38b: The Destruction of the Sakyans

The Story of Viṭaṭūbha

Prince Pasenadi, son of King Mahā Kosala of Sāvatthī, Prince Mahā Licchavī, son of King Licchavī of Vesalī, and Prince Bandhula, son of King Malla of Kusinārā were on their way to Takkasilā to get their education under a famous teacher there, and met at a rest house outside the city. They introduced themselves, learned one another’s names, parentage and clan, and also the purpose of their journey, and they became friends. After having completed their education under the guidance of a great teacher in due time, they bid farewell to the teacher and left Takkasilā together and returned to their respective homes.

Of these three princes, Prince Pasenadi demonstrated his prowess and skill before his royal father, King Mahā Kosala, who was so pleased with his son’s capabilities that he anointed him king and so the prince became King Pasenadi of Kosala.

Prince Mahāli of the Licchavīs also demonstrated his prowess and skill before the Licchavīs so arduously that both of his eyes went blind. The Licchavī princes felt very sorry at the fate of their teacher Prince Mahāli and conferred among themselves to afford suitable status to him without abandoning him. They unanimously resolved to name him as lord of a certain toll gate which had a yearly revenue of 100,000 pieces of silver. Prince Mahāli lived on the revenues collected at the toll gate and took charge of educating and training the 500 Licchavī princes.

When Prince Bandhula demonstrated his prowess and skill before the Mallas he was tricked by someone; an iron rod was secretly concealed inside one of the bamboos which he was to cut with his sword. There were 60 bundles of 60 bamboos each standing before him. His royal father commanded: “Now son, cut these bamboos with your sword,” by way of testing the prince’s might. Prince Bandhula leapt up to a height of 80 cubits and cut down the 60 bundles of bamboos one by one. At the last bundle he noticed a strange frictional noise from inside the bamboo which had the concealed iron rod inside.

Discovering the nature of the dirty trick played upon him, he threw away his sword and wailed: “Oh, there was not a single one out of this big crowd of my kinsmen and friends who would, out of kind regard for me, warn me of this trick. Had I been forewarned, I could very well have cut that iron rod too without letting it betray its presence there by its noise.” Then he said to his royal parents: “I shall kill all the Malla princes and make myself king.” To this the parents replied: “Dear son, it is a time-honoured tradition with us Mallas to rule by turns. We do not approve of your idea.” On being repeatedly refused approval, Prince Bandhula became frustrated and said: “Then I will go and live with my friend King Pasenadi of Kosala,” and he went to Sāvatthī.

When King Pasenadi of Kosala learned of the arrival of his friend Prince Bandhula, he went out to greet him and escorted him into the city with much pomp and honour. King Pasenadi of Kosala made Bandhula his commander-in-chief and Bandhula sent for his royal parents and let then live in Sāvatthī. This is an account of the three princes: Prince Pasenadi, Prince Mahāli of the Licchavīs, and Prince Bandhula of the Mallas.

King Pasenadi of Kosala

One day, King Pasenadi of Kosala was standing on an upper floor of his multi-gabled palace, looking towards the high road in the city when he saw thousands of monastics going to the houses of Anāthapiṇḍika, the rich man; Cūḷa Anāthapiṇḍika, the rich man; Visākhā, the supporter of the Pupphārāma monastery; and Suppavāsā, the rich man’s wife, to [917] collect alms food. He asked his men where these monastics were going and they reported to him that 2,000 monastics daily collected their alms food: daily food, ticket food, ^{Specially arranged food offering given at the donor’s home.} or sick-monastic’s food at the house of Anāthapiṇḍika; and 500 each at the houses of Cūḷa Anāthapiṇḍika, Visākhā and Suppavāsā. The King was impressed. He also wanted to be a regular supporter of alms food to the Saṅgha. He went to the Jetavana monastery and invited the Buddha and 1,000 monastics to the palace and offered food for seven days where he personally served the food. On the seventh day, he said to the Buddha: “Venerable sir, may the Fortunate One and 500 monastics come to the palace to receive our food offerings every day.” The Buddha replied: “Great King, it is not the custom of Buddhas to receive alms food from the same supporter every day. People like to see the Buddha visit their home too.”

“In that case, venerable sir, may the Fortunate One let one regular monastic, together with 500 other monastics, come to the palace for daily alms food offering.” The Buddha assigned Ven. Ānanda to head 500 monastics to go to the palace for the daily alms food.

The King attended to the offering of food to the monastics personally for seven days without assigning these duties to anyone. On the eighth day, he was preoccupied with state affairs and forgot to offer alms food to the Saṅgha.

As it was not the custom in the royal palace to carry out anything without orders, the attendants just provided seats to the monastics but no offering of food took place for lack of orders. Many of the monastics were disappointed and left, after saying: “We cannot remain here.” On the next day also, the King forgot to feed the Saṅgha and many of the monastics left the palace. On the third day also, the same thing happened and all the monastics left and only Ven. Ānanda remained.

