“Rangoon,May26, 1826.“I commence this letter with the intention of giving you the particulars of our captivity and sufferings at Ava. 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 had transpired from our arrival at Ava, 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 Tsen-pyoo-kywon, about a hundred miles this side of Ava, where part of the troops under the command of the celebrated Bandoola had encamped. As we proceeded on our journey, we met Bandoola himself with the remainder of his troops, gaily equipped, seated on his golden barge, and surrounded by a fleet of golden war-boats, one of which was instantly dispatched from the other side of the river to hail us, and make all necessary inquiries. We were allowed to proceed quietly on, when we had informed the messenger that we were Americans,not English, and were going to Ava in obedience to the command of his majesty.“On our arrival at the capital, we found that Dr. Price was out of favor at court, and that suspicion rested on most of the foreigners then at Ava. 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 theirown 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 occasions offered, thus endeavoring 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 Amarapoora, in order to come and take possession of the new palace in the customary style. As there has been much misunderstanding relative to Ava and Amarapoora, both being called the capital of the Burmese empire, I will here remark that the present Ava was formerly the seat of Government; but soon after the old king had ascended the throne, it was forsaken, and a new palace built at Amarapoora, about six miles from Ava, in which he remained during his life. In the fourth year of the reign of the present king, Amarapoora was in its turn forsaken, and a new and beautiful palace built at Ava, which wasthenin ruins, but isnow the capitalof the Burmese empire. The king and royal family had been living in temporary buildings at Ava, during the completion of the new palace, which gave occasion for their returning to Amarapoora.“For several weeks nothing took place to alarm us, and we went on with our school. Mr. Judson 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 23d of May, 1824, just as we had 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. Gouger, a young merchant residing at Ava, 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 Thah-ya-wa-dee, the king’s most influential brother, who informed him he need not give himselfany uneasiness, as he had mentioned the subject to his majesty, who had replied, that ‘the few foreigners residing at Ava 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 kyee-woon-gyee, were sent off in three or four days, and were to be joined by the sakyah-woon-gyee, 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 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 of the palace, ‘six kala-pyoos [white strangers] to row my boat.’ ‘And to me,’ said the lady of a woon-gyee, ‘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 joyous kind. ‘Poor fellows!’ said we, ‘you will probably never dance again.’ And it so proved, for few, if any, ever again saw their native home.“As soon as the army were dispatched, the Government began to inquire the cause of the arrival of the strangers at Rangoon. There must be spies in the country, suggested some, who had invited them over. And who so likely to be spies as the Englishmen residing at Ava? A report was in circulation that Captain Laird, lately arrived, had brought Bengal papers which contained the intention of the English to take Rangoon, and it was kept a secret from his majesty. An inquiry was instituted. The three Englishmen, Gouger, Laird, and Rogers, were called and examined. It was found they had seen the papers, and were put in confinement, though not in prison. We now began to tremble for ourselves, and were in daily expectation of some dreadful event.“At length Mr. Judson and Dr. Price were summoned toa 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, 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. Gouger, it was found that Mr. Judson 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 dozenBurmans,Burmans,accompanied byone, 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 till 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 Bengalee servants stood in amazement at the indignities offered their master; and the hardened executioner, with a kind of 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 spottedface to take the silver, and loosen the ropes; but he spurned my offers, and immediately departed. I gave the money, however, to Moung Ing 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 court-house, where the governor of the city and 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 Moung Ing saw no more. What a night was now before me! I retired into my room, and endeavored 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 to 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 endeavored 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 Bengalee servants, and confined them in the stocks in a very painful position. I could not endure this, but called the head man to the window, and promised tomake 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 Moung 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 afterward 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 endeavored 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 obtaining any quiet sleep, though nature was almost exhausted.“On the third day I sent a message to the governor of the city, who has the entire direction of prison affairs, to allowme 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 assemblage of all the evil passions attached to human nature, took me aside and endeavored 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 thatwretched, horridsituation, and the affecting scene which ensued, I will not attempt to describe.[29]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 from 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 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 was 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 favor. 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; they are ministers of religion, have nothing to do with war or politics, and came toAva 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 to-morrow.’ 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 rupees, was taken and carried to the palace. The officers, on their return, politely informed me they shouldvisit our houseon 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, the governor of the north gate of the palace, who was in future our steady friend, and another nobleman, 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 apologized for what they were about to do by saying it was painful for them to take possession of property not their own, but they were compelled thus to do byorder of the king. ‘Where are 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 akyoung[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 Burmese 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 is this 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 queen’s brother to hear what had been 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 thunder-clap 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, and 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, medicines, trunks of wearing apparel, etc., 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 in allusion to the idea of his being a spy.“For two or three months following, I was subject to continual harassments, partly through my ignorance of police management, and partly through the insatiable desire of every petty officer to enrich himself through our misfortunes. When the officers came to our house to confiscate our property, they insisted on knowing how much I had given the governor and prison officers to release the teachers from the inner prison. I honestly told them, and they demanded the sum from the governor, which threw him into a dreadful rage, and he threatened to put all the prisoners back into their original place. I went to him the next morning, and the first words with which he accosted me were, ‘You are very bad; why did you tell the royal treasurer that you had given me so much money?’ ‘The treasurer inquired; what could I say?’ I replied. Say that you had given nothing,’ said he, ‘and I would have made the teachers comfortablein prison; but now I know not what will be their fate.’ ‘But I can not tell a falsehood,’ I replied; ‘my religion differs from yours; it forbids prevarication; and had you stood by me with your knife raised, I could not have said what you suggest.’ His wife, who sat by his side, and who always, from this time, continued my firm friend, instantly said, ‘Very true; what else could she have done? I like such straightforward conduct; you must not,’ turning to the governor, ‘be angry with her.’ I then presented the governor with a beautiful opera-glass I had just received from England, and begged his anger at me would not influence him to treat the prisoners with unkindness, and I would endeavor, from time to time, to make him such presents as would compensate for his loss. ‘You may intercede for your husband only; for your sake he shall remain where he is; but let the other prisoners take care of themselves.’ I pleaded hard for Dr. Price; but he would not listen, and, the same day, had him returned to the inner prison, where he remained ten days. He was then taken out, in consequence of the doctor’s promising a piece of broadcloth, and my sending two pieces of handkerchiefs.“About this period I was one day summoned to the Lut-d’hau in an official way. What new evil was before me I knew not, but was obliged to go. When arrived, I was allowed tostandat the bottom of the stairs, as no female is permitted to ascend the steps, or even to stand, but sit on the ground. Hundreds were collected around. The officer who presided, in an authoritative voice began: ‘Speak the truth in answer to the questions I shall ask. If you speak true, no evil will follow; but if not, your life will not be spared. It is reported that you have committed to the care of a Burmese officer a string of pearls, a pair of diamond earrings, and a silver teapot. Is it true?’ ‘It is not,’ I replied; ‘and if you or any other person can produce these articles, I refuse not to die.’ The officer again urged the necessity of ‘speaking true.’ I told him I had nothing more to say on the subject, but begged he would use his influence to obtain the release of Mr. Judson from prison.“I returned to the house with a heart much lighter than I went, though conscious of my perpetual exposure to such harassments. Notwithstanding the repulse I had met in my application to the queen, I could not remain without making continual efforts for your brother’s release, while there was the least probability of success. Time after time my visits to the queen’s sister-in-law were repeated, till she refused to answer a question, and told me by her looks I had better keep out of her presence. For the seven following months, hardly a day passed that I did not visit some one of the members of Government, or branches of the royal family, in order to gain their influence in our behalf; but the only benefit resulting was, their encouraging promises preserved us from despair, and induced a hope of the speedy termination of our difficulties, which enabled us to bear our distresses better than we otherwise should have done. I ought, however, to mention that, by my repeated visits to the different members of Government, I gained several friends, who were ready to assist me with articles of food, though in a private manner, and who used their influence in the palace to destroy the impression of our being in any way engaged in the present war. But no one dared to speak a word to the king or queen in favor of a foreigner while there were such continual reports of the success of the English arms.