Foreign interference was now found eminently useful, and the declarations of
tolerance which it elicited from the French government, as well as the more
cautious march of the Catholic persecutors, operated as decisive and
involuntary acknowledgments of the importance of that interference,
which some persons at first censured and despised, put through the stern voice of
public opinion in England, and elsewhere produced a resultant suspension of
massacre and pillage, the murderers and plunderers were still left unpunished,
and even caressed and rewarded for their crimes, and whilst Protestants in France
suffered the most cruel and degrading pains and penalties for alleged trifling
crimes, Catholics, covered with blood and guilty of numerous and horrid murders,
were acquitted.
Perhaps the virtuous indignation expressed by some of the more enlightened Catholics
against these abominable proceedings had no small share in restraining them.
Many innocent Protestants had been condemned to the galleys, and otherwise
punished for supposed crimes, upon the oaths of wretches the most unprincipled
and abandoned.
Monsieur Madier de Mongo, judge of the Cour royale of Nîmes, and president of the
Cour d'Assises of the Gardes and Vaucluse, upon one occasion felt himself compelled
to break up the court rather than take the deposition of that notorious and
sanguinary monster, Trofémy.
In a hall, says he, of the Palace of Justice, opposite that in which I sat,
several unfortunate persons persecuted by the faction were upon trial, every
deposition tending to their crimination was applauded with the cries of Vive le
Roi.
Three times the explosion of this atrocious joy became so terrible that it
was necessary to send for reinforcements from the barracks, and two hundred
soldiers were often unable to restrain the people.
On a sudden the shouts and cries of Vive le Roi redoubled.
A man arrived, caressed, applauded, born in triumph.
It was the horrible Trofémy.
He approached the tribunal.
He came to depose against the prisoners.
He was admitted as a witness.
He raised his hand to take the oath.
Seized with horror at the sight, I rushed from my seat and entered the Hall
of Council.
My colleagues followed me.
In vain they persuaded me to resume my seat.
No, exclaimed I, I will not consent to see that wretch admitted to give evidence in a
court of justice, in the city which he has filled with murders, in the palace on the
steps of which he has murdered the unfortunate Bourillon.
I cannot admit that he should kill his victims by his testimonies no more than by
his poignards.
He an accuser?
He a witness?
No, never will I consent to see this monster rise in the presence of
magistrates to take a sacrilegious oath, his hands still reeking with blood.
These words were repeated out of doors.
The witness trembled.
The factious also trembled, the factious who guided the tongue of Trofémy as they
had directed his arm, who dictated calumny after they had taught him murder.
These words penetrated the dungeons of the condemned and inspired hope.
They gave another courageous advocate the resolution to espouse the cause of the
persecuted.
He carried the prayers of innocence and misery to the foot of the throne.
There he asked if the evidence of a Trofémy was not sufficient to annul a
sentence.
The king granted a full and free pardon.
ULTIMATE RESOLUTION OF THE PROTESTANTS AT NIMH With respect to the conduct of the
Protestants, these highly outraged citizens, pushed to extremities by their
persecutors, felt at length that they had only to choose the manner in which they
were to perish.
They unanimously determined that they would die fighting in their own defence.
This firm attitude apprised their butchers that they could no longer murder with
impunity.
Everything was immediately changed.
Those who for four years had filled others with terror now felt it in their turn.
They trembled at the force which men, so long resigned, found in despair,
and their alarm was heightened when they heard that the inhabitants of the
Savannes, persuaded of the danger of their brethren, were marching to their
assistance.
But without waiting for these reinforcements, the Protestants appeared
at night, in the same order and armed in the same manner as their enemies.
The others paraded the boulevards with their usual noise and fury, but the
Protestants remained silent and firm in the posts they had chosen.
Three days these dangerous and ominous meetings continued, but the effusion of
blood was prevented by the efforts of some worthy citizens, distinguished by their
rank and fortune.
By sharing the dangers of the Protestant population, they obtained the pardon of an
enemy who now trembled while he menaced.
Chapter 22 The Beginnings of American Foreign Missions Samuel J.
Mills, when a student in Williams College, gathered about him a group of fellow
students all feeling the burden of the great heathen world.
One day in 1806, four of them, overtaken by a thunderstorm, took refuge
in the shelter of a haystack.
They passed the time in prayer for the salvation of the world, and resolved,
if opportunity offered, to go themselves as missionaries.
This haystack prayer meeting has become historic.
These young men went later to Andover Theological Seminary, where Adoniram
Judson joined them.
Four of these sent a petition to the Massachusetts Congregational Association
at Bradford, June 29, 1810, offering themselves as missionaries and asking
whether they might expect support from a society in this country or whether they
must apply to a British society.
In response to this appeal, the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign
Missions was formed.
When a charter for the board was applied for, an unbelieving soul objected upon the
floor of the legislature, alleging, in opposition to the petition,
that the country contained so limited a supply of Christianity that none could be
spared for export, but was aptly reminded by another who was blessed with a more
optimistic make, that this was a commodity such that the more of it was sent abroad,
the more remained at home.
There was much perplexity concerning plans and finances, so Judson was dispatched to
England to confer with the London Society as to the feasibility of the two
organisations cooperating in sending and sustaining the candidates, but this scheme
came to nothing.
At last sufficient money was raised, and in February 1812 the first
missionaries of the American Board sailed for the Orient.
Mr. Judson was accompanied by his wife, having married Anne Hasseltine shortly
before sailing.
On the long voyage out, in some way Mr. and Mrs. Judson and Mr. Rice were led to
revise their convictions with reference to the proper mode of baptism, reached the
conclusion that only immersion was valid, and were rebaptised by Kerry soon after
their arrival in Calcutta.
This step necessarily sundered their connection with the body which had sent
them forth, and left them wholly destitute of support.
Mr. Rice returned to America to report this condition of affairs to the Baptist
brethren.
They looked upon the situation as the result of an act of providence,
and eagerly planned to accept the responsibility thrust upon them.
Accordingly, the Baptist Missionary Union was formed, so Mr. Judson was the occasion
of the organisation of two great missionary societies.
The Persecution of Dr. Judson After labouring for some time in Hindustan,
Dr. and Mrs. Judson finally established themselves at Rangoon in the Burman Empire
in 1813.
In 1824 war broke out between the British East India Company and the Emperor of
Burma.
Dr. and Mrs. Judson and Dr. Price, who were at Avar, the capital of the
Burman Empire, when the war commenced, were immediately arrested and confined for
several months.
The account of the suffering of the missionaries was written by Mrs. Judson,
and is given in her own words.
Rangoon, May 26, 1826 My beloved brother, I commence this letter with the intention
of giving you the particulars of our captivity and sufferings at Avar.
How long my patience will allow my reviewing scenes of disgust and horror,
the conclusion of this letter will determine.
I had kept a journal of everything that transpired from our arrival at Avar,
but destroyed it at the commencement of our difficulties.
The first certain intelligence we received of the declaration of war by the Burmese
was on our arrival at Senpyuk Haiwan, about a hundred miles this side of Avar,
where part of the troops, under the command of the celebrated Bandula,
had encamped.
As we proceeded on our journey we met Bandula himself with the remainder of his
troops, gaily equipped, seated on his golden barge, and surrounded by a fleet of
gold war-boats, one of which was instantly dispatched the other side of the river to
hail us and make all necessary inquiries.
We were allowed to proceed quietly on, when he had informed the messenger that we
were Americans, not English, and were going to Avar in obedience to the command
of His Majesty.
On our arrival at the capital we found that Dr. Price was out of favour at court,
and that suspicion rested on most of the foreigners then at Avar.
Your brother visited at the palace two or three times, but found the King's manner
toward him very different from what it formerly had been, and the Queen,
who had hitherto expressed wishes for my speedy arrival, now made no inquiries
after me, nor intimated a wish to see me.
Consequently, I made no effort to visit at the palace, though almost daily invited to
visit some of the branches of the royal family, who were living in their own
houses out of the palace enclosure.
Under these circumstances we thought our most prudent course lay in prosecuting our
original intention of building a house, and commencing missionary operations as
occasion offered, thus endeavouring to convince the government that we had really
nothing to do with the present war.
In two or three weeks after our arrival, the King, Queen, all the members of the
royal family, and most of the officers of government, returned to Amarapura in order
to come and take possession of the new palace in the customary style.
I dare not attempt a description of that splendid day, when Majesty, with all its
attendant glory, entered the gates of the Golden City, and amid the acclamations of
millions, I may say, took possession of the palace.
The sorpoirs of the provinces, bordering on China, all the viceroys and
high officers of the kingdom were assembled on the occasion, dressed in
their robes of state, and ornamented with the insignia of their office.
The white elephant, richly adorned with gold and jewels, was one of the most
beautiful objects in the procession.
The King and Queen alone were unadorned, dressed in the simple garb of the country.
They, hand in hand, entered the garden, in which we had taken our seats,
and where a banquet was prepared for their refreshment.
All the riches and glory of the Empire were on this day exhibited to view.
The number and immense size of the elephants, the numerous horses and great
variety of vehicles of all descriptions, far surpassed anything I had ever seen or
imagined.
Soon after His Majesty had taken possession of the new palace, an order was
issued that no foreigner should be allowed to enter, excepting Lansago.
We were a little alarmed at this, but concluded it was from political
motives, and would not perhaps essentially affect us.
For several weeks, nothing took place to alarm us, and we went on with our school.
Mr. J preached every Sabbath, all the materials for building a brick house were
procured, and the masons had made considerable progress in raising the
building.
On the 23rd of May, 1824, just as we'd concluded worship at the doctor's house,
the other side of the river, a messenger came to inform us that Rangoon was taken
by the English.
The intelligence produced a shock, in which was a mixture of fear and joy.
Mr. Gougere, a young merchant residing at Arvo, was then with us, and had much more
reason to fear than the rest of us.
We all, however, immediately returned to our house, and began to consider what was
to be done.
Mr. G.
went to Prince Tharyarwadi, the king's most influential brother, who informed him
he need not give himself any uneasiness, as he'd mentioned the subject to his
majesty, who had replied that the few foreigners residing at Arvo had nothing to
do with the war, and should not be molested.
The government were now all in motion.
An army of ten or twelve thousand men, under the command of the Kiyi-wungi,
were sent off in three or four days, and were to be joined by the Sakya-wungi,
who had previously been appointed viceroy of Rangoon, and who was on his way thither
when the news of its attack reached him.
No doubt he was entertained of the defeat of the English.
The only fear of the king was that the foreigners, hearing of the advance of the
Burmese troops, would be so alarmed as to flee on board their ships and depart,
before there would be time to secure them as slaves.
Bring for me, said a wild young buck at the palace, six Kalapiu, white strangers,
to row my boat, and to me, said the lady of Wungi, send four white strangers to
manage the affairs of my house, as I understand they are trusty servants.
The war-boats, in high glee, passed our house, the soldiers singing and dancing,
and exhibiting gestures of the most joyful kind.
Poor fellows, said we, you will probably never dance again.
And so it proved, but few, if any, ever saw again their native home.
At length Mr. Judson and Dr. Price were summoned to a court of examination,
where strict inquiry was made relative to all they knew.
The great point seemed to be whether they had been in the habit of making
communications to foreigners, of the state of the country, etc.
They answered that they had always written to their friends in America, but had no
correspondence with English officers or the Bengal government.
After their examination they were not put in confinement, as the Englishmen had
been, but were allowed to return to their houses.
In examining the accounts of Mr. G., it was found that Mr. J.
and Dr. Price had taken money of him to a considerable amount.
Ignorant, as were the Burmese of our mode of receiving money, by orders on Bengal,
this circumstance to their suspicious minds was a sufficient evidence that the
missionaries were in the pay of the English, and very probably spies.
It was thus represented to the King, who in an angry tone ordered the immediate
arrest of the two teachers.
On the 8th of June, just as we were preparing for dinner, in rushed an officer
holding a black book with a dozen Burmans, accompanied by one whom, from his spotted
face, we knew to be an executioner and a son of the prison.
"'Where is the teacher?' was the first inquiry.
Mr. Judson presented himself.
"'You are called by the King,' said the officer, a form of speech always used when
about to arrest a criminal.
The spotted man instantly seized Mr. Judson, threw him on the floor,
and produced the small cord, the instrument of torture.
I caught hold of his arm.
"'Stay,' said I.
"'I will give you money.' "'Take her too,' said the officer.
"'She also is a foreigner.' Mr. Judson, with an imploring look, begged they would
let me remain until further orders.