Noble ones endowed with great past merits take things with wise circumspection. They foster the lay supporters’ faith in the teaching. There are certain disciples of the Buddha beginning with Ven. Sāriputta and Ven. Mahā Moggallāna who were two chief disciples; Ven. Khemā and Ven. Uppalavaṇṇā who were the two chief female disciples; Citta, the rich man, and Prince Hatthaka Āḷavaka who were two foremost lay disciples; and Nandamātā, wife of the rich man of Veḷukaṇṭhakī; and lady Khujjuttarā who were two foremost female lay disciples who were acclaimed by the Buddha as foremost in their own right, and were endowed with the ten perfections (pāramī) to a certain extent and were, therefore, noble persons of great past merit, blessed with their previous aspirations. Ven. Ānanda also had fulfilled the ten perfections over 100,000 aeons (kappa) and was a noble one of great past merit, blessed with previous aspirations. He was circumspect by nature. So, being desirous of fostering the faith of the supporters, he alone remained in the palace for the daily food-offerings.

The palace officials prepared a suitable place and made food offerings to the sole monastic, Ven. Ānanda. King Pasenadi of Kosala came to the palace after every other monastic had left the palace. On seeing the food for the Saṅgha left untouched, the King asked: “Have the revered ones not come?” and the officials replied that only Ven. Ānanda came. The King was angry because he felt that the monastics had let such a big amount of food go to waste. He went to see the Buddha and complained: “Venerable sir, I had prepared food offerings for 500 monastics but only Ven. Ānanda came. All the food remains untouched. How is it, venerable sir, that those monastics have such disregard for our invitation to the palace?”

Thereupon, the Buddha did not say anything against the monastics but said: “Great King, these monastic disciples are not very well acquainted with you. Probably that is why they did not go to your palace.” On that occasion, the Buddha presented a discourse to the monastics, the Discourse about Families (Kula-sutta, AN 9.17), setting out nine reasons for monastics that make it not proper to go to the lay supporters, and nine reasons that make it proper to go to the lay supporters. [918]

The Discourse about Families

“Monastics, homes of lay supporters who come under these nine conditions should not be visited by monastics, if they have never been there, or if they happen to be there already, they should not stay there. Now, these are the nine improper conditions:

Monastics, homes of lay supporters who are of the above nine improper conditions should not be visited by monastics, if they have never been there; and if a monastic happens to be at such a home already, he should not stay there.

Monastics, homes of lay supporters who come under nine conditions ought to be visited by monastics if they have never been there, and if they happen to be there already, they should stay there. Now, these are the nine proper conditions:

Monastics, lay supporters who have the above nine proper conditions should be visited by monastics if they have never been there and if a monastic happens to be at such a house, he should stay there.

Great King, those monastics left you probably because they are not on intimate terms with you. Wise ones of the past are known to have gone to their intimate ones in times of serious illness, near unto death, although they were respectfully looked after by people not intimate to them.” On being requested by King Pasenadi of Kosala to tell that story, the Buddha related to him the Birth Story about the Ascetic Kesava (Kesava-jātaka, Ja 346).

After hearing the Buddha’s discourse, King Pasenadi of Kosala saw the need to become intimate with the Saṅgha and thought of some way to fulfil this aim. He struck on the idea of marrying one of the Sakyan princesses. “If I were to raise a Sakyan Princess to the status of Chief Queen,” he thought, “the Fortunate One would become my relation and his disciples would consider me as an intimate.” Thereupon, he sent an ultimatum to the Sakyan princes demanding the hand of a Sakyan princess in marriage to him. When the royal messengers charged with the mission asked: “Which princess, the daughter of which Sakyan prince, did his majesty specify?” The King said: “Any Sakyan princess would do, provided her ancestry is ascertained by you.” [919]

At the city of Kapilavatthu, the Sakyans held a council to answer the ultimatum. They did not like to go to war with their rival kingdom, for if they refused to comply with King Pasenadi’s demand their kingdom would certainly be invaded. Since the Kosala were a different clan from the Sakyans, they could not give in marriage anyone of their own kin to a non-Sakyan. It was Prince Mahānāma the Sakyan who conceived a way out of the dilemma. “I have a very beautiful girl born of one of my slaves named Nāgamuṇḍā; the girl is called Vāsabhā Khattiyā. Let us give her away.” They agreed. A formal reply was then given to the delegation from Kosala: “We shall comply.” – “The daughter of which Sakyan Prince are you going to give?” – “It is the daughter of Mahānāma, the Sakyan Prince, cousin of Buddha Gotama, son of Amitodāna. Vāsabhā Khattiyā is the name of the princess.”

The delegation returned to Sāvatthī with the favourable news. King Pasenadi of Kosala was pleased and said: “Go and bring the Sakyan Princess without delay. But mark this: kings as a rule are crafty. A slave’s daughter might be posed as a princess. So you must ascertain her genuineness by watching her at table, make sure she eats together with her Sakyan father.”

The delegation went again to Kapilavatthu and announced: “Our King of Kosala will accept only a princess who eats together with you Sakyans.” – “Very well, friends,” said Mahānāma the Sakyan. When it was meal time, Vāsabhā Khattiyā, fully attired and adorned as a princess, was brought to the dining table where Mahānāma the Sakyan was sitting, and there it was made to appear that the two ate together. The delegation was satisfied with what they saw and returned to Sāvatthī with the girl.

Back at their capital, the delegation reported to the king what they had witnessed. King Pasenadi of Kosala was delighted. After the customary anointing ceremony he made Vāsabhā Khattiyā, the Chief Queen, and she was waited on by 500 court ladies. Not long afterwards, the Chief Queen, who became very dear to the king, gave birth to a son with golden complexion.

When it was time for the young prince to be named, the Kosalan King sent a royal message to the royal grandfather Mahānāma, the Sakyan, informing him of the birth of a son and asking him to suggest a suitable name for the princeling. It so happened that the messenger who took the royal message to the Sakyan court was slightly hard of hearing. After reading the Kosalan King’s message, Mahānāma remarked: “Vāsabhā Khattiyā was previously a girl of great personal influence. And now after giving birth to a son she is going to be a favourite (vallabhā) of the Kosalan King!” Now, the joyous expression favourite, i.e., an intimate darling, vallabhā in the local dialect, sounded as viṭaṭūbha to the Kosalan messenger who took that word as the name to be given to the Kosalan Prince. He reported to King Pasenadi of Kosala: “Viṭaṭūbha is the name, your majesty, that the royal grandfather suggests for the princeling.” The King mused: “Possibly, Viṭaṭūbha is a clan name of yore with us,” and he named his son Viṭaṭūbha. Then with a view to pleasing the Buddha, the King made Viṭaṭūbha, commander in-chief, even in his tender age.

Viṭaṭūbha was brought up as a prince in all regal style. When he was seven years old, he came to notice how other princes were receiving dolls and other children got presents from their maternal grandparents and so he asked his mother, Chief Queen Vāsabhā Khattiyā: “Mother, other princes get children’s presents, such as dolls and the like, from their [920] maternal grandparents. But I have received none from my maternal grandparents. Why is it? Have you no parents?” The mother replied: “Dear son, the Sakyans are your maternal grandparents. But they live far away from us. That is why they cannot send you any gifts.”

When Viṭaṭūbha was sixteen, he said to his mother: “Mother, I would like to see my maternal grandparent’s palace.” And the mother discouraged him with the words: “Dear son, it is not advisable for you to do that. After all, what use is there in your seeing your maternal grandparent’s palace?” But Prince Viṭaṭūbha was insistent and after many repeated requests, the mother could do nothing but yield to his wish.

Viṭaṭūbha informed his father, the king, of his intended journey and left Sāvatthī, leading a big army. Chief Queen Vāsabhā Khattiyā had in the meantime sent a secret message to the Sakyans asking them to keep up appearances when Viṭaṭūbha arrived so that the whole conspiracy would not in any way be betrayed. This message gave the timely opportunity for the younger Sakyan princes, i.e., who were junior to Viṭaṭūbha to leave the city and remain in the remote country during his visit because they could not make obeisance to Viṭaṭūbha as would be normally expected. Those Sakyans, who were to receive Viṭaṭūbha, met him on arrival at Kapilavatthu, at the royal rest house.

There Viṭaṭūbha was introduced to his maternal grandfather and maternal uncles to whom he had to make obeisance. Having done his turn of paying respects, he saw no one paying him respects. “Why is there no Sakyan to pay respects to me?” he asked. The Sakyan elders then said: “Dear son, your younger cousins have gone on a visit to the country.” Then they entertained Viṭaṭūbha lavishly.

After staying two or three days in Kapilavatthu, Viṭaṭūbha left the city with his big army. When every visitor had gone, a slave girl came to cleanse with diluted milk the seat where Viṭaṭūbha had sat at the royal rest house, all the while cursing: “Fie! Profaned is this place, profaned by Viṭaṭūbha, the son of the slave girl Vāsabhā Khattiyā.” These words were overheard by one of Viṭaṭūbha’s men who had come back to the place to fetch his arms that he had forgotten to take away with him. He asked how far the girl’s curse was true and was told that Vāsabhā Khattiyā was the child born of Mahānāma the Sakyan and his slave girl Nāgamuṇḍā. The Kosala soldier related this news to his comrades and it soon became the talk of the town that the Chief Queen Vāsabhā Khattiyā was a daughter of a slave girl.

When Viṭaṭūbha learned this news, he was quick to understand the situation. “Well, let the Sakyans cleanse my seat with diluted milk now, when I become king, I will wash my seat with the blood from the Sakyan’s throats!” he said to himself, bearing an ominous grudge against the Sakyan clan.

After arriving back at the capital, the king’s ministers reported the news to the king. King Pasenadi of Kosala was very angry with the Sakyans. “This presenting a slave girl for my queen is preposterous; it is an insult against my honour!” he roared and withdrew all the rank and status accorded to his Chief Queen and commander-in-chief, allowing them only the rank and status of slaves.