“During these seven months, the continual extortions and oppressions to which your brother and the other white prisoners were subject are indescribable. Sometimes sums of money were demanded, sometimes pieces of cloth and handkerchiefs; at other times an order would be issued that the white foreigners should not speak to each other, or have any communication with their friends without. Then, again, the servants were forbidden to carry in their food without an extra fee. Sometimes, for days and days together, I could not go into the prison till after dark, when I had two miles to walk in returning to the house. O, how many, many times have I returned from that dreary prison at nine o’clock at night, solitary, and worn out with fatigue and anxiety, and thrown myself down in that same rocking-chair whichyou and Deacon L. provided for me in Boston, and endeavored to invent some new scheme for the release of the prisoners. Sometimes, for a moment or two, my thoughts would glance toward America, and my beloved friends there; but for nearly a year and a half, so entirely engrossed was every thought with present scenes and sufferings, that I seldom reflected on a single occurrence of my former life, or recollected that I had a friend in existence out of Ava.“The war was now prosecuted with all the energy the Burmese Government possessed. New troops were continually raised and sent down the river, and as frequent reports returned of their being all cut off. But that part of the Burmese army stationed in Arracan, under the command of Bandoola, had been more successful. Three hundred prisoners, at one time, were sent to the capital, as an evidence of the victory that had been gained. The king began to think that none but Bandoola understood the art of fighting with foreigners; consequently, his majesty recalled him, with the design of his taking command of the army that had been sent to Rangoon. On his arrival at Ava, he was received at court in the most flattering manner, and was the recipient of every favor in the power of the king and queen to bestow. He was, in fact, while at Ava, the acting king. I was resolved to apply to him for the release of the missionaries, though some members of Government advised me not, lest he, being reminded of their existence, should issue an immediate order for their execution. But it was my last hope, and, as it proved, my last application.“Your brother wrote a petition privately, stating every circumstance that would have a tendency to interest him in our behalf. With fear and trembling I approached him, while surrounded by a crowd of flatterers; and one of his secretaries took the petition, and read it aloud. After hearing it, he spoke to me in an obliging manner, asked several questions relative to the teachers, said he would think of the subject, and bade me come again. I ran to the prison to communicate the favorable reception to Mr. Judson; and we both had sanguine hopes that his release was at hand. But the governorof the city expressed his amazement at my temerity, and said he doubted not it would be the means of destroying all the prisoners. In a day or two, however, I went again, and took a present of considerable value. Bandoola was not at home, but his lady, after ordering the present to be taken into another room, modestly informed me that she was ordered by her husband to make the following communication: that he was now very busily employed in making preparations for Rangoon; but that when he had retaken that place, and expelled the English, he would return and release all the prisoners.“Thus, again, were all our hopes dashed; and we felt that we could do nothing more but sit down and submit to our lot. From this time we gave up all idea of being released from prison till the termination of the war; but I was still obliged to visit constantly some of the members of Government with little presents, particularly the governor of the city, for the purpose of making the situation of the prisoners tolerable. I generally spent the greater part of every other day at the governor’s house, giving him minute information relative to American manners, customs, government, etc. He used to be so much gratified with my communications as to feel greatly disappointed if any occurrence prevented my spending the usual hours at his house.“Some months after your brother’s imprisonment, I was permitted to make a little bamboo room in the prison enclosure, 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 were the coldest of the year, when he would have suffered much in the open shed he had previously occupied. After the birth of your little niece,[30]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 fatherone 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., 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.“I should have mentioned before this the defeat of Bandoola, his escape to Danooyboo, the complete destruction of his army and loss of ammunition, and the consternation this intelligence produced at court. The English army had left Rangoon, and were advancing toward Prome, when these severe measures were taken with the prisoners.“I went immediately to the governor’s house. He was not at home, but had ordered his wife to tell me, when I came, not to ask to have the additional fetters taken off or the prisoners released, forit could not be done. I went to the prison gate, but was forbidden to enter. All was as still as death—not a white face to be seen, or a vestige of Mr. Judson’s little room remaining. I was determined to see the governor, and know the cause of this additional oppression, and for this purpose returned into town the same evening at an hour I knew he would be at home. He was in his audience-room, and, as I entered, looked up without speaking, but exhibited a mixture of shame and affected anger in his countenance. I began by saying, ‘Your lordship has hitherto treated us with the kindness of a father. Our obligations to you are very great. We have looked to you for protection from oppression and cruelty. You have in many instances mitigated the sufferings of those unfortunate though innocent beings committed to your charge. You have promised me particularly that you would stand by me to the last, and though you should receive an order from the king, you would not put Mr. Judson to death. What crime has he committed to deserve such additional punishment?’ The old man’s hard heart was melted, for he wept like a child. ‘I pity you, Tsa-yah-ga-dau’—a name by which he always called me; ‘I knew you would make me feel; I therefore forbade your application. But you must believe me when I say I do notwish to increase the sufferings of the prisoners. When I am ordered to execute them, the least that I can do is to put them out of sight. I will now tell you,’ continued he, ‘what I have never told you before—that three times I have received intimations from the queen’s brother to assassinate all the white prisoners privately; but I would not do it. And I now repeat it, though I execute all the others, I will never execute your husband. But I can not release him from his present confinement, and you must not ask it.’ I had never seen him manifest so much feeling, or so resolute in denying me a favor, which circumstance was an additional reason for thinking dreadful scenes were before us.“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 obtained 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, looked 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.“It was at this period that the death of Bandoola was announced in the palace. The king heard it with silent amazement, and the queen, in Eastern style, smote upon her breast, and cried, ‘Ama! ama!’ (alas! alas!) Who could be found to fill his place? Who would venture, since the invincible Bandoola had been cut off? Such were the exclamations constantly heard in the streets of Ava. The common people were speakinglowof a rebellion, in case more troops should be levied. For as yet the common people had borne the weight of the war; not a tical had been taken from the royal treasury. At length the pakan-woon, who a few months before had been so far disgraced by the king as to be thrown into prison and irons, now offered himself to head a new army that should be raised on a different plan from those whichhad hitherto been raised, and assured the king, in the most confident manner, that he would conquer the English, and restore those places that had been taken in a very short time. He proposed that every soldier should receive a hundred ticals in advance, and he would obtain security for each man, as the money was to pass through his hands. It was afterward found that he had taken, for his own use, ten ticals from every hundred. He was a man of enterprise and talents, though a violent enemy to all foreigners. His offers were accepted by the king and Government, and all power immediately committed to him. One of the first exercises of his power was to arrest Lanciego and the Portuguese priest, who had hitherto remained unmolested, and cast them into prison, and to subject the native Portuguese and Bengalees to the most menial occupations. The whole town was in alarm lest they should feel the effects of his power; and it was owing to the malignant representations of this man, that the white prisoners suffered such a change in their circumstances as I shall soon relate.“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. Judson 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, etc. I now felt happy indeed, and had Mr. Judson 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.“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 thegate. Igate. Iused to carry Mr. Judson’s food myself, for the sake of getting in, and would then remain an hour or two, unless driven out. We had been in this comfortable situation but two or three days, until, 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 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 me that he only wished to consult me about his watch, and seemed unusually pleasant and conversable. I found afterward 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, and 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 no one would answer me. At length an old woman told me the white prisoners had gone toward the little river; for they were to be carried to Amarapoora. 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 till that morning; that, since I went out, he had learned that the prisoners were to be sent to Amarapoora, 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.’ With a heavy heart I went to my room, and having no hope to exciteme to exertion, I sank down almost in despair. For several days previous, I had been actively engaged in building my own little room, and making our hovel comfortable. My thoughts had been almost entirely occupied in contriving means to get into prison. But now I looked toward the gate with a kind of melancholy feeling, but no wish to enter. All was the stillness of death; no preparation of your brother’s food, no expectation of meeting him at the usual dinner hour; all my employment, all my occupations, seem to have ceased, and I had nothing left but the dreadful recollection that Mr. Judson was carried off, I knew not whither. It was one of the most insupportable days I ever passed. Toward night, however, I came to the determination to set off the next morning for Amarapoora, and for this purpose was obliged to go to our house out of town.“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 till 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 Moung Ing and a Bengalee 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.