The scene was now shocking beyond description.
The whole neighborhood had collected.
The masons at work on the brick house threw down their tools and ran.
The little Burman children were screaming and crying.
The Bengali servants stood in amazement at the indignities offered their master.
And the hardened executioner, with a hellish joy, drew tight the cords,
bound Mr. Judson fast, and dragged him off.
I knew not whither.
In vain I begged and entreated the spotted face to take the silver and loosen the
ropes, but he spurned my offers, and immediately departed.
I gave the money, however, to Munging to follow after, to make some further attempt
to mitigate the torture of Mr. Judson.
But instead of succeeding, when a few rods from the house, the unfeeling wretches,
again threw their prisoner on the ground and drew the cords still tighter,
so as almost to prevent respiration.
The officer and his gang proceeded on to the courthouse, where the governor of the
city and the officers were collected, one of whom read the order of the king to
commit Mr. Judson to the death-prison, into which he was soon hurled,
the door closed, and Munging saw no more.
What a night was now before me!
I retired into my room and endeavoured to obtain consolation from committing my case
to God, and imploring fortitude and strength to suffer whatever awaited me.
But the consolation of retirement was not long allowed me, for the magistrate of the
place had come into the veranda and continually called me to come out and
submit to his examination.
But previously to going out, I destroyed all my letters, journals, and writings of
every kind, lest they should disclose the fact that we had correspondents in
England, and had minuted down every occurrence since our arrival in the
country.
When this work of destruction was finished, I went out and submitted to the
examination of the magistrate, who inquired very minutely of everything I
knew, then ordered the gates of the compound to be shut, no person be allowed
to go in or out, placed a guard of ten ruffians, to whom he gave a strict charge
to keep me safe, and departed.
It was now dark.
I retired to an inner room with my four little Burman girls and barred the doors.
The guard instantly ordered me to unbar the doors and come out, or they would
break the house down.
I obstinately refused to obey, and endeavoured to intimidate them by
threatening to complain of their conduct to higher authorities on the morrow.
Finding me resolved in disregarding their orders, they took the two Bengali servants
and confined them in the stocks in a very painful position.
I could not endure this, but called a headman to the window and promised to make
them all a present in the morning if they would release the servants.
After much debate and many severe threatenings they consented, but seemed
resolved to annoy me as much as possible.
My unprotected, desolate state, my entire uncertainty of the fate of Mr.
Judson, and the dreadful carousings and almost diabolical language of the guard,
all conspired to make it by far the most distressing night I had ever passed.
You may well imagine, my dear brother, that sleep was a stranger to my eyes and
peace and composure to my mind.
The next morning I sent Mung Ing to ascertain the situation of your brother
and give him food, if still living.
He soon returned with the intelligence that Mr. Judson and all the white
foreigners were confined in the death-prison, with three pairs of iron
fetters each, and fastened to a long pole to prevent their moving.
The point of my anguish now was that I was a prisoner myself and could make no
efforts for the release of the missionaries.
I begged and entreated the magistrate to allow me to go to some member of
government to state my case, but he said he did not dare to consent, for fear I
should make my escape.
I next wrote a note to one of the King's sisters, with whom I had been intimate,
requesting her to use her influence for the release of the teachers.
The note was returned with this message.
She did not understand it, which was a polite refusal to interfere.
Though I afterwards ascertained that she had an anxious desire to assist us,
but dared not on account of the Queen.
The day dragged heavily away, and another dreadful night was before me.
I endeavoured to soften the feelings of the guard by giving them tea and cigars
for the night, so that they allowed me to remain inside of my room without
threatening as they did the night before.
But the idea of your brother being stretched on the bare floor in irons and
confinement haunted my mind like a spectre, and prevented my attaining any
quiet sleep, though nature was almost exhausted.
On the third day I sent a messenger to the Governor of the City, who has the entire
direction of prison affairs, to allow me to visit him with a present.
This had the desired effect, and he immediately sent orders to the guards to
permit my going into town.
The Governor received me pleasantly, and asked me what I wanted.
I stated to him the situation of the foreigners, and particularly that of the
teachers who were Americans and had nothing to do with the war.
He told me it was not in his power to release them from prison or irons,
but that he could make their situation more comfortable.
There was his head officer with whom I must consult, relative to the means.
The officer, who proved to be one of the city writers and whose countenance at the
first glance presented the most perfect assembling of all the evil passions
attached to human nature, took me aside and endeavoured to convince me that
myself, as well as the prisoners, was entirely at his disposal, that our
future comfort must depend on my liberality in regard to presents,
and that these must be made in a private way and unknown to any officer in the
Government.
What must I do, said I, to obtain a mitigation of the present sufferings of
the two teachers?
Pay to me, said he, two hundred ticals, about a hundred dollars, two pieces of
fine cloth and two pieces of handkerchiefs.
I had taken money with me in the morning, our house being two miles from the prison,
I could not easily return.
This I offered to the writer, and begged he would not insist on the other articles,
as they were not in my possession.
He hesitated for some time, but fearing to lose the sight of so much money,
he concluded to take it, promising to relieve the teachers from their most
painful situation.
I then procured an order from the Governor for my admittance into prison.
But the sensations produced by meeting your brother in that wretched,
horrid situation, and the affecting scene which ensued, I will not attempt to
describe.
Mr. Judson crawled to the door of the prison, for I was never allowed to enter,
gave me some directions relative to his release, but before we could make any
arrangement I was ordered to depart by those iron-hearted jailers who could not
endure to see us enjoy the poor consolation of meeting in that miserable
place.
In vain I pleaded the order of the Governor for my admittance.
They again harshly repeated, Depart, or we will pull you out.
The same evening, the missionaries, together with the other foreigners who had
paid an equal sum, were taken out of the common prison and confined in an open shed
in the prison enclosure.
Here I was allowed to send them food and mats to sleep on, but was not permitted to
enter again for several days.
My next object was to get a petition presented to the Queen, but no person
being admitted into the palace who is in disgrace with His Majesty, I sought to
present it through the medium of her brother's wife.
I had visited her in better days and received particular marks of her favour.
But now times were altered.
Mr. Judson was in prison and I in distress, which was a sufficient reason
for giving me a cold reception.
I took a present of considerable value.
She was lolling on her carpet as I entered, with her attendants around her.
I waited not for the usual question to a suppliant, What do you want?
but in a bold, earnest, yet respectful manner, stated our distresses and our
wrongs, and begged her assistance.
She partly raised her head, opened the present I had brought, and coolly replied,
Your case is not singular.
All the foreigners are treated alike.
But it is singular, said I.
The teachers are Americans, their ministers are religion, have nothing to do
with war or politics, and came to Ava in obedience to the King's command.
They have never done anything to deserve such treatment, and is it right they
should be treated thus?
The King does as he pleases, said she.
I am not the King.
What can I do?
You can state their case to the Queen, and obtain their release, replied I.
Place yourself in my situation.
Were you in America, your husband, innocent of crime, thrown into prison,
in irons, and you a solitary, unprotected female, what would you do?
With a slight degree of feeling, she said, I will present your petition
come again tomorrow.
I returned to the house with considerable hope that the speedy release of the
missionaries was at hand.
But the next day, Mr. Gouger's property, to the amount of fifty thousand dollars,
was taken and carried to the palace.
The officers, on their return, politely informed me they should visit our
house on the morrow.
I felt obliged for this information, and accordingly made preparations to
receive them, by secreting as many little articles as possible, together with
considerable silver, as I knew if the war should be protracted, we should be in a
state of starvation without it.
But my mind was in a dreadful state of agitation, lest it should be discovered,
and cause my being thrown into prison.
And had it been possible to procure money from any other quarter, I should not have
ventured on such a step.
The following morning the Royal Treasurer, Prince Thariyawadee's Chief Woon,
and Kungtoni Mayutsa, who is in future our steady friend, attended by forty or fifty
followers, came to take possession of all we had.
I treated them civilly, gave them chairs to sit on, tea and sweetmeats for their
refreshment, and justice obliges me to say that they conducted the business of
confiscation with more regard to my feelings than I should have thought it
possible for Burmese officers to exhibit.
The three officers, with one of the Royal Secretaries, alone entered the house,
their attendants were ordered to remain outside.
They saw I was deeply affected, and apologised for what they were about to
do, by saying that it was painful for them to take possession of property not their
own, but they were compelled thus to do by order of the King.
Where is your silver, gold, and jewels?
said the Royal Treasurer.
I have no gold or jewels, but here is the key of a trunk which contains the silver.
Do with it as you please.
The trunk was produced, and the silver weighed.
This money, said I, was collected in America by the Disciples of Christ,
and sent here for the purpose of building a kyung, the name of a priest's dwelling,
and for our support while teaching the religion of Christ.
Is it suitable that you should take it?
The Burmans are averse to taking what is offered in a religious point of view,
which was the cause of my making the inquiry.
We will state this circumstance to the King, said one of them, and perhaps he
will restore it.
But this is all the silver you have?
I could not tell a falsehood.
The house is in your possession, I replied.
Search for yourselves.
Have you not deposited silver with some person of your acquaintance?
My acquaintances are all in prison, with whom should I deposit silver?
They next ordered my trunk and drawers to be examined.
The Secretary only was allowed to accompany me in this search.
Everything nice or curious which met his view was presented to the officers for
their decision whether it should be taken or retained.
I begged they would not take our wearing apparel, as it would be disgraceful to
take clothes partly worn into the possession of His Majesty, and to us they
were of unspeakable value.
They assented and took a list only, and did the same with the books,
medicines, etc.
My little work-table and rocking chair, presents from my beloved brother,
I rescued from their grasp, partly by artifice and partly through their
ignorance.
They left also many articles which were of inestimable value during our long
imprisonment.
As soon as they had finished their search and departed, I hastened to the fate of my
petition, when, alas, all my hopes were dashed by his wife's coolly saying,
I stated your case to the Queen, but Her Majesty replied, the teachers will
not die, let them remain as they are.
My expectations had been so much excited that this sentence was like a thunderbolt
to my feelings.
For the truth, at one glance assured me that if the Queen refused assistance,
who would dare to intercede for me?
With a heavy heart I departed, and on my way home attempted to enter the
prison gate to communicate the sad tidings to your brother, but was harshly refused
admittance.
And for the ten days following, notwithstanding my daily efforts,
I was not allowed to enter.
We attempted to communicate by writing, and after being successful for a few days,
it was discovered, the poor fellow who carried the communications was beaten and
put in the stocks.
The circumstance cost me about ten dollars, besides two or three days of
agony, for fear of the consequences.
The officers who had taken possession of our property presented it to His Majesty,
saying, Judson is a true teacher, we found nothing in his house but what
belongs to priests.
In addition to this money there are an immense number of books, medicine,
trunks of wearing apparel, of which we have only taken a list.
Shall we take them, or let them remain?
Let them remain, said the King, and put this property by itself,
for it shall be restored to him again if he is found innocent.
This was an allusion to the idea of his being a spy.
For two or three months following, I was subjected to continual harassment,
partly through my ignorance of police management, and partly through the
insatiable desire of every petty officer to enrich himself through our misfortunes.
You, my dear brother, who know my strong attachment to my friends, and how much
pleasure I have hitherto experienced from retrospect, can judge from the above
circumstances how intense were my sufferings.
But the point, the acme of my distresses, consisted in the awful uncertainty of our
final fate.
My prevailing opinion was that my husband would suffer violent death, and that I
should, of course, become a slave and languish out of miserable though short
existence in the tyrannic hands of some unfeeling monster.
But the consolations of religion in these trying circumstances were neither few nor
small.
It taught me to look beyond this world, to that rest, that peaceful, happy rest
where Jesus reigns and oppression never enters.
Some months after your brother's imprisonment, I was permitted to make a
little bamboo room in the prison enclosures where he could be much by
himself, and where I was sometimes allowed to spend two or three hours.
It so happened that the two months he occupied this place was the coldest part
of the year when he would have suffered much in the open shed he had previously
occupied.
After the birth of your little niece, I was unable to visit the prison and the
governor as before, and found I had lost considerable influence previously gained,
for he was not so forward to hear my petitions when any difficulty occurred as
he formerly had been.
When Maria was nearly two months old, her father one morning sent me word that
he and all the white prisoners were put into the inner prison in five pairs of
fetters each, that his little room had been torn down, and his mat, pillow,
etc., had been taken by the jailers.
This was to me a dreadful shock, as I thought at once it was only a prelude
to greater evils.
The situation of the prisoners was now distressing beyond description.
It was at the commencement of the hot season.
There were above a hundred prisoners shut up in one room, without a breath of air
excepting from the cracks in the boards.
I sometimes attained permission to go to the door for five minutes, when my heart
sickened at the wretchedness exhibited.
The white prisoners, from incessant perspiration and loss of appetite,
look more like the dead than the living.
I made daily applications to the governor, offering him money, which he refused,
but all that I gained was permission for the foreigners to eat their food outside,
and this continued but a short time.
After continuing in the inner prison for more than a month, your brother was taken
with a fever.
I felt assured he would not live long unless removed from that noisome place.
To effect this, and in order to be near the prison, I removed from our house and
put up a small bamboo room in the governor's enclosure, which was nearly
opposite the prison gate.
Here I incessantly begged the governor to give me an order to take Mr. J.
out of the large prison and place him in a more comfortable situation.
And the old man, being worn out with my entreaties, at length gave me the order in
an official form, and also gave orders to the head jailer to allow me to go in and
out all times of the day to administer medicines.
I now felt happy indeed, and had Mr. J.
instantly removed into a little bamboo hovel, so low that neither of us could
stand upright, but a palace in comparison with the place he had left.
Removal of the prisoners to Ung Pen La, Mrs. Judson follows them.
Notwithstanding the order the governor had given for my admittance into prison,
it was with the greatest difficulty that I could persuade the under-jailer to open
the gate.
I used to carry Mr. J.'s food myself for the sake of getting in, and would then
remain an hour or two and less driven out.
We had been in this comfortable situation but two or three days, when one morning,
having carried in Mr. Judson's breakfast, which in consequence of fever he was
unable to take, I remained longer than usual, when the governor in great haste
sent for me.
I promised him to return as soon as I had ascertained the governor's will,
he being much alarmed at this unusual message.
I was very agreeably disappointed when the governor informed that he only wished to
consult me about his watch, and seemed unusually pleasant and conversable.
I found afterwards that his only object was to detain me until the dreadful scene
about to take place in the prison was over, for when I left him to go to my
room, one of the servants came running, and with a ghastly countenance informed me
that all the white prisoners were carried away.
I would not believe the report, but instantly went back to the governor,
who said he had just heard of it, but did not wish to tell me.
I hastily ran into the street, hoping to get a glimpse of them before
they were out of sight, but in this was disappointed.
I ran first into one street, then another, inquiring of all I met, but none would
answer me.
At length an old woman told me that the white prisoners had gone towards the
little river, for they were to be carried to Amarapura.
I then ran to the banks of the little river, about half a mile, but saw them
not, and concluded the old woman had deceived me.
Some of the friends of the foreigners went to the place of execution, but found them
not.
I then returned to the governor to try to discover the cause of their removal and
the probability of their future fate.
The old man assured me that he was ignorant of the intention of government to
remove the foreigners until that morning.
That since I went out, he had learned that the prisoners had been sent to Amarapura,
but for what purpose he knew not.
I will send off a man immediately, said he, to see what is to be done with
them.
You can do nothing more for your husband, continued he.
Take care of yourself.
Never before had I suffered so much from fear in traversing the streets of Ava.
The last words of the governor, take care of yourself, made me suspect
there was some design with which I was unacquainted.
I saw also he was afraid to have me go into the streets, and advised me to wait
until dark when he would send me in a cart and a man to open the gates.
I took two or three trunks of the most valuable articles, together with the
medicine chest, to deposit in the house of the governor, and after committing the
house and premises to our faithful Munging and a Bengali servant, who continued with
us though we were unable to pay his wages, I took leave as I then thought probable of
our house in Ava forever.
The day was dreadfully hot, but we obtained a covered boat, in which we were
tolerably comfortable, until within two miles of the government house.
I then procured a cart, but the violent motion, together with the dreadful heat
and dust, made me almost distracted.
But what was my disappointment on my arriving at the courthouse to find the
prisoners had been sent on two hours before, and that I must go in that
uncomfortable mode four miles further with little Maria in my arms, whom I held all
the way from Ava.
The cartman refused to go any further, and after waiting an hour in the burning
sun, I procured another and set off for that never to be forgotten place,
Ung Pen La.
I obtained a guide from the governor and was conducted directly to the prison yard.
But what a scene of wretchedness was presented to my view.
The prison was an old, shattered building without a roof.
The fence was entirely destroyed.
Eight or ten Burmese were on top of the building, trying to make something like a
shelter with the leaves, while under a little low protection outside of the
prison sat the foreigners, chained together two and two, almost dead with
suffering and fatigue.
The first words of your brother were, Why have you come?
I hoped you would not follow, for you cannot live here.
It was now dark.
I had no refreshment for the prisoners or for myself, as I had expected to procure
all that was necessary at the market in Amarapura, and I had no shelter for the
night.
I asked one of the jailers if I might put up a little bamboo house near the
prisoners.
He said no, it was not customary.
I then begged he would procure me a shelter for the night, when on the morrow
I could find some place to live in.
He took me to his house, in which there were only two small rooms, one in which he
and his family lived, the other which was then half full of grain he offered to me,
and in that little filthy place I spent the next six months of wretchedness.
I procured some half-boiled water instead of my tea, and, worn out with fatigue,
laid myself down on a mat spread over the paddy, and endeavoured to obtain a little
refreshment from sleep.
The next morning your brother gave me the following account of the brutal treatment
he had received on being taken out of prison.
As soon as I had gone out at the call of the Governor, one of the jailers rushed
into Mr. J's little room, roughly seized him by the arm, pulled him out,
stripped of all of his clothes except shirt and pantaloons, took his shoes,
hat, and all his bedding, tore off his chains, tied a rope round his waist,
dragged him to the courthouse where the other prisoners had previously been taken.
They were then tied two and two, and delivered into the hands of the
Laminewoun, who went on before them on horseback, while his slaves drove the
prisoners, one of the slaves holding the rope which connected two of them together.
It was in May, one of the hottest months in the year, and eleven o'clock in the
day, so that the sun was intolerable indeed.
They had proceeded only half a mile when your brother's feet became blistered,
and so great was his agony, even at this early period, that as they were crossing
the little river he longed to throw himself into the water to be free from
misery.
But the sin attached to such an act alone prevented.
They had then eight miles to walk.
The sand and gravel were like burning coals to the feet of the prisoners,
which soon became perfectly destitute of skin, and in this wretched state they were
goaded on by their unfeeling drivers.
Mr. J's debilitated state, in consequence of the fever, and having taken no food
that morning, rendered him less capable of bearing such hardships than the other
prisoners.
When about halfway on their journey, as they stopped for water, your brother
begged the Lamine Woun to allow him to ride his horse a mile or two, as he could
proceed no farther in that dreadful state.
But a scornful, malignant look was all the reply that was made.
He then requested Captain Laird, who was tied with him, and who was a
strong, healthy man, to allow him to take hold of his shoulder as he was fast
sinking.
This the kind-hearted man granted for a mile or two, but then found the additional
burden insupportable.
Just at that period Mr. Gouget's Bengali servant came up to them, and seeing the
distresses of your brother, took off his headdress, which was made of cloth,
tore it in two, gave half to his master and half to Mr. Judson, which he instantly
wrapped round his wounded feet, as they were not allowed to rest even for
a moment.
The servant then offered his shoulder to Mr. J., and was almost carried by him the
remainder of the way.
The Lamine Woun, seeing the distressing state of the prisoners, and that one of
their number was dead, concluded they should go no farther that night,
otherwise they would have been driven on until they reached Oong Peng La the same
day.
An old shed was appointed for their abode during the night, but without even a mat
or pillow or anything to cover them.
The curiosity of the Lamine Woun's wife induced her to make a visit to the
prisoners, whose wretchedness considerably excited her compassion, and she ordered
some fruit, sugar, and tamarinds for their refreshment, and the next morning rice was
prepared for them, and as poor as it was, it was refreshing to the prisoners,
who had been almost destitute of food the day before.
Carts were also provided for their conveyance, as none of them were able to
walk.
All this time the foreigners were entirely ignorant of what was to become of them,
and when they arrived at Oong Peng La and saw the dilapidated state of the prison,
they immediately, all as one, concluded that they were there to be burned,
agreeably to the report which had previously been in circulation at Ava.
They all endeavoured to prepare themselves for the awful scene anticipated,
and it was not until they saw preparations making for repairing the prison that they
had the least doubt that a cruel, lingering death awaited them.
My arrival was an hour or two after this.
The next morning I arose and endeavoured to find something like food, but there was
no market and nothing to be procured.
One of Dr. Price's friends, however, brought some cold rice and vegetable curry
from Amarapora, which together with a cup of tea from Mr. Lansago answered for the
breakfast of the prisoners, and for dinner we made a curry of dried salt fish,
which a servant of Mr. Griget had brought.
All the money I could command in the world I had brought with me secreted about my
person, so you may judge what our prospects were in case the war should
continue long.
But our Heavenly Father was better to us than our fears, for notwithstanding the
constant extortions of the jailers, during the whole six months we were at
Oong Pen La and the frequent straits to which we were brought, we never really
suffered for want of money, though frequently for want of provisions which
were not procurable.
Here at this place my personal bodily sufferings commenced.
While your brother was confined in the city prison, I had been allowed to remain
in our house, in which I had many conveniences left, and my health continued
good beyond all expectations.
But now I had not a single article of convenience, not even a chair or seat of
any kind excepting a bamboo floor.
The very morning after my arrival, Mary Hasseltine was taken with the
smallpox the natural way.
She, though very young, was the only assistant I had in taking care of little
Maria, but she now required all the time I could spare for Mr. Judson, whose fever
still continued in prison, and whose feet were so dreadfully mangled that for
several days he was unable to move.
I knew not what to do, for I could procure no assistance from the neighbourhood or
medicine for the sufferers, but was all day long going backwards and forwards from
the house to the prison with little Maria in my arms.
Sometimes I was greatly relieved by leaving her for an hour, when asleep,
by the side of her father, while I returned to the house to look after Mary,
whose fever ran so high as to produce delirium.
She was so completely covered with the smallpox that there was no distinction in
the pustules.
As she was in the same little room with myself, I knew Maria would take it.
I therefore inoculated her from another child, before Mary's had arrived at such a
state to be infectious.
At the same time I inoculated Abbie and the jailer's children, who all had it so
lightly as hardly to interrupt their play.
But the inoculation in the arm of my poor little Maria did not take.
She caught it of Mary, and had it the natural way.
She was then only three months and a half old, and had been a healthy child,
but it was above three months before she perfectly recovered from the effects of
this dreadful disorder.
You will recollect I never had the smallpox, but was vaccinated previously to
leaving America.
In consequence of being for so long a time constantly exposed, I had nearly a hundred
pustules formed, though no previous symptoms of fever, etc.
The jailer's children, having had the smallpox so lightly, in consequence of
inoculation, my fame was spread all over the village, and every child, young and
old, who had not previously had it, was brought for inoculation.
And although I knew nothing about the disorder or the mode of treating it,
I inoculated them all with a needle and told them to take care of their diet,
all the instructions I could give them.
Mr. Judson's health was gradually restored, and he found himself much more
comfortably situated than when in the city prison.
The prisoners were at first chained two and two, but as soon as the jailers could
obtain chains sufficient, they were separated, and each prisoner had but one
pair.
The prison was repaired, a new fence made, and a large airy shed erected in front of
the prison, where the prisoners were allowed to remain during the day,
though locked up in the little close prison at night.
All the children recovered from the smallpox, but my watchings and fatigue,
together with my miserable food and more miserable lodgings, brought on one of the
diseases of the country which is almost always fatal to foreigners.
My constitution seemed destroyed, and in a few days I became so weak as to
be hardly able to walk to Mr. Judson's prison.
In this debilitated state I set off in a cart for Ava to procure medicines and some
suitable food, leaving the cook to supply my place.
I reached the house in safety, and for two or three days the disorder
seemed out of stand, after which it attacked me violently that I had no hopes
of recovery left, and my anxiety now was to return to Ung Pen La to die near the
prison.
It was with the greatest difficulty that I obtained the medicine chest from the
governor, and then had no one to administer medicine.
I, however, got at the lodgnum, and by taking two drops at a time for
several hours, it so far checked the disorder as to enable me to get on board a
boat, though so weak that I could not stand, and again set off for Ung Pen La.
The last four miles were in that painful conveyance the cart, and in the midst of
the rainy season, when the mud almost buries the oxen.
You may form some idea of a Burmese cart when I tell you their wheels are not
constructed like ours, but are simply round thick planks, with a hole in the
middle, through which a pole that supports the body is thrust.