Two or three days later, the Buddha paid a visit to the royal palace of King Pasenadi of Kosala where he sat on the specially arranged seat. The king made his obeisance to the Buddha and said to him: “Venerable sir, the kinsmen of the Fortunate One have deceived me. They have sent me a slave girl’s daughter, saying that she was a princess. I have discovered this and have therefore downgraded both mother, Vāsabhā Khattiyā, and son, Viṭaṭūbha, to the rank and status of slaves.”

The Buddha said: “Great King, the Sakyans have done a wrong thing, they ought to have given you a princess as befitting your lineage. However, Great King, I wish you to consider this: Vāsabhā Khattiyā was a daughter of Mahānāma the Sakyan; and moreover she has been anointed as Chief Queen by you who are of royal blood. Viṭaṭūbha is of your own blood. What does maternal lineage matter? It is paternal lineage that counts. This important fact was recognized by wise people of past and therefore, a firewood-gatherer, a poor peasant girl, was made the Chief Queen, and the boy born of this Chief Queen of humble origin became King Kaṭṭhavāhana of Bārāṇasī, a city with an area of twelve leagues.” [921]

When King Pasenadi of Kosala had heard the story of Kaṭṭhavāhana, he was satisfied with the dictum that only paternal lineage is of real significance. Accordingly he reinstated the Chief Queen and the commander-in-chief to their previous ranks and status.

Bandhula and His Wife Mallikā

The commander-in-chief of King Pasenadi of Kosala was Bandhula, a Malla Prince. His wife Mallikā was the daughter of King Malla of Kusinārā. Even after some years of wedlock, the couple did not beget any offspring. Bandhula therefore sent Mallikā to her father’s home. Mallikā thought that it would be well if she visited the Buddha before leaving Sāvatthī. So, she went to the Jetavana monastery and made obeisance to the Buddha. On being asked where she was going, Mallikā told the Buddha how she was being sent home to her father because she failed to produce any children. Thereupon, the Buddha said: “In that case there is no need for you to go home to your father. You should go back to the home of the commander-in-chief.” Mallikā was very happy with these words and, making her obeisance to the Buddha, she went back to her husband. Bandhula asked her why she had come back. She told him what the Buddha had said to her. Bandhula pondered: “The Fortunate One is far-sighted. He must have fore-knowledge about Mallikā’s probable pregnancy.” And so he let her stay with him.

Not long afterwards, Mallikā became pregnant. She had an intense craving as is often the case with pregnant women. She told her husband about it. She wanted to bathe in the auspicious royal lake where the Licchavīs usually were anointed king and she also wanted to drink its water. Bandhula said: “Very well,” and putting her on his chariot and, taking his great bow that needed 1,000 men to harness it, they left Sāvatthī and entered Vesālī from the city gate assigned to Mahā Licchavī for the enjoyment of tolls collected at that gate. Mahā Licchavī’s house was just close by.

Mahā Licchavī recognized the sound of Bandhula’s chariot thumping on the threshold of the city gate. He had great foreboding: “Disaster is afoot today for the Licchavīs,” and he warned them. The auspicious royal lake was very heavily guarded, inside as well as outside. It was covered with iron netting so that even birds could not gain entry to it.

Bandhula, the commander-in-chief, alighted from his chariot, drove away the guards with his cane and cut open the iron netting with his scimitar. He and his wife entered the lake, bathed there and, coolly putting her in the chariot, headed home by the same route that he had come.

The guards reported the matter to the Vajjī princes. Infuriated, the Vajjis mounted on 500 chariots and gave chase. When the chase was reported to Mahā Licchavī, he called out: “Young Licchavī princes, don’t do that! Bandhula, the commander-in-chief will destroy you.” To that the princes replied: “Sir, we cannot stand it. We must catch him!”

Mahā Licchavī had known the might of his schoolmate, Bandhula, and warned the Vajjī princes thus: “Well, princes, if you must give chase, when you see Bandhula’s chariot depressed down to the wheel hub, turn back from wherever you saw it. If you don’t turn back, but still pursue him, do turn back when you hear a great roaring sound. If you don’t turn back, but still pursue him, you will see holes at the front of each of your chariots. Turn back wherever you see these holes, don’t go any further.”

The Licchavī’s ignored the advice and proceeded in hot pursuit. When Mallikā saw they were being pursued, she told Bandhula what she saw. “Well, watch well. When all the 500 chariots are seen as one, when they all are in a straight line, do tell me!” he said. Mallikā informed her husband when the pursuing chariots were seen as a single line. Then Bandhula, the commander-in-chief, gave the reins of the horse to her saying: “You hold them!” Then he stood in the chariot and drew his great bow that needed 1,000 strong men to draw it. At that moment, the chariot sank to the level of the wheel [922] hub. The Licchavīs saw this but did not heed Mahā Licchavī’s warning and drove on. Bandhula, as the commander-in-chief, after proceeding a while, pulled at the bow string producing a thunderous sound. The Licchavīs heard it but did not heed Mahā Licchavī’s warning and did not turn back. Then Bandhula sent an arrow which pierced through all the 500 pursuing chariots, it passed through the chest of the Licchavī princes and struck the ground.