“On my return to the governor’s, I found a servant of Mr. Gouger, who happened to be near the prison when the foreigners were led out, and followed on to see the end, who informed me that the prisoners had been carried before the lamine-woon, at Amarapoora, and were to be sent the next day to a village he knew not how far distant. My distress was a little relieved by the intelligence that our friend was yet alive; but still I knew not what was to become of him. The next morning I obtained a pass from Government, and with my little Maria, who was then only three monthsold, Mary and Abby Hasseltine, two of the Burman children, and our Bengalee cook, who was the only one of the party that could afford me any assistance, I set off for Amarapoora. The day was dreadfully hot; but we obtained a covered boat, in which we were tolerably comfortable, till 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 court-house, to find that the prisoners had been sent on two hours before, and that I must go in that uncomfortable mode four miles farther 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, Oung-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 the top of the building, trying to make something like a shelter with leaves; while under a little low projection 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 can not live here.’ It was now dark. I had no refreshment for the suffering prisoners, or for myself, as I had expected to procure all that was necessary at the market of Amarapoora, 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 prison; he said, ‘No; it is 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 endeavored 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. Judson’s little room, roughly seized him by the arm, pulled him out, stripped him of all his clothes excepting shirt and pantaloons, took his shoes, hat, and all his bedding, tore off his chains, tied a rope round his waist, and dragged him to the court-house, where the other prisoners had previously been taken. They were then tied two-and-two, and delivered into the hands of the lamine-woon, 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 ardently 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. Judson’s debilitated state, in consequence of fever, and having taken no food that morning, rendered him less capable of bearing such hardships than the other prisoners. When about half-way on their journey, as they stopped for water, your brother begged the lamine-woon 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 ortwo, but then found the additional burden insupportable. Just at that period, Mr. Gouger’s Bengalee servant came up 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. Judson, who was almost carried by him the remainder of the way. Had it not been for the support and assistance of this man, your brother thinks that he should have shared the fate of the poor Greek, who was one of their number, and, when taken out of prison that morning, was in perfect health. But he was a corpulent man, and the sun affected him so much that he fell down on the way. His inhuman drivers beat and dragged him until they themselves were wearied, when they procured a cart, in which he was carried the remaining two miles. But the poor creature expired in an hour or two after their arrival at the court-house. The lamine-woon, 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 Oung-pen-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-woon’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, 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 Oung-pen-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 endeavored to prepare themselves for theawful 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 in an hour or two after this.[31]“The next morning I arose, and endeavored 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 Amarapoora, which, together with a cup of tea from Mr. Lanciego, answered for the breakfast of the prisoners; and for dinner we made a curry of dried salt fish, which a servant of Mr. Gouger 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 Oung-pen-la,and the frequent straits to which we were brought, we never really suffered for the want of money, though frequently for want of provisions, which were not procurable. Here at this place my personal bodily sufferings commenced. The very morning after my arrival, Mary Hasseltine was taken with the small-pox, 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 from 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 neighborhood, or medicine for the sufferers, but was all day long going backward and forward from the house to the prison with little Maria in my arms.“You will recollect I never had the small-pox, 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 small-pox 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 small-pox; 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 alwaysfatal 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 at a stand; after which it attacked me so violently that I had no hopes of recovery left; and my only anxiety now was, to return to Oung-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 laudanum, 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 Oung-pen-la. The last four miles was 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 just reached Oung-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 to 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 Bengalee cook. A common Bengalee 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 of food till near night, in consequence of having to go so far forwood 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 to 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 wants. I now began to think the very afflictions 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 Oung-pen-la, are beyond enumeration or description.“It was some time after our arrival at Oung-pen-la that we heard of the execution of the pakan-woon, in consequence of which our lives were still preserved. For we afterward ascertained that the white foreigners had been sent to Oung-pen-la for the express purpose of sacrificing them; and that he himself intended witnessing the horrid scene. We hadfrequently heard of his intended arrival at Oung-pen-la, but we had no idea of his diabolical purposes. He had raised an army of fifty thousand men (a tenth part of whose advance pay was found in his house), and expected to march against the English army in a short time, when he was suspected of high treason, and instantly executed, without the least examination. Perhaps no death in Ava ever produced such universal rejoicings as that of the pakan-woon. We never, to this day, hear his name mentioned but with an epithet of reproach or hatred. Another brother of the king was appointed to the command of the army now in readiness, but with no very sanguine expectations of success. Some weeks after the departure of these troops, two of the woon-gyees were sent down for the purpose of negotiating. But not being successful, the queen’s brother, theacting kingof the country, was prevailed on to go. Great expectations were raised in consequence; but his cowardice induced him to encamp his detachment of the army at a great distance from the English, and even at a distance from the main body of the Burmese army, whose headquarters were then at Maloun. Thus he effected nothing, though reports were continually reaching us that peace was nearly concluded.“The time at length arrived for our release from the dreary scenes of Oung-pen-la. A messenger from our friend, the governor of the north gate of the palace, 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 thatIshould 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 jailers’ house, where, by promises and threatenings, he finallygained 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 Amarapoora, 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 court-house in Ava, at 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 now was raised to the rank of a woon-gyee. 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 till his affairs were settled. Early the following morning I went to this officer again, who told me that Mr. Judson had that moment received twenty ticals from Government, with orders to go immediately on board a boat for Maloun, and thathehad 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 nights threw him into a violent fever which had nearly ended all his sufferings. He arrived at Maloun on the third day, where, ill as he was, he was obliged to enter immediately on the work of translating. He remained at Maloun six weeks, suffering as much as he had at any time in prison, excepting 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 previously since the commencement of our difficulties. I knew the Burmese officers at the camp would feel the value of Mr. Judson’sservices 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 Oung-pen-la, now daily declined, till I was seized with the 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 attendants, I concluded it must be fatal. The day I was taken with the fever, 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 a 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 Bengalee servant who took care of me to endeavor 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 neighbors, who had come in to see me expire, said, ‘She is dead; and if the King of Angels should come in, He could not recoverher.’her.’“The fever, I afterward 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, debilitatedstate, 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 court-house 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 Oung-pen-la prison. I was too weak to bear ill tidings of any kind; but a shock so dreadful as this almost annihilated me. For some time I could hardly breathe, but at last gained sufficient composure to dispatch Moung Ing to our friend the governor of the north gate, and begged him to makeone more effortfor 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. Moung 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 distresses, as I feared he was already sent to Oung-pen-la.“If ever I 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, andI will hear, and thou 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.“When Mr. Judson was sent from Maloun 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 Yoodthan; we therefore return him to the golden city.’ On arriving at the court-house, there happened to be no one present who wasacquainted with Mr. Judson. The presiding officer inquired from what place he had been sent to Maloun. He was answered, from Oung-pen-la. ‘Let him, then,’ said the officer, ‘be returned thither’; when he was delivered to a guard and conducted to the place above mentioned, there to remain until he could be conveyed to Oung-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 considerable kindness, and to which I was removed as soon as returning health would allow.