I had just reached Ung Pen La when my strength seemed entirely exhausted.
The good native cook came out to help me into the house, but so altered and
emaciated was my appearance that the poor fellow burst into tears at the first
sight.
I crawled on the mat in the little room to which I was confined for more than two
months, and never perfectly recovered until I came to the English camp.
At this period, when I was unable to take care of myself or look after Mr. Judson,
we must both have died had it not been for the faithful and affectionate care of our
Bengali cook.
A common Bengali cook will do nothing but the simple business of cooking,
but he seemed to forget his caste and almost his own wants in his efforts to
serve us.
He would provide, cook and carry your brother's food, and then return and take
care of me.
I have frequently known him not to taste a food until near night, in consequence of
having to go so far for wood and water, and in order to have Mr. Judson's dinner
ready at the usual hour.
He never complained, never asked for his wages, and never for a moment hesitated to
go anywhere or perform any act we required.
I take great pleasure in speaking of the faithful conduct of this servant,
who is still with us, and I trust has been well rewarded for his services.
Our dear little Maria was the greatest sufferer at this time, my illness
depriving her of her usual nourishment, and neither a nurse nor a drop of milk
could be procured in the village.
By making presents to the jailers, I obtained leave for Mr. Judson to come
out of prison and take the emaciated creature around the village to beg a
little nourishment from those mothers who had young children.
Her cries in the night were heart-rending when it was impossible to supply her want.
I now began to think the very affliction of Job had come upon me.
When in health I could bear the various trials and vicissitudes through which I
was called to pass, but to be confined with sickness and unable to assist those
who were so dear to me when in distress, was almost too much for me to bear,
and had it not been for the consolations of religion and an assured conviction that
every additional trial was ordered by infinite love and mercy, I must have sunk
under my accumulated sufferings.
Sometimes our jailers seemed a little softened at our distress, and for several
days together allowed Mr. Judson to come to the house, which was to me an
unspeakable consolation.
Then again they would be as iron-hearted in their demands as though we were free
from sufferings and in affluent circumstances.
The annoyance, the extortions and oppressions to which we were subject
during our six months' residence in Oon Pen La are beyond enumeration or
description.
The time at length arrived for our release from that detested place, the Oon Pen La
prison.
A messenger from our friend the Governor of the North Gate of the Palace,
who was formerly Kungtung Myut Sa, informed us that an order had been given
the evening before in the palace for Mr. Judson's release.
On the same evening an official order arrived, and with a joyful heart I set
about preparing for our departure early the following morning.
But an unexpected obstacle occurred which made us fear that I should still be
retained as a prisoner.
The avaricious jailers, unwilling to lose their prey, insisted that as my name was
not included in the order I should not go.
In vain I urged that I was not sent there as a prisoner, and that they had no
authority over me.
They still determined I should not go, and forbade the villagers from letting me
a cart.
Mr. Judson was then taken out of prison and brought to the jailer's house,
where by promises and threatenings he finally gained their consent on condition
that we would leave the remaining part of our provisions we had recently received
from Ava.
It was noon before we were allowed to depart.
When we reached Amarapura, Mr. Judson was obliged to follow the guidance of the
jailer, who conducted him to the governor of the city.
Having made all necessary inquiries, the governor appointed another guard,
which conveyed Mr. Judson to the courthouse in Ava, to which place he
arrived some time in the night.
I took my own course, procured a boat, and reached our house before dark.
My first object the next morning was to go in search of your brother, and I had the
mortification to meet him again in prison, though not the death prison.
I went immediately to my old friend the governor of the city, who was now raised
to the rank of Wung Yee.
He informed me that Mr. Judson was to be sent to the Burmese camp, to act as
translator and interpreter, and that he was put in confinement for a short time
only, until his affairs were settled.
Early the following morning I went to this officer again, who told me that Mr. Judson
had at that moment received twenty Tikals from government, with orders to go
immediately on board a boat for Maloon, and that he had given him permission to
stop a few moments at the house, it being on his way.
I hastened back to the house where Mr. Judson soon arrived, but was allowed to
remain only a short time, while I could prepare food and clothing for future use.
He was crowded into a little boat, where he had not room sufficient to lie
down, and where his exposure to the cold, damp night threw him into a violent fever,
which had nearly ended all his sufferings.
He arrived at Maloon on the third day, where, ill as he was, he was obliged to
enter immediately on the work of translating.
He remained at Maloon six weeks, suffering as much as he had at any time in
prison, except that he was not in irons, nor exposed to the insults of those cruel
jailers.
For the first fortnight after his departure, my anxiety was less than it had
been at any time previous since the commencement of our difficulties.
I knew the Burmese officers at the camp would feel the value of Mr. Judson's
services too much to allow their using any measures threatening his life.
I thought his situation also would be much more comfortable than it really was,
hence my anxiety was less.
But my health, which had never been restored since that violent attack at Oong
Pen La, now daily declined until I was seized with a spotted fever with all its
attendant horrors.
I knew the nature of the fever from its commencement, and from the shattered state
of my constitution, together with the want of medical attendance, I concluded it must
be fatal.
The day I was taken, a Burmese nurse came and offered her services for Maria.
This circumstance filled me with gratitude and confidence in God, for though I had so
long and so constantly made efforts to obtain a person of this description,
I had never been able, when at the very time I most needed one and without any
exertion, a voluntary offer was made.
My fever raged violently and without any intermission.
I began to think of settling my worldly affairs and of committing my dear little
Maria to the care of the Portuguese woman, when I lost my reason and was insensible
to all around me.
At this dreadful period, Dr. Price was released from prison, and hearing of my
illness obtained permission to come and see me.
He has since told me that my situation was the most distressing he had ever
witnessed, and that he did not then think I should survive many hours.
My hair was shaved, my head and feet covered with blisters, and Dr. Price
ordered the Bengali servant who took care of me to endeavour to persuade me to take
a little nourishment, which I had obstinately refused for several days.
One of the first things I recollect was seeing this faithful servant standing by
me, trying to induce me to take a little wine and water.
I was, in fact, so far gone that the Burmese neighbours who had come in to see
me expire said, she's dead, and if the King of Angels should come in he could not
recover her.
The fever, I afterwards understood, had run seventeen days when the blisters
were applied.
I now began to recover slowly, but it was more than a month after this
before I had strength to stand.