The Licchavī princes were still unaware that they had been shot and cried: “Hey, Bandhula, stop!” all the while still following Bandhula. Then Bandhula, the commander-in-chief, halted a while and said: “All of you Licchavīs are dead men. I need not fight with dead men!” – “But we do not look like dead men, do we?” – “Then take off the mail armour from the last Licchavī Prince.”

When they did as they were told, the lifeless body of the rearmost Licchavī Prince dropped to the floor of the chariot. Then Bandhula told them to drive home and prepare for the funeral of all of them. “Before taking off your mail armour, you may say your last word to your wives,” he added. The Licchavīs did as they were told. All of them perished.

Bandhula the commander-in-chief drove back home with his wife Mallikā. She bore him twin sons sixteen times so that the couple had 32 robust sons, all brave and strong. They had their training completed in all the arts when they were allotted 1,000 men each as their followers. Whenever Bandhula, the commander-in-chief, appeared in court, he and his 32 sons, together with 32,000 strong warriors would fill the whole courtyard.

Bandhula is Murdered

One day, there arose an uproar at the court of justice complaining that a miscarriage of justice had taken place. The matter was reported to Bandhula, the commander-in-chief, who then went to the court of justice, heard the case afresh, and passed judgment, declaring who the rightful owner was. The people joined in their loud approval of the righteous judgment.

King Pasenadi of Kosala heard the sound and asked what it was. On being told about it, the king was very pleased and placed him in charge of the court of justice; the former justices were all removed from service. Bandhula thus got an additional duty as judge which he discharged with uprightness.

The disgraced judges, being deprived of their usual bribes, plotted against Bandhula, the commander-in-chief. They conspired to make false allegations that Bandhula was aspiring to the throne. The king believed the words of the disgraced judges. He was greatly ill at ease. He wanted to do away with Bandhula but since Bandhula was a popular figure he dared not put Bandhula to death in the city. So he invented a wicked ploy. He had his trusted men stage an uprising at the border regions. Bandhula, the commander-in-chief, and his 32 sons were ordered to put down the fake uprising, and to bring back the insurgents. The king sent along his chosen generals with Bandhula, with orders to murder Bandhula and all his sons.

When Bandhula got to the so-called area of unrest, the king’s men inserted themselves as insurgents fled. Bandhula carried out measures to turn the remote region into flourishing settlements, and returned to the city. When they were a good distance away from the city, the captains, who were sent along with them, beheaded Bandhula and his 32 sons.

Mallikā’s Story

On that day, Mallikā, the wife of the commander-in-chief, was preparing to offer a meal to the two chief disciples, Ven. Sāriputta and Ven. Mahā Moggallāna together with 500 monastics at her home. Early that morning, she had received a message that her husband Bandhula, the commander-in-chief, and her 32 sons had been beheaded. She kept the news to herself, having slipped the note containing the message inside her jacket. While she was attending on the two chief disciples at table, her maids, after having offered rice, were bringing ghee to the table, when they accidentally broke the vessel containing ghee. The two chief disciples witnessed this. Ven. Sāriputta asked Mallikā: “What has the nature of breaking up, has broken up. Don’t let it prey on [923] your mind.” Thereupon, Mallikā produced the grim message from inside her jacket and said: “Venerable sir, they sent me this message to tell me that my 32 sons, together with their father, have been beheaded. Even that news I did not allow to prey on my mind; how would this pot of ghee prey on my mind?”

Ven. Sāriputta gave a discourse beginning with the verse (Salla-sutta, Snp. 3.8): Animittam-anaññātaṁ maccānaṁ idha jīvitaṁ, “unsignalled and unknown here is the life of mortals.” Then he rose from his seat and returned to the Jetavana monastery.

When the offering of food to the Saṅgha was finished Mallikā sent for her 32 daughters-in-law and said: “Dear daughters-in-law, your husbands, though faultless, have suffered the consequence of their past deeds. Do not be oppressed by sorrow, grief and lamentation. Also do not bear malice against the king.” These words were overheard by the king’s secret agents who reported to the king that Bandhula and his sons were free of guilt. The king was remorseful. He went to Mallikā’s house and apologized to Mallikā and her 32 daughters-in-law. Then he asked Mallikā to name any boon she would like.

Mallikā said: “Great King, let the boon be considered as having been granted to me.” After the king had returned, she offered special alms food to the Saṅgha for the benefit of her dear departed ones. Then she took her bath and went to see the king. She bowed before the king and said: “Great King, you have granted me leave to name a boon. I have no other wish than your permission to allow me and my 32 daughters-in-law to return to our respective parents.” The king gave his assent gladly. Mallikā sent home her 32 daughters-in-law to their respective parents’ homes and she herself returned to hers.

Mallikā lived in her parents’ home in Kusinārā for a long time. Later, when the Buddha passed away and she learned that his remains were being carried to Kusinārā by the Mallas, she got the idea to honour the Buddha by adorning the Buddha’s body with the famous Great Creeper (Mahā-latā) gown which she had not worn since the death of her husband. She took it out from its place, cleaned it with perfumed water and awaited the arrival of the Buddha’s remains.