“The advance of the English army toward the capital at this time threw the whole town into the greatest state of alarm, and convinced the Government that some speedy measures must be taken to save the golden city. They had hitherto rejected all the overtures of Sir Archibald Campbell, imagining, until this late period, that they could in some way or other drive the English from the country. Mr. Judson and Dr. Price were daily called to the palace and consulted; in fact, nothing was done without their approbation. Two English officers, also, who had lately been brought to Ava as prisoners, were continually consulted, and their good offices requested in endeavoring to persuade the British general to make peace on easier terms. It was finally concluded that Mr. Judson and one of the officers above mentioned should be sent immediately to the English camp in order to negotiate. The danger attached to a situation so responsible, under a Government so fickle as the Burmese, induced your brother to use every means possible to prevent his being sent. Dr. Price was not only willing, but desirous of going; this circumstance Mr. Judson represented to the members of Government, and begged he might not be compelled to go, as Dr. Price could transact the business equally as well as himself. After some hesitation and deliberation Dr. Price was appointed to accompany Dr. Sandford, one of the English officers, on condition that Mr. Judson would stand security for his return, while the other English officer, thenin irons, should be security for Dr. Sandford. The king gave them a hundred ticals each to bear their expenses (twenty-five of which Dr. Sandford generously sent to Mr. Gouger, still a prisoner at Oung-pen-la), boats, men, and a Burmese officer to accompany them, though he ventured no farther than the Burman camp. With the most anxious solicitude the court waited the arrival of the messengers, but did not in the least relax in their exertions to fortify the city. Men and beasts were at work night and day, making new stockades and strengthening old ones, and whatever buildings were in their way were immediately torn down. Our house, with all that surrounded it, was levelled to the ground, and our beautiful little compound turned into a road and a place for the erection of cannon. All articles of value were conveyed out of town and safely deposited in some other place.“At length the boat in which the ambassadors had been sent was seen approaching, a day earlier than was expected. As it advanced toward the city, the banks were lined by thousands, anxiously inquiring their success. But no answer was given; the Government must first hear the news. The palace gates were crowded, the officers at the lut-d’hau were seated, when Dr. Price made the following communication: ‘The general and commissioners will make no alteration in their terms, except the hundred lacks [a lack is a hundred thousand] of rupees may be paid at four different times; the first twenty-five lacks to be paid within twelve days, or the army will continue their march.’ In addition to this, the prisoners were to be given up immediately. The general had commissioned Dr. Price to demand Mr. Judson, and myself, and little Maria. This was communicated to the king, who replied: ‘They are not English; they are my people, and shall not go.’ At this time I had no idea that we should ever be released from Ava. The Government had learned the value of your brother’s services, having employed him the last three months; and we both concluded they would never consent to our departure. The foreigners were again called to a consultation, to see what could be done. Dr. Price andMr. Judson told them plainly that the English would never make peace on any other terms than those offered, and that it was in vain to go down again without the money. It was then proposed that a third part of the first sum demanded should be sent down immediately. Mr. Judson objected, and still said it would be useless. Some of the members of Government then intimated that it was probable the teachers were on the side of the English, and did not try to make them take a smaller sum; and also threatened, if they did not make the English comply, they and their families should suffer.“In this interval, the fears of the Government were considerably allayed by the offers of a general, by name Layar-thoo-yah, who desired to make one more attempt to conquer the English, and disperse them. He assured the king and Government that he could so fortify the ancient city of Pugan as to make it impregnable, and that he would there defeat and destroy the English. His offers were heard; he marched to Pugan with a very considerable force, and made strong the fortifications. But the English took the city with perfect ease, and dispersed the Burmese army; while the general fled to Ava, and had the presumption to appear in the presence of the king and demand new troops. The king, being enraged that he had ever listened to him for a moment, in consequence of which the negotiation had been delayed, the English general provoked, and the troops daily advancing, ordered the general to be immediately executed. The poor fellow was soon hurled from the palace, and beat all the way to the court-house, when he was stripped of his rich apparel, bound with cords, and made to kneel and bow toward the palace. He was then delivered into the hands of the executioners, who, by their cruel treatment, put an end to his existence before they reached the place of execution.“The king caused it to be reported that this general was executed in consequence of disobeying his commands ‘not to fight the English.’“Dr. Price was sent off the same night, with part of the prisoners, and with instructions to persuade the general totake six lacks instead of twenty-five. He returned in two or three days, with the appalling intelligence that the English general was very angry, refused to have any communication with him, and was now within a few days’ march of the capital. The queen was greatly alarmed, and said the money should be raised immediately, if the English would only stop their march. The whole palace was in motion; gold and silver vessels were melted up; the king and queen superintended the weighing of a part of it, and were determined, if possible, to save their city. The silver was ready in the boats by the next evening; but they had so little confidence in the English, that, after all their alarm, they concluded to send down six lacks only, with the assurance that, if the English would stop where they then were, the remainder should be forthcoming immediately.“The Government now did not even ask Mr. Judson the question whether he would go or not; but some of the officers took him by the arm, as he was walking in the street, and told him he must go immediately on board the boat, to accompany two Burmese officers, a woon-gyee and woon-douk, who were going down to make peace. Most of the English prisoners were sent at the same time. The general and commissioners would not receive the six lacks, neither would they stop their march; but promised, if the sum complete reached them before they should arrive at Ava, they would make peace. The general also commissioned Mr. Judson to collect the remaining foreigners, of whatever country, and ask the question, before the Burmese Government, whether they wished to go or stay. Those who expressed a wish to go should be delivered up immediately, or peace would not be made.“Mr. Judson reached Ava at midnight, had all the foreigners called the next morning, and the question asked. Some of the members of Government said to him, ‘You will not leave us; you shall become a great man if you will remain.’ He then secured himself from the odium of saying that he wished to leave the service of his majesty, by recurring to the order of Sir Archibald, that whoever wished to leave Avashould be given up, and that I had expressed a wish to go, so that he of course must follow. The remaining part of the twenty-five lacks was soon collected; the prisoners at Oung-pen-la were all released, and either sent to their houses, or down the river to the English; and in two days from the time of Mr. Judson’s return, we took an affectionate leave of the good-natured officer who had so long entertained us at his house, and who now accompanied us to the waterside, and we then left forever the banks of Ava.“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. The thought that we had still to pass the Burman camp would sometimes occur to damp our joy, for we feared that some obstacle might there arise to retard our progress. Nor were we mistaken in our conjectures. We reached the camp about midnight, where we were detained two hours; the woon-gyee and high officers insisting thatweshould wait at the camp, while Dr. Price, who did not return to Ava with your brother, but remained at the camp, should go on with the money, and first ascertain whether peace would be made. The Burmese Government still entertained the idea that, as soon as the English had received the money and prisoners, they would continue their march, and yet destroy the capital. We knew not but that some circumstance might occur to break off the negotiations. Mr. Judson therefore strenuously insisted that he would not remain, but go on immediately. The officers were finally prevailed on to consent, hoping much from Mr. Judson’s assistance in making peace.“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 behold 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 ourarrival, and invited us on board the steamboat, where I passed the remainder of the day; while your brother went on to meet the general, who, with a detachment of the army, had encamped at Yandabo, 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.“We feel that our obligations to General Campbell can never be cancelled. Our final release from Ava, and our recovering all the property that had there been taken, was owing entirely to his efforts. His subsequent hospitality, and kind attention to the accommodations for our passage to Rangoon, have left an impression on our minds which can never be effaced. We daily received the congratulation of the British officers, whose conduct toward us formed a striking contrast to that of the Burmese. I presume to say that no persons on earth were ever happier than we were during the fortnight we passed at the English camp. 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 this: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 Yandabo after a fortnight’s residence, and safely reached the mission-house in Rangoon after an absence of two years and three months.“A review of our trip to and adventures in Ava often excites the inquiry, Why were we permitted to go? What good has been effected? Why did I not listen to the advice of friends in Bengal, and remain there till the war was concluded? But all that we can say is,It is not in man that walketh to direct his steps. So far as my going round to Rangoon,at the time I did, was instrumental in bringing those heavy afflictions upon us, I can only state that, if I ever acted from a sense of duty in my life, it was at that time; for my conscience would not allow me any peace when I thought of sending for your brother to come to Calcutta, in prospect of the approaching war. Our society at home have lost no property in consequence of our difficulties; but two years of precious time have been lost to the mission, unless some future advantage may be gained in consequence of the severe discipline to which we ourselves have been subject. We are sometimes induced to think that the lesson we found so very hard to learn will have a beneficial effect through our lives, and that the mission may, in the end, be advanced rather than retarded.“We should have had no hesitation about remaining in Ava if no part of the Burmese empire had been ceded to the British. But as it was, we felt it would be an unnecessary exposure, besides the missionary field being much more limited in consequence of intoleration. We now consider our future missionary prospects as bright indeed; and our only anxiety is to be once more in that situation where our time will be exclusively devoted to the instruction of the heathen.“From the date at the commencement of this long letter you see, my dear brother, that my patience has continued for two months. I have frequently been induced to throw it aside altogether; but feeling assured that you and my other friends are expecting something of this kind, I am induced to send it, with all its imperfections. This letter, dreadful as are the scenes herein described, gives you but a faint idea of the awful reality. The anguish, the agony of mind, resulting from a thousand little circumstances impossible to be delineated on paper, can be known by those only who have been in similar situations. Pray for us, my dear brother and sister, that these heavy afflictions may not be in vain, but may be blessed to our spiritual good and the advancement of Christ’s cause among the heathen.”
