Under the title of “Krisa Gautami” in the collection of “Tibetan Tales
from Indian Sources,” translated by Mr. Ralston from the German of Von
Schiefner, we have what appears to be a very much garbled form of an old
Buddhist version of our story. The heroine is married to a young
merchant, whose father gives him some arable land in a hill district,
where he resides with Krisa Gautami his wife.
When the time came for her to expect her confinement, she obtained leave
of her husband to go to her parents’ house in order that she might have
the attendance of her mother. After her confinement and the naming of
the boy, she returned home. When the time of her second confinement drew
near, she again expressed to her husband a desire to go to her parents.
Her husband set out with her and the boy in a waggon; but by the time
they had gone half way she gave birth to a boy. When the husband saw
that this was to take place, he got out of the waggon, sat under a tree,
and fell asleep. While he was completely overcome by slumber a snake bit
him and he died. When his wife in her turn alighted from the waggon, and
went up to the tree in order to bring him the joyful tidings that a son
was born unto him, he, as he had given up the ghost, made no reply. She
seized him by the hand and found that he was dead. Then she began to
weep. Meantime a thief carried off the oxen. After weeping for a long
time, and becoming very mournful, she looked around on every side,
pressed the new-born babe to her bosom, took the elder child by the
hand, and set out on her way. As a heavy rain had unexpectedly fallen,
all the lakes, ponds, and springs were full of water, and the road was
flooded by the river. She reflected that if she were to cross the water
with both the children at once, she and they might meet with a disaster,
and therefore the children had better be taken over separately. So she
seated the elder boy on the bank of the river, and took the younger one
in her arms, walked across to the other side, and laid him down upon the
bank. Then she went back for the elder boy. But while she was in the
middle of the river, the younger boy was carried off by a jackal. The
elder boy thought that his mother was calling him, and sprang into the
water. The bank was very steep, so he fell down and was killed. The
mother hastened after the jackal, who let the child drop and ran off.
When she looked at it, she found that it was dead. So after she had wept
over it, she threw it into the water. When she saw that the elder was
being carried along by the stream, she became still more distressed. She
hastened after him, and found that he was dead. Bereft of both husband
and children, she gave way to despair, and sat down alone on the bank,
with only the lower part of her body covered. There she listened to the
howling of the wind, the roaring of the forest and of the waves, as well
as the singing of various kinds of birds. Then wandering to and fro,
with sobs and tears of woe, she lamented the loss of her husband and her
two children.
She meets with one of her father’s domestics, who informs her that her
parents and their servants had all been destroyed by a hurricane, and
that “he only had escaped” to tell her the sad tidings. After this she
is married to a weaver, who ill-uses her, and she escapes from him one
night. She attaches herself to some travellers returning from a trading
expedition in the north, and the leader of the caravan takes her for his
wife. The party are attacked by robbers and the leader is killed. She
then becomes the wife of the chief of the robbers, who in his turn finds
death at the hands of the king of that country, and she is placed in his
zenana.
The king died, and she was buried alive in his tomb, after having had
great honour shown to her by the women, the princes, the ministers, and
a vast concourse of people. Some men from the north who were wont to rob
graves broke into this one also. The dust they raised entered into Krisa
Gautami’s nostrils, and made her sneeze. The grave-robbers were
terrified, thinking that she was a demon (_vetála_), and they fled; but
Krisa Gautami escaped from the grave through the opening which they had
made. Conscious of all her troubles, and affected by the want of food,
just as a violent storm arose, she went out of her mind. Covered with
merely her underclothing, her hands and feet foul and rough, with long
locks and pallid complexion, she wandered about until she reached
Sravastí. There, at the sight of Bhagavant, she recovered her intellect.
Bhagavant ordered Ananda to give her an over-robe, and he taught her the
doctrine, and admitted her into the ecclesiastical body, and he
appointed her the chief of the Bhikshunís who had embraced
discipline.[521]
This remarkable story is one of those which reached Europe long anterior
to the Crusades. It is found in the Greek martyr acts, which were
probably composed in the eighth century, where it is told of Saint
Eustache, who was before his baptism a captain of Trajan, named
Placidus, and the same legend reappears, with modifications of the
details, in many mediæval collections and forms the subject of several
romances. In most versions the _motif_ is similar to that of the story
of Job. The following is the outline of the original legend, according
to the Greek martyr acts: