army across the bridge in a line, I shall alone protect the bridge head. Leave with me a few gunners to fire the gun.” Twenty picked Santans remained by Bhavananda’s side.

Then by the order of Jivananda and Dhirananda countless Santans began reaching the other side of the river crossing the bridge in an unbroken row. Single-handed Bhavananda, aided by those twenty Santans, destroyed any number of soldiers with the help of that isolated gun. But those Javana hordes were like the surge of waves. Wave after wave, wave after wave — they surrounded Bhavananda, oppressed and almost drowned him. Bhavananda, tireless, unconquerable and fearless, went on killing numerous soldiers at every burst of his gun. The Mussulman hordes like storm-driven waves went on attacking him, but those twenty Santans with their gun kept the bridge head successfully sealed. They refused to get wiped out — the Mussulmans could not get on the bridge. Those heroes were unconquerable, those lives were immortal. Availing themselves of this opportunity band after band of Santans crossed over to the opposite bank. Given some time more and the bridge thus protected, all the Santans could safely go across the bridge; just at that moment from somewhere new guns began sending out boom after boom, roar after roar. Both sides ceased fighting for a time and looked about themselves for the whereabouts of these guns. They saw that several guns led by Indian gunners were emerging out of the forest. Coming out of the woods this huge row of guns belching smoke from their seventeen muzzles began showering fire on Hay’s troops. Forest and hills echoed back that fearful din. Mussulman hordes tired out by the day-long fighting began trembling for fear of their life. Before that shower of flame Mussulmans and Hindusthanis began to run away. Only isolated British soldiers stood their ground and died on the spot.

Bhavananda was witnessing the fun. He said, “Brother, the Mussulmans are taking to their heels, come, let us attack them.” Then with renewed energy, just like swarms of ants, the Santans recrossed the bridge and rushed to attack the Mussulmans; they fell suddenly on them. The Mohammedans had hardly any opportunity or time to fight, just as the currents of the Bhagirathi had swept away that mountain-like huge proud mad elephant, so the Santans swept the Mussulmans away. The Mussulmans found the infantry of Bhavananda behind them and Mohendra’s guns in front. Then Hay Sahib’s total destruction set in. Nothing stood that test; strength, courage, heroism, tactics, training, pride all were of no use. The troops imperial, of the Fouzdar, the British, Indian, black and white all lay on the ground. The irreligious bands of Heathens fled. With the cry “Kill — kill!” Jivananda, Dhirananda pursued the impious hordes. The Santans snatched away their guns. Many British and Indian troops were killed. Facing every possibility of total destruction Captain Hay and Watson sent word to Bhavananda, “We are all willing to be your prisoners, don’t destroy human life anymore.” Jivananda looked at Bhavananda. Bhavananda said to himself, “That won’t do, I have got to die today.” Then Bhavananda raising his hands and uttering the name of Hari cried out in aloud voice, “Kill! kill!”

Not a single man escaped. At last at one spot twenty to thirty Britishers gathered and deciding to give themselves up fought on desperately. Jivananda said, “Bhavananda, we have become victorious, no use fighting any more, except this handful no one else is alive, let them go and let us return.” Bhavananda said, “So long as a single man is alive Bhavananda will not return. Jivananda, upon God, I request you to stand aside and watch me kill these Englishmen single handed.”

Captain Thomas was tied hand and foot on a horse. Bhavananda ordered, “Place that fellow in front of me, first he will die, only then will come my turn.”

Captain Thomas understood Bengali, grasping the trend of what was said he cried out to the English soldiers present there, “Englishmen! I am as good as dead. You must preserve the honour of old England unsullied. Upon Christ, I tell you to kill me first and then kill these rebels.”

A bullet whistled by, an Irishman having aimed at Captain Thomas and fired. Hit on his forehead Captain Thomas fell dead. Then Bhavananda called out, “My chief weapon of offence has failed. Are there any heroes like Bhima, Nakula and Sahadeva who will protect me? Look, like tigers wounded with arrows British soldiers are turning on me. I have come to die, is there any Santan here who is willing to die with me?”

First Dhirananda came forward, then followed Jivananda. Then came ten, fifteen, twenty, fifty Santans. Seeing Dhirananda Bhavananda asked, “You too come to die with us?”

Dhirananda: “Why, is dying anyone’s monopoly?” Saying this Dhirananda wounded a British soldier.

Bhavananda: It’s not that. But if you die you cannot expect to look at the dear faces of your wife and children and so spend your days in happiness!

Dhirananda: You are talking of yesterday. Have you not understood yet?

Dhirananda killed the wounded Britisher.

Bhavananda said, “No.”

At this moment Bhavananda’s right hand was cut off by a British soldier.

Dhirananda: How could I utter such things before you who are so pure-hearted. I went to you as a spy from Satyananda.

Bhavananda: What? Maharaja has lost his confidence in me?

Bhavananda was then fighting with his remaining hand. Dhirananda went on protecting him and said, “He had heard with his own ears your conversation with Kalyani.”

Bhavananda: How?

Dhirananda: He was himself present there — Take care! (Being wounded by an Englishman Bhavananda returned his blow) — He was teaching Geeta to Kalyani when you appeared. Take care! (Bhavananda’s left hand was severed).

Bhavananda: Please convey to him the news of my death. Tell him, I was not faithless.

Dhirananda fighting all the time said with tearful eyes, “He knows that. Remember the words of blessing uttered last night. Moreover he told me, “Remain near Bhavananda, he will die today. At the moment of his death, tell him, I am blessing him. In the other world he will reach heaven.”

Bhavananda said, “Brother, may victory come to the Santans. At the time of my death sing ‘Hail Mother’!”

Then ordered by Dhirananda all the Santans mad with lust of battle sang forcefully “Hail Mother!” That increased the strength in their arms twofold. At that terrible moment all the white men were killed. The battle field became quiet.

Just then with ‘Hail Mother’ on his lips and meditating on the feet of Vishnu Bhavananda died.

Fie! beauty and charm, of woman! You are accursed in this world.