“Rangoon,May26, 1826.
“Rangoon,May26, 1826.
“Rangoon,May26, 1826.
“I commence this letter with the intention of giving you the particulars of our captivity and sufferings at Ava. 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 had transpired from our arrival at Ava, 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 Tsen-pyoo-kywon, about a hundred miles this side of Ava, where part of the troops under the command of the celebrated Bandoola had encamped. As we proceeded on our journey, we met Bandoola himself with the remainder of his troops, gaily equipped, seated on his golden barge, and surrounded by a fleet of golden war-boats, one of which was instantly dispatched from the other side of the river to hail us, and make all necessary inquiries. We were allowed to proceed quietly on, when we had informed the messenger that we were Americans,not English, and were going to Ava in obedience to the command of his majesty.
“On our arrival at the capital, we found that Dr. Price was out of favor at court, and that suspicion rested on most of the foreigners then at Ava. 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 theirown 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 occasions offered, thus endeavoring 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 Amarapoora, in order to come and take possession of the new palace in the customary style. As there has been much misunderstanding relative to Ava and Amarapoora, both being called the capital of the Burmese empire, I will here remark that the present Ava was formerly the seat of Government; but soon after the old king had ascended the throne, it was forsaken, and a new palace built at Amarapoora, about six miles from Ava, in which he remained during his life. In the fourth year of the reign of the present king, Amarapoora was in its turn forsaken, and a new and beautiful palace built at Ava, which wasthenin ruins, but isnow the capitalof the Burmese empire. The king and royal family had been living in temporary buildings at Ava, during the completion of the new palace, which gave occasion for their returning to Amarapoora.
“For several weeks nothing took place to alarm us, and we went on with our school. Mr. Judson 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 23d of May, 1824, just as we had 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. Gouger, a young merchant residing at Ava, 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 Thah-ya-wa-dee, the king’s most influential brother, who informed him he need not give himselfany uneasiness, as he had mentioned the subject to his majesty, who had replied, that ‘the few foreigners residing at Ava 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 kyee-woon-gyee, were sent off in three or four days, and were to be joined by the sakyah-woon-gyee, 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 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 of the palace, ‘six kala-pyoos [white strangers] to row my boat.’ ‘And to me,’ said the lady of a woon-gyee, ‘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 joyous kind. ‘Poor fellows!’ said we, ‘you will probably never dance again.’ And it so proved, for few, if any, ever again saw their native home.
“As soon as the army were dispatched, the Government began to inquire the cause of the arrival of the strangers at Rangoon. There must be spies in the country, suggested some, who had invited them over. And who so likely to be spies as the Englishmen residing at Ava? A report was in circulation that Captain Laird, lately arrived, had brought Bengal papers which contained the intention of the English to take Rangoon, and it was kept a secret from his majesty. An inquiry was instituted. The three Englishmen, Gouger, Laird, and Rogers, were called and examined. It was found they had seen the papers, and were put in confinement, though not in prison. We now began to tremble for ourselves, and were in daily expectation of some dreadful event.
“At length Mr. Judson and Dr. Price were summoned toa 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, 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. Gouger, it was found that Mr. Judson 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 dozenBurmans,Burmans,accompanied byone, 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 till 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 Bengalee servants stood in amazement at the indignities offered their master; and the hardened executioner, with a kind of 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 spottedface to take the silver, and loosen the ropes; but he spurned my offers, and immediately departed. I gave the money, however, to Moung Ing 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 court-house, where the governor of the city and 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 Moung Ing saw no more. What a night was now before me! I retired into my room, and endeavored 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 to 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 endeavored 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 Bengalee servants, and confined them in the stocks in a very painful position. I could not endure this, but called the head man to the window, and promised tomake 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 Moung 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 afterward 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 endeavored 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 obtaining any quiet sleep, though nature was almost exhausted.
“On the third day I sent a message to the governor of the city, who has the entire direction of prison affairs, to allowme 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 assemblage of all the evil passions attached to human nature, took me aside and endeavored 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 thatwretched, horridsituation, and the affecting scene which ensued, I will not attempt to describe.[29]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 from 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 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 was 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 favor. 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; they are ministers of religion, have nothing to do with war or politics, and came toAva 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 to-morrow.’ 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 rupees, was taken and carried to the palace. The officers, on their return, politely informed me they shouldvisit our houseon 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, the governor of the north gate of the palace, who was in future our steady friend, and another nobleman, 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 apologized for what they were about to do by saying it was painful for them to take possession of property not their own, but they were compelled thus to do byorder of the king. ‘Where are 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 akyoung[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 Burmese 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 is this 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 queen’s brother to hear what had been 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 thunder-clap 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, and 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, medicines, trunks of wearing apparel, etc., 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 in allusion to the idea of his being a spy.
“For two or three months following, I was subject to continual harassments, partly through my ignorance of police management, and partly through the insatiable desire of every petty officer to enrich himself through our misfortunes. When the officers came to our house to confiscate our property, they insisted on knowing how much I had given the governor and prison officers to release the teachers from the inner prison. I honestly told them, and they demanded the sum from the governor, which threw him into a dreadful rage, and he threatened to put all the prisoners back into their original place. I went to him the next morning, and the first words with which he accosted me were, ‘You are very bad; why did you tell the royal treasurer that you had given me so much money?’ ‘The treasurer inquired; what could I say?’ I replied. Say that you had given nothing,’ said he, ‘and I would have made the teachers comfortablein prison; but now I know not what will be their fate.’ ‘But I can not tell a falsehood,’ I replied; ‘my religion differs from yours; it forbids prevarication; and had you stood by me with your knife raised, I could not have said what you suggest.’ His wife, who sat by his side, and who always, from this time, continued my firm friend, instantly said, ‘Very true; what else could she have done? I like such straightforward conduct; you must not,’ turning to the governor, ‘be angry with her.’ I then presented the governor with a beautiful opera-glass I had just received from England, and begged his anger at me would not influence him to treat the prisoners with unkindness, and I would endeavor, from time to time, to make him such presents as would compensate for his loss. ‘You may intercede for your husband only; for your sake he shall remain where he is; but let the other prisoners take care of themselves.’ I pleaded hard for Dr. Price; but he would not listen, and, the same day, had him returned to the inner prison, where he remained ten days. He was then taken out, in consequence of the doctor’s promising a piece of broadcloth, and my sending two pieces of handkerchiefs.