The Great Creeper gown was a very rare piece of adornment which only three persons had the good fortune to possess. According to the commentary on the Long Discourse about the Emancipation (Mahā-parinibbāna-sutta, DN 16), that was: Visākhā; Mallikā, wife of Bandhula, the commander-in-chief; and the daughter of a rich man of Bārāṇasī, Devadāniyā the thief; according to the commentary on the Dhamma Verses (Dhammapada, Dhp 53) it was possessed only by these three ladies in the whole human world.

When the remains of the Buddha were being carried past her house, she requested the carriers of the bier: “Please! Please wait a moment,” and she respectfully encased the Buddha’s body in the Great Creeper gown which covered the body neatly from head to sole. The golden-hued body of the Buddha, clothed in the great gown, wrought with the seven kinds of gems made a gorgeous spectacle.

Mallikā’s mind was filled with delight in seeing the magnificence of the Buddha’s body. Her conviction in the Three Treasures soared. She made this wish: “Exalted Buddha! May I, in my faring on in this journey in Saṁsāra, be always perfect in my personal appearance even without the need to embellish myself.”

After she passed away, Mallikā was reborn as a celestial being in the Tāvatiṁsa Realm. On account of her wish she was endowed with unrivalled beauty. She had a dress magnificently finished with the seven kinds of gems and also a mansion of like description see the commentary to Mallikā’s Heavenly Mansion (Mallikā-vimāna, Vv. 658-663).

The Passing of King Pasenadi

King Pasenadi of Kosala let the nephew of Bandhula, named Dīghakārāyana, succeed him as commander-in-chief. This token of his high regard for Bandhula did not, however, appease the nephew who kept awaiting his opportunity to revenge the death of his innocent [924] uncle.

The king was never happy again after the assassination of the innocent Bandhula. A feeling of guilt possessed him, so much so that he did not find pleasure in his kingly luxuries. At that time, the Buddha was sojourning at the market town of Medāḷupa, in the province of the Sakyans. The King of Kosala, wishing to see the Buddha, put up a rustic tent built of branches of trees in the vicinity of the Buddha’s monastery and stayed there. Leaving the regal paraphernalia with the commander-in-chief Dīghakārāyana there he entered the Buddha’s chamber alone.

As the Kosalan King went alone to the Buddha’s monastery, Dīghakārāyana felt uneasy with the thought: “This king had previously had private conference with Gotama the recluse,” after which my uncle Bandhula and his 32 sons were assassinated; now he is again in conference with Gotama the recluse. What might this mean? Might I be the target this time?”

As soon as the king had entered the Buddha’s chamber, Dīghakārāyana, the commander-in-chief, took the regal paraphernalia to Viṭaṭūbha, cajoled and coerced Viṭaṭūbha to accept kingship then and there. Then he left a charger, a scimitar and a royal maid for Pasenadi of Kosala with a note saying: “Do not come after us if you wish to stay alive!” After that he took Prince Viṭaṭūbha to the palace in Sāvatthī as the new king with the white umbrella held above him.

When the Kosalan King came out of the monastery after having cordial conversation with the Buddha, he saw none of his army, so he asked his maid, who told him what she heard and saw. Thereupon, he headed for Rājagaha to muster help from his royal nephew, King Ajātasattu with the object of deposing Viṭaṭūbha the usurper. On his way, he had to make do with a meal of broken rice and to drink unfiltered water. As he was of a delicate constitution, that food proved indigestible for him. It was late in the evening when he got to the city of Rājagaha. The city gates were already closed. So he had to spend the night at a rest house outside the city, intending to see his nephew King Ajātasattu the next morning.

That night, the Kosalan King suffered from indigestion due to the upset condition of his phlegm, bile and wind. He could answer the call of nature only two or three times before he became totally exhausted. He slept on the bosom of the young maid who was his sole company. He died at dawn the next day.

When the young maid found that the king had passed away, she wailed loudly: “My Lord, the Kosalan King, who had ruled over the two provinces of Kāsi and Kosala, had died uncared for outside the city in this rest house where the homeless make it their home.” On hearing her lamentation people came to know about the death of the Kosalan King. They reported it to King Ajātasattu who came out and saw his dead uncle. He arranged for a fitting funeral with much ceremony. Then he mustered his troops by the beat of the gong, intending to capture Viṭaṭūbha.

The ministers of King Ajātasattu pleaded at his feet, saying: “Great King, if your royal uncle, the Kosalan King, were alive, your visit to Sāvatthī would be proper. But now that Viṭaṭūbha, your younger cousin, is on the throne, and he had also a right through kinship to the throne, your expedition is not advisable.” Ajātasattu accepted the ministers’ advice.

King Viṭaṭūbha Remembers his Grudge

King Viṭaṭūbha, after ascending the throne at Sāvatthī, remembered his grudge against the Sakyans. He left the city at the head of a big army to make war against and destroy the Sakyans. Early in the morning, the Buddha viewed the world of beings with his Buddha-eye [925] and saw that danger was imminent for his kinsmen the Sakyans. He thought it right and proper to protect them. So after going on alms round, he took a rest in his scented chamber in a noble resting posture like a lion, lying on his right side. In the evening he went to Kapilavatthu by his psychic power and reappeared sitting at the foot of a tree with bare branches in the vicinity of the city of Kapilavatthu.