While in this weak, debilitated state, the servant who had followed your brother
to the Burmese camp came in and informed me that his master had arrived and was
conducted to the courthouse in town.
I sent off a Burman to watch the movements of Government, and to ascertain if
possible in what way Mr. Judson was to be disposed of.
He soon returned with the sad intelligence that he saw Mr. Judson go out of the
palace yard accompanied by two or three Burmans who conducted him to one of the
prisons, and that it was reported in town that he was to be sent back to the Ung Pen
La prison.
I was too weak to bear ill tidings of any kind, but a shock as dreadful as this
almost annihilated me.
For some time I could hardly breathe, but at last gained sufficient composure to
dispatch Mung Ing to our friend the Governor of the North Gate, and begged him
to make one more effort for the release of Mr. Judson and prevent his being sent back
to the country prison, where I knew he must suffer much as I could not follow.
Mung Ing then went in search of Mr. Judson, and it was nearly dark when he
found him in the interior of an obscure prison.
I had sent food early in the afternoon, but being unable to find him, the bearer
had returned with it, which added another pang to my distress, as I feared he was
already sent to Ung Pen La.
If I ever felt the value and efficacy of prayer I did at this time, I could not
rise from my couch, I could make no efforts to secure my husband, I could only
plead with that great and powerful Being who has said call upon me in the day of
trouble and I will hear, and now shalt glorify me, and who made me at this time
feel so powerfully this promise, that I became quite composed, feeling
assured that my prayers would be answered.
Where Mr. Judson was sent from Maloon to Ava, it was within five minutes' notice,
and without his knowledge of the cause.
On his way up the river he accidentally saw the communication made to Government
respecting him, which was simply this, We have no further use for Yudhathan,
we therefore return him to the Golden City.
On arriving at the courthouse, there happened to be no one present who
was acquainted with Mr. J., the presiding officer inquired from what place he had
been sent to Maloon, he was answered from Oong Pen La, let him then said the officer
be returned to Ava, when he was delivered to a guard and conducted to the place
above mentioned, there to remain until he could be conveyed to Oong Pen La.
In the meantime, the Governor of the North Gate presented a petition to the High
Court of the Empire, offered himself as Mr. Judson's security, obtained his
release and took him to his house, where he treated him with every possible
kindness, and to which I was removed as soon as returning health would allow.
It was on a cool, moonlight evening in the month of March, that with hearts filled
with gratitude to God and overflowing with joy at our prospects, we passed down the
Irrawaddy, surrounded by six or eight golden boats, and accompanied by all we
had on earth.
We now, for the first time for more than a year and a half, felt that we were free
and no longer subject to the oppressive yoke of the Burmese.
And with what sensations of delight, on the next morning did I beheld the masts
of the steamboat, the sure presage of being within the bounds of civilized life.
As soon as our boat reached the shore, Brigadier A.
and another officer came on board, congratulated us on our arrival,
and invited us on board the steamboat, where I passed the remainder of the day,
while your brother went on to meet the General, with a detachment of the Army had
encamped at Yandabu, a few miles farther down the river.
Mr. Judson returned in the evening, with an invitation from Sir Archibald,
to come immediately to his quarters, where I was the next morning introduced
and received with the greatest kindness by the General, who had a tent pitched for us
near his own, took us to his own table, and treated us with the kindness of a
father, rather than as strangers of another country.
For several days, this single idea wholly occupied my mind, that we were out of the
power of the Burmese Government, and once more under the protection of the
English.
Our feelings continually dictated expressions like these, what shall we
render to the Lord for all his benefits toward us?
The Treaty of Peace was soon concluded, signed by both parties, and a termination
of hostilities publicly declared.
We left Yandabu after a fortnight's residence, and safely reached the Mission
House in Rangoon, after an absence of two years and three months.
Through all this suffering, the precious manuscript of the Burmese New Testament
was guarded.
It was put into a bag, and made into a hard pillow, for Dr. Judson's prison.
Yet it was forced to be apparently careless about it, lest the Burmans should
think it contained something valuable and take it away.
But with the assistance of a faithful Burmese convert, the manuscript,
representing so many long days of labour, was kept in safety.
At the close of this long and melancholy narrative, we may appropriately introduce
the following tribute to the benevolence and talents of Mrs. Judson, written by one
of the English prisoners who were confined at Arbor with Mr. Judson.
It was published in a Calcutta paper after the conclusion of the war.
Mrs. Judson was the author of those eloquent and forceful appeals to the
Government, which prepared them by degrees for submission to terms of peace,
never expected by any who knew the hauteur and inflexible pride of the Burman court.
And while on this subject, the overflowings of grateful feelings,
on behalf of myself and fellow prisoners, compel me to add a tribute of public
thanks to that amiable and humane female, who, though living at a distance of two
miles from our prison, without any means of conveyance, and very feeble in health,
forgot her own comfort and infirmity, and almost every day visited us,
sought out and administered to our wants, and contributed in every way to alleviate
our misery.
While we were left by the Government destitute of food, she, with unwearied
perseverance by some means or another, obtained for us a constant supply.
When the tattered state of our clothes evinced the extremity of our distress,
she was ever ready to replenish our scanty wardrobe.
When the unfeeling avarice of our keepers confined us inside or made our feet fast
in the stocks, she, like a ministering angel, never ceased her applications to
the Government until she was authorised to communicate to us the grateful news of our
enlargement, or of a respite from our galling oppressions.
Besides all this, it was unquestionably, owing in a chief degree to the repeated
eloquence and forcible appeals of Mrs. Judson, that the untutored Burman was
finally made willing to secure the welfare and happiness of his country by a sincere
peace.
Epilogue to the Original Edition And now, to conclude, good Christian readers,
this present tractation, not for the lack of matter, but to shorten rather the
matter for largeness of the volume.
In the meantime, the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ work with thee, gentle
reader, in all thy studious readings.
And when thou hast faith, so employ thyself to read, that by reading thou
mayst learn daily to know that which may profit thy soul, may teach thee
experience, may arm thee with patience, and instruct thee in all spiritual
knowledge more and more to thy perfect comfort and salvation in Christ Jesus our
Lord, to whom be glory in secular secularum.
Amen.
Thank you for listening to this recording of Fox's Book of Martyrs by John Fox,
edited by William Byron Forbush.
This book was read by Nadia May.
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