“About this period I was one day summoned to the Lut-d’hau in an official way. What new evil was before me I knew not, but was obliged to go. When arrived, I was allowed tostandat the bottom of the stairs, as no female is permitted to ascend the steps, or even to stand, but sit on the ground. Hundreds were collected around. The officer who presided, in an authoritative voice began: ‘Speak the truth in answer to the questions I shall ask. If you speak true, no evil will follow; but if not, your life will not be spared. It is reported that you have committed to the care of a Burmese officer a string of pearls, a pair of diamond earrings, and a silver teapot. Is it true?’ ‘It is not,’ I replied; ‘and if you or any other person can produce these articles, I refuse not to die.’ The officer again urged the necessity of ‘speaking true.’ I told him I had nothing more to say on the subject, but begged he would use his influence to obtain the release of Mr. Judson from prison.
“I returned to the house with a heart much lighter than I went, though conscious of my perpetual exposure to such harassments. Notwithstanding the repulse I had met in my application to the queen, I could not remain without making continual efforts for your brother’s release, while there was the least probability of success. Time after time my visits to the queen’s sister-in-law were repeated, till she refused to answer a question, and told me by her looks I had better keep out of her presence. For the seven following months, hardly a day passed that I did not visit some one of the members of Government, or branches of the royal family, in order to gain their influence in our behalf; but the only benefit resulting was, their encouraging promises preserved us from despair, and induced a hope of the speedy termination of our difficulties, which enabled us to bear our distresses better than we otherwise should have done. I ought, however, to mention that, by my repeated visits to the different members of Government, I gained several friends, who were ready to assist me with articles of food, though in a private manner, and who used their influence in the palace to destroy the impression of our being in any way engaged in the present war. But no one dared to speak a word to the king or queen in favor of a foreigner while there were such continual reports of the success of the English arms.
“During these seven months, the continual extortions and oppressions to which your brother and the other white prisoners were subject are indescribable. Sometimes sums of money were demanded, sometimes pieces of cloth and handkerchiefs; at other times an order would be issued that the white foreigners should not speak to each other, or have any communication with their friends without. Then, again, the servants were forbidden to carry in their food without an extra fee. Sometimes, for days and days together, I could not go into the prison till after dark, when I had two miles to walk in returning to the house. O, how many, many times have I returned from that dreary prison at nine o’clock at night, solitary, and worn out with fatigue and anxiety, and thrown myself down in that same rocking-chair whichyou and Deacon L. provided for me in Boston, and endeavored to invent some new scheme for the release of the prisoners. Sometimes, for a moment or two, my thoughts would glance toward America, and my beloved friends there; but for nearly a year and a half, so entirely engrossed was every thought with present scenes and sufferings, that I seldom reflected on a single occurrence of my former life, or recollected that I had a friend in existence out of Ava.
“The war was now prosecuted with all the energy the Burmese Government possessed. New troops were continually raised and sent down the river, and as frequent reports returned of their being all cut off. But that part of the Burmese army stationed in Arracan, under the command of Bandoola, had been more successful. Three hundred prisoners, at one time, were sent to the capital, as an evidence of the victory that had been gained. The king began to think that none but Bandoola understood the art of fighting with foreigners; consequently, his majesty recalled him, with the design of his taking command of the army that had been sent to Rangoon. On his arrival at Ava, he was received at court in the most flattering manner, and was the recipient of every favor in the power of the king and queen to bestow. He was, in fact, while at Ava, the acting king. I was resolved to apply to him for the release of the missionaries, though some members of Government advised me not, lest he, being reminded of their existence, should issue an immediate order for their execution. But it was my last hope, and, as it proved, my last application.
“Your brother wrote a petition privately, stating every circumstance that would have a tendency to interest him in our behalf. With fear and trembling I approached him, while surrounded by a crowd of flatterers; and one of his secretaries took the petition, and read it aloud. After hearing it, he spoke to me in an obliging manner, asked several questions relative to the teachers, said he would think of the subject, and bade me come again. I ran to the prison to communicate the favorable reception to Mr. Judson; and we both had sanguine hopes that his release was at hand. But the governorof the city expressed his amazement at my temerity, and said he doubted not it would be the means of destroying all the prisoners. In a day or two, however, I went again, and took a present of considerable value. Bandoola was not at home, but his lady, after ordering the present to be taken into another room, modestly informed me that she was ordered by her husband to make the following communication: that he was now very busily employed in making preparations for Rangoon; but that when he had retaken that place, and expelled the English, he would return and release all the prisoners.
“Thus, again, were all our hopes dashed; and we felt that we could do nothing more but sit down and submit to our lot. From this time we gave up all idea of being released from prison till the termination of the war; but I was still obliged to visit constantly some of the members of Government with little presents, particularly the governor of the city, for the purpose of making the situation of the prisoners tolerable. I generally spent the greater part of every other day at the governor’s house, giving him minute information relative to American manners, customs, government, etc. He used to be so much gratified with my communications as to feel greatly disappointed if any occurrence prevented my spending the usual hours at his house.
“Some months after your brother’s imprisonment, I was permitted to make a little bamboo room in the prison enclosure, 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 were the coldest of the year, when he would have suffered much in the open shed he had previously occupied. After the birth of your little niece,[30]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 fatherone 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., 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.
“I should have mentioned before this the defeat of Bandoola, his escape to Danooyboo, the complete destruction of his army and loss of ammunition, and the consternation this intelligence produced at court. The English army had left Rangoon, and were advancing toward Prome, when these severe measures were taken with the prisoners.
“I went immediately to the governor’s house. He was not at home, but had ordered his wife to tell me, when I came, not to ask to have the additional fetters taken off or the prisoners released, forit could not be done. I went to the prison gate, but was forbidden to enter. All was as still as death—not a white face to be seen, or a vestige of Mr. Judson’s little room remaining. I was determined to see the governor, and know the cause of this additional oppression, and for this purpose returned into town the same evening at an hour I knew he would be at home. He was in his audience-room, and, as I entered, looked up without speaking, but exhibited a mixture of shame and affected anger in his countenance. I began by saying, ‘Your lordship has hitherto treated us with the kindness of a father. Our obligations to you are very great. We have looked to you for protection from oppression and cruelty. You have in many instances mitigated the sufferings of those unfortunate though innocent beings committed to your charge. You have promised me particularly that you would stand by me to the last, and though you should receive an order from the king, you would not put Mr. Judson to death. What crime has he committed to deserve such additional punishment?’ The old man’s hard heart was melted, for he wept like a child. ‘I pity you, Tsa-yah-ga-dau’—a name by which he always called me; ‘I knew you would make me feel; I therefore forbade your application. But you must believe me when I say I do notwish to increase the sufferings of the prisoners. When I am ordered to execute them, the least that I can do is to put them out of sight. I will now tell you,’ continued he, ‘what I have never told you before—that three times I have received intimations from the queen’s brother to assassinate all the white prisoners privately; but I would not do it. And I now repeat it, though I execute all the others, I will never execute your husband. But I can not release him from his present confinement, and you must not ask it.’ I had never seen him manifest so much feeling, or so resolute in denying me a favor, which circumstance was an additional reason for thinking dreadful scenes were before us.
“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 obtained 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, looked 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.