Not far away from that tree there was a shady banyan tree near the boundary between Kapilavatthu and Viṭaṭūbha’s country. When Viṭaṭūbha saw the Buddha, he made obeisance to him and said: “Venerable sir, how is it that the Fortunate One is sitting underneath this skeleton of a tree when it is still hot? May you come and sit underneath a shady banyan tree which is near our boundary.” The Buddha replied: “Great King, so be it. Shelter provided by kinsman is cool enough.” Viṭaṭūbha was not slow to take the hint. He surmised rightly that the Buddha was there to give his benign protection to his kinsmen. So he withdrew his forces after respectfully making obeisance to him. The Buddha reappeared in the Jetavana monastery by his psychic power.

But Viṭaṭūbha did not forget the insult he had suffered at the hands of the Sakyans. He took out another expedition against the Sakyan city. On this occasion too the Buddha was there and he was obliged to withdraw. For the third time he led a mighty force towards the Sakyan territory, only to meet with the Buddha before he could start operations and again he had to withdraw.

When King Viṭaṭūbha set out for the fourth time the Buddha saw that the time for the evil misdeeds of the Sakyan was taking effect and so he did not intervene. The past misdeeds of the Sakyans consisted in spreading poison in a stream on a certain day in their previous existence.

Viṭaṭūbha came with a big army intent on destroying the Sakyans. The Buddha’s kinsmen, on the other hand, were averse to taking life, they would rather give up their own life than destroy life. They knew that they were past masters in archery, so they thought of frightening away the enemy by their feats in archery. They put on mail armour and came out pretending to join battle. They sent arrows into the enemy which did not hit anyone but passed through their shields or through holes in their ear lobes which had been pierced while young for wearing earrings.

When Viṭaṭūbha saw the arrows, he thought that the Sakyans were shooting them in earnest. “They say the Sakyans don’t destroy life,” he said, “but now they are trying to kill us with their arrows!” One of his men said: “Lord, inspect your forces and you will know.” – “The arrows come in the direction of our men.” – “But there is no one hit on this side, Great King, would your majesty make a count of your men,” replied the man boldly. The king ordered to make a count and found that no one had fallen.

Viṭaṭūbha withdrew his forces a little and ordered his men: “Men, slay all those who say they are Sakyan. But spare my grandfather Mahānāma and those who are together with him. Thereupon Viṭaṭūbha’s forces made a dash for the kill. The Sakyans did not see anything to hold on to. Some of them stood holding on to tufts of grass while others stood holding on to clusters of reed. When asked by the enemy: “Are you not Sakyan?” these Sakyans did not and could not utter a lie, those Sakyan holding on to the grass replied: “These are not Sāka (teak trees), but only grass,” and those Sakyans holding on to the reeds replied: “These are not Sāka (teak trees), but only reed.” Those Sakyans and Mahānāma together with the Sakyans that remained together with him were spared. Those who held onto the grass later came to be known as Grass Sakyans, and those who held onto the reeds as Reed Sakyans. All other Sakyans were put to the sword, not even infants were allowed to live. Viṭaṭūbha then cleansed his seat with the enemy’s blood drawn from their throats. Thus was the Sakyan clan exterminated by Viṭaṭūbha.

Mahānāma the Sakyan was captured alive. On his way to Viṭaṭūbha’s country, when it was time for the morning meal, they dismounted and the table was laid; Viṭaṭūbha informed [926] Mahānāma to join him. Persons of royal blood as a rule never share a meal with sons of a slave. Mahānāma therefore, noticing a pond nearly, said: “Grandson, I need to wash up before I eat.” – “Then, grandfather, take a bath,” replied Viṭaṭūbha.

Mahānāma knew that if he refused to eat with Viṭaṭūbha, he would be put to the sword. “It were better to take my own life,” he reflected. So he untied his coil of hair, made a knot at the end of his hair which was spread out, and putting both his big toes together inside the hair, he dived into the water. Mahānāma was possessed of such merit that his presence underneath the water caused warmth in the realm of the Nāgas. The King of the Nāgas looked for the strange phenomenon that was warming his abode and on seeing the plight of Mahānāma, he appeared before him and letting him sit on his hood, carried him down to the realm of the Nāgas where Mahānāma survived for twelve years.

Viṭaṭūbha Meets His Fate

King Viṭaṭūbha was left waiting for the return of his royal grandfather. “He should be back any time,” he kept on saying to himself. When he had waited rather too long, he thought: “Something is wrong,” and he had his men wade into the water, dive into it, and search around the pond. As it was already dark, he sent his men all around to search any possible nook and corner with oil lamps. When he had left no stone unturned, he gave up the search at that locality, assuming his grandfather must have fled from him, he and his army left the place.