“It was at this period that the death of Bandoola was announced in the palace. The king heard it with silent amazement, and the queen, in Eastern style, smote upon her breast, and cried, ‘Ama! ama!’ (alas! alas!) Who could be found to fill his place? Who would venture, since the invincible Bandoola had been cut off? Such were the exclamations constantly heard in the streets of Ava. The common people were speakinglowof a rebellion, in case more troops should be levied. For as yet the common people had borne the weight of the war; not a tical had been taken from the royal treasury. At length the pakan-woon, who a few months before had been so far disgraced by the king as to be thrown into prison and irons, now offered himself to head a new army that should be raised on a different plan from those whichhad hitherto been raised, and assured the king, in the most confident manner, that he would conquer the English, and restore those places that had been taken in a very short time. He proposed that every soldier should receive a hundred ticals in advance, and he would obtain security for each man, as the money was to pass through his hands. It was afterward found that he had taken, for his own use, ten ticals from every hundred. He was a man of enterprise and talents, though a violent enemy to all foreigners. His offers were accepted by the king and Government, and all power immediately committed to him. One of the first exercises of his power was to arrest Lanciego and the Portuguese priest, who had hitherto remained unmolested, and cast them into prison, and to subject the native Portuguese and Bengalees to the most menial occupations. The whole town was in alarm lest they should feel the effects of his power; and it was owing to the malignant representations of this man, that the white prisoners suffered such a change in their circumstances as I shall soon relate.
“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. Judson 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, etc. I now felt happy indeed, and had Mr. Judson 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.
“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 thegate. Igate. Iused to carry Mr. Judson’s food myself, for the sake of getting in, and would then remain an hour or two, unless driven out. We had been in this comfortable situation but two or three days, until, 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 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 me that he only wished to consult me about his watch, and seemed unusually pleasant and conversable. I found afterward 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, and 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 no one would answer me. At length an old woman told me the white prisoners had gone toward the little river; for they were to be carried to Amarapoora. 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 till that morning; that, since I went out, he had learned that the prisoners were to be sent to Amarapoora, 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.’ With a heavy heart I went to my room, and having no hope to exciteme to exertion, I sank down almost in despair. For several days previous, I had been actively engaged in building my own little room, and making our hovel comfortable. My thoughts had been almost entirely occupied in contriving means to get into prison. But now I looked toward the gate with a kind of melancholy feeling, but no wish to enter. All was the stillness of death; no preparation of your brother’s food, no expectation of meeting him at the usual dinner hour; all my employment, all my occupations, seem to have ceased, and I had nothing left but the dreadful recollection that Mr. Judson was carried off, I knew not whither. It was one of the most insupportable days I ever passed. Toward night, however, I came to the determination to set off the next morning for Amarapoora, and for this purpose was obliged to go to our house out of town.
“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 till 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 Moung Ing and a Bengalee 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.
“On my return to the governor’s, I found a servant of Mr. Gouger, who happened to be near the prison when the foreigners were led out, and followed on to see the end, who informed me that the prisoners had been carried before the lamine-woon, at Amarapoora, and were to be sent the next day to a village he knew not how far distant. My distress was a little relieved by the intelligence that our friend was yet alive; but still I knew not what was to become of him. The next morning I obtained a pass from Government, and with my little Maria, who was then only three monthsold, Mary and Abby Hasseltine, two of the Burman children, and our Bengalee cook, who was the only one of the party that could afford me any assistance, I set off for Amarapoora. The day was dreadfully hot; but we obtained a covered boat, in which we were tolerably comfortable, till 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 court-house, to find that the prisoners had been sent on two hours before, and that I must go in that uncomfortable mode four miles farther 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, Oung-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 the top of the building, trying to make something like a shelter with leaves; while under a little low projection 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 can not live here.’ It was now dark. I had no refreshment for the suffering prisoners, or for myself, as I had expected to procure all that was necessary at the market of Amarapoora, 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 prison; he said, ‘No; it is 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 endeavored 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. Judson’s little room, roughly seized him by the arm, pulled him out, stripped him of all his clothes excepting shirt and pantaloons, took his shoes, hat, and all his bedding, tore off his chains, tied a rope round his waist, and dragged him to the court-house, where the other prisoners had previously been taken. They were then tied two-and-two, and delivered into the hands of the lamine-woon, 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 ardently 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. Judson’s debilitated state, in consequence of fever, and having taken no food that morning, rendered him less capable of bearing such hardships than the other prisoners. When about half-way on their journey, as they stopped for water, your brother begged the lamine-woon 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 ortwo, but then found the additional burden insupportable. Just at that period, Mr. Gouger’s Bengalee servant came up 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. Judson, who was almost carried by him the remainder of the way. Had it not been for the support and assistance of this man, your brother thinks that he should have shared the fate of the poor Greek, who was one of their number, and, when taken out of prison that morning, was in perfect health. But he was a corpulent man, and the sun affected him so much that he fell down on the way. His inhuman drivers beat and dragged him until they themselves were wearied, when they procured a cart, in which he was carried the remaining two miles. But the poor creature expired in an hour or two after their arrival at the court-house. The lamine-woon, 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 Oung-pen-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-woon’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, 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 Oung-pen-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 endeavored to prepare themselves for theawful 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 in an hour or two after this.[31]
“The next morning I arose, and endeavored 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 Amarapoora, which, together with a cup of tea from Mr. Lanciego, answered for the breakfast of the prisoners; and for dinner we made a curry of dried salt fish, which a servant of Mr. Gouger 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 Oung-pen-la,and the frequent straits to which we were brought, we never really suffered for the want of money, though frequently for want of provisions, which were not procurable. Here at this place my personal bodily sufferings commenced. The very morning after my arrival, Mary Hasseltine was taken with the small-pox, 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 from 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 neighborhood, or medicine for the sufferers, but was all day long going backward and forward from the house to the prison with little Maria in my arms.
“You will recollect I never had the small-pox, 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 small-pox 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 small-pox; 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 alwaysfatal 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 at a stand; after which it attacked me so violently that I had no hopes of recovery left; and my only anxiety now was, to return to Oung-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 laudanum, 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 Oung-pen-la. The last four miles was 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 just reached Oung-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 to 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 Bengalee cook. A common Bengalee 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 of food till near night, in consequence of having to go so far forwood 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 to 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 wants. I now began to think the very afflictions 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 Oung-pen-la, are beyond enumeration or description.
“It was some time after our arrival at Oung-pen-la that we heard of the execution of the pakan-woon, in consequence of which our lives were still preserved. For we afterward ascertained that the white foreigners had been sent to Oung-pen-la for the express purpose of sacrificing them; and that he himself intended witnessing the horrid scene. We hadfrequently heard of his intended arrival at Oung-pen-la, but we had no idea of his diabolical purposes. He had raised an army of fifty thousand men (a tenth part of whose advance pay was found in his house), and expected to march against the English army in a short time, when he was suspected of high treason, and instantly executed, without the least examination. Perhaps no death in Ava ever produced such universal rejoicings as that of the pakan-woon. We never, to this day, hear his name mentioned but with an epithet of reproach or hatred. Another brother of the king was appointed to the command of the army now in readiness, but with no very sanguine expectations of success. Some weeks after the departure of these troops, two of the woon-gyees were sent down for the purpose of negotiating. But not being successful, the queen’s brother, theacting kingof the country, was prevailed on to go. Great expectations were raised in consequence; but his cowardice induced him to encamp his detachment of the army at a great distance from the English, and even at a distance from the main body of the Burmese army, whose headquarters were then at Maloun. Thus he effected nothing, though reports were continually reaching us that peace was nearly concluded.