He arrived at the river Aciravatī at nightfall and it was too late to enter the city. So he and his army had to camp on the river bank for the night. Some of his men lay on the sandbank to rest while others lay on higher ground. Among the first group there were some who had not committed evil deeds in the past; among the second group there were some who had done evil deeds in the past. It so happened that to both groups, swarms of white ants made their stay impossible. They were driven to seek fresh quarter for the night. Those who had done no bad actions in the past, who were lying on the sand bank, therefore found it necessary to move to high ground; those who had done bad actions in the past, who were lying on high ground, found it necessary to move to the sand bank.

After the people had made these shifting of locations, there arose black rain clouds and all of a sudden there was a deluge that caused the Aciravatī to burst its banks. Viṭaṭūbha and his army were carried away in the floods down to the ocean where they were devoured by fishes and turtles.

The Past Evil Actions of the Sakyans

The massacre of the Sakyans became a subject of lively talk among the people. “Men,” they would say, “the massacre of the Sakyans was absolutely uncalled for, and the brutality they suffered – even their small children not being spared -– is most improper.” This sort of popular opinion came to the ear of the Buddha, who said: “Monastics, the Sakyans met with a seemingly undeserved fate in their present existence. However, if their present fate is considered against their past evil action, they met the kind of death appropriate to the cause thereof.” The monastics requested the Buddha to relate the nature of their past evil action. And the Buddha briefly related to them, how in a certain existence in the past, they had united themselves in one mind and spread poison into a stream causing mass destruction of fish in it.

Again, the following day, at the assembly of monastics for hearing the teaching, the monastics were discussing the fate of Viṭaṭūbha: “Friends, Viṭaṭūbha together with his company, after slaying such a great number of the Sakyans, became victims of fishes and turtles in the ocean even before achieving his ambition.” When the Buddha came to the assembly and asked the monastics: “Monastics, what was that you were talking about when I came?” They told the Buddha about their subject of discussion. Then the Buddha said: “Monastics, just as all the villagers in a sleeping village are swept away by a great flood, so also, even before their ambitions in life are fulfilled, all living beings who are forgetful and sleeping have their lives cut short and are carried away by death to the ocean of the four lower worlds.” Then the Buddha uttered this verse (Dhp 48): [927]

Pupphāni heva pacinantaṁ, byāsatta-manasaṁ naraṁ;

Atittañ-ñeva kāmesu, antako kurute vasaṁ.

Monastics, like one who gathers the choicest flowers, a person, who hankers after sense-pleasures, craving for what he has not got and clinging to what he has got, is carried away by death and to the ocean of the four lower worlds, just as a whole village that are soundly asleep are swept away to the ocean by a great flood.

By the end of the discourse many beings attained the fruitions such as Stream-entry. This discourse is therefore a very beneficial discourse for all.

The Two Mallikās Differentiated

There were at the time of the Buddha two Mallikās in Sāvatthī, one was Mallikā, wife of Bandhula, the commander-in-chief; the other was Mallikā, Queen of the Kosalan King. The former was a Mallan Princess of Kusinārā about whom we have mentioned earlier. We shall now describe Queen Mallikā in a brief way.

This future queen was daughter of a flower seller in the city of Sāvatthī. She was a maiden of great beauty, with a large store of great past merits. One day, when she was sixteen, she went flower-gathering in the company of other girls, carrying three barley cakes in a flower basket.

As the group of girls were leaving the city, they met the Buddha, surrounded by a wondrous aura of six hues, in the company of many monastics, who was entering the city. Mallikā was deeply moved by the glory of the Buddha and in a state of devotional faith she offered her three barley cakes to the Buddha. The Buddha accepted the alms in the alms bowl which was donated by the four great guardians of the four quarters.

Mallikā paid her obeisance at the feet of the Buddha, with her mind filled with delightful satisfaction (pīti), derived from reflection on the attributes of the Buddha and stood at a suitable distance. The Buddha looked at her and gave a smile. Ven. Ānanda asked the Buddha the reason for his smile. “Ānanda,” said the Buddha, “on account of her offering of these three barley cakes with the volition of the first impulsion this young girl will become the Chief Queen of the Kosalan King this very day.”

Mailikā was overjoyed to hear the words of the Buddha and went to the Park with her companions. It was the day when the King of Kosala fought a battle with his nephew Ajātasattu and was defeated. He escaped on horseback and on hearing the singing of Mallikā, he turned towards the park, being attracted by the girl’s voice. Where all the other girls fled with fear at the sight of the king, Mallikā, who was destined to become queen felt no fear. Instead, she came forward and took the reins of the king’s charger in her hand.

Still sitting on horseback, he asked the girl whether she was married or not. On learning that she was unmarried, he dismounted and as he was tired from the heat of the sun and the wind, he took a rest on Mallikā’s bosom. After having rested, he took the girl on horseback and entered the city accompanied by his army. He had the girl escorted to her parents’ home. That evening, he sent the royal carriage to Mallikā’s house for the use of Chief Queen, and she was brought to the palace with pomp and ceremony. Then placing her on a ceremonial seat wrought with precious gems, she was anointed Chief Queen. From that day, Mallikā became the beloved Chief Queen.