“The time at length arrived for our release from the dreary scenes of Oung-pen-la. A messenger from our friend, the governor of the north gate of the palace, 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 thatIshould 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 jailers’ house, where, by promises and threatenings, he finallygained 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 Amarapoora, 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 court-house in Ava, at 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 now was raised to the rank of a woon-gyee. 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 till his affairs were settled. Early the following morning I went to this officer again, who told me that Mr. Judson had that moment received twenty ticals from Government, with orders to go immediately on board a boat for Maloun, and thathehad 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 nights threw him into a violent fever which had nearly ended all his sufferings. He arrived at Maloun on the third day, where, ill as he was, he was obliged to enter immediately on the work of translating. He remained at Maloun six weeks, suffering as much as he had at any time in prison, excepting 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 previously since the commencement of our difficulties. I knew the Burmese officers at the camp would feel the value of Mr. Judson’sservices 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 Oung-pen-la, now daily declined, till I was seized with the 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 attendants, I concluded it must be fatal. The day I was taken with the fever, 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 a 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 Bengalee servant who took care of me to endeavor 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 neighbors, who had come in to see me expire, said, ‘She is dead; and if the King of Angels should come in, He could not recoverher.’her.’
“The fever, I afterward 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, debilitatedstate, 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 court-house 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 Oung-pen-la prison. I was too weak to bear ill tidings of any kind; but a shock so dreadful as this almost annihilated me. For some time I could hardly breathe, but at last gained sufficient composure to dispatch Moung Ing to our friend the governor of the north gate, and begged him to makeone more effortfor 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. Moung 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 distresses, as I feared he was already sent to Oung-pen-la.
“If ever I 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, andI will hear, and thou 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.
“When Mr. Judson was sent from Maloun 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 Yoodthan; we therefore return him to the golden city.’ On arriving at the court-house, there happened to be no one present who wasacquainted with Mr. Judson. The presiding officer inquired from what place he had been sent to Maloun. He was answered, from Oung-pen-la. ‘Let him, then,’ said the officer, ‘be returned thither’; when he was delivered to a guard and conducted to the place above mentioned, there to remain until he could be conveyed to Oung-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 considerable kindness, and to which I was removed as soon as returning health would allow.
“The advance of the English army toward the capital at this time threw the whole town into the greatest state of alarm, and convinced the Government that some speedy measures must be taken to save the golden city. They had hitherto rejected all the overtures of Sir Archibald Campbell, imagining, until this late period, that they could in some way or other drive the English from the country. Mr. Judson and Dr. Price were daily called to the palace and consulted; in fact, nothing was done without their approbation. Two English officers, also, who had lately been brought to Ava as prisoners, were continually consulted, and their good offices requested in endeavoring to persuade the British general to make peace on easier terms. It was finally concluded that Mr. Judson and one of the officers above mentioned should be sent immediately to the English camp in order to negotiate. The danger attached to a situation so responsible, under a Government so fickle as the Burmese, induced your brother to use every means possible to prevent his being sent. Dr. Price was not only willing, but desirous of going; this circumstance Mr. Judson represented to the members of Government, and begged he might not be compelled to go, as Dr. Price could transact the business equally as well as himself. After some hesitation and deliberation Dr. Price was appointed to accompany Dr. Sandford, one of the English officers, on condition that Mr. Judson would stand security for his return, while the other English officer, thenin irons, should be security for Dr. Sandford. The king gave them a hundred ticals each to bear their expenses (twenty-five of which Dr. Sandford generously sent to Mr. Gouger, still a prisoner at Oung-pen-la), boats, men, and a Burmese officer to accompany them, though he ventured no farther than the Burman camp. With the most anxious solicitude the court waited the arrival of the messengers, but did not in the least relax in their exertions to fortify the city. Men and beasts were at work night and day, making new stockades and strengthening old ones, and whatever buildings were in their way were immediately torn down. Our house, with all that surrounded it, was levelled to the ground, and our beautiful little compound turned into a road and a place for the erection of cannon. All articles of value were conveyed out of town and safely deposited in some other place.
“At length the boat in which the ambassadors had been sent was seen approaching, a day earlier than was expected. As it advanced toward the city, the banks were lined by thousands, anxiously inquiring their success. But no answer was given; the Government must first hear the news. The palace gates were crowded, the officers at the lut-d’hau were seated, when Dr. Price made the following communication: ‘The general and commissioners will make no alteration in their terms, except the hundred lacks [a lack is a hundred thousand] of rupees may be paid at four different times; the first twenty-five lacks to be paid within twelve days, or the army will continue their march.’ In addition to this, the prisoners were to be given up immediately. The general had commissioned Dr. Price to demand Mr. Judson, and myself, and little Maria. This was communicated to the king, who replied: ‘They are not English; they are my people, and shall not go.’ At this time I had no idea that we should ever be released from Ava. The Government had learned the value of your brother’s services, having employed him the last three months; and we both concluded they would never consent to our departure. The foreigners were again called to a consultation, to see what could be done. Dr. Price andMr. Judson told them plainly that the English would never make peace on any other terms than those offered, and that it was in vain to go down again without the money. It was then proposed that a third part of the first sum demanded should be sent down immediately. Mr. Judson objected, and still said it would be useless. Some of the members of Government then intimated that it was probable the teachers were on the side of the English, and did not try to make them take a smaller sum; and also threatened, if they did not make the English comply, they and their families should suffer.
“In this interval, the fears of the Government were considerably allayed by the offers of a general, by name Layar-thoo-yah, who desired to make one more attempt to conquer the English, and disperse them. He assured the king and Government that he could so fortify the ancient city of Pugan as to make it impregnable, and that he would there defeat and destroy the English. His offers were heard; he marched to Pugan with a very considerable force, and made strong the fortifications. But the English took the city with perfect ease, and dispersed the Burmese army; while the general fled to Ava, and had the presumption to appear in the presence of the king and demand new troops. The king, being enraged that he had ever listened to him for a moment, in consequence of which the negotiation had been delayed, the English general provoked, and the troops daily advancing, ordered the general to be immediately executed. The poor fellow was soon hurled from the palace, and beat all the way to the court-house, when he was stripped of his rich apparel, bound with cords, and made to kneel and bow toward the palace. He was then delivered into the hands of the executioners, who, by their cruel treatment, put an end to his existence before they reached the place of execution.
“The king caused it to be reported that this general was executed in consequence of disobeying his commands ‘not to fight the English.’
“Dr. Price was sent off the same night, with part of the prisoners, and with instructions to persuade the general totake six lacks instead of twenty-five. He returned in two or three days, with the appalling intelligence that the English general was very angry, refused to have any communication with him, and was now within a few days’ march of the capital. The queen was greatly alarmed, and said the money should be raised immediately, if the English would only stop their march. The whole palace was in motion; gold and silver vessels were melted up; the king and queen superintended the weighing of a part of it, and were determined, if possible, to save their city. The silver was ready in the boats by the next evening; but they had so little confidence in the English, that, after all their alarm, they concluded to send down six lacks only, with the assurance that, if the English would stop where they then were, the remainder should be forthcoming immediately.
“The Government now did not even ask Mr. Judson the question whether he would go or not; but some of the officers took him by the arm, as he was walking in the street, and told him he must go immediately on board the boat, to accompany two Burmese officers, a woon-gyee and woon-douk, who were going down to make peace. Most of the English prisoners were sent at the same time. The general and commissioners would not receive the six lacks, neither would they stop their march; but promised, if the sum complete reached them before they should arrive at Ava, they would make peace. The general also commissioned Mr. Judson to collect the remaining foreigners, of whatever country, and ask the question, before the Burmese Government, whether they wished to go or stay. Those who expressed a wish to go should be delivered up immediately, or peace would not be made.
“Mr. Judson reached Ava at midnight, had all the foreigners called the next morning, and the question asked. Some of the members of Government said to him, ‘You will not leave us; you shall become a great man if you will remain.’ He then secured himself from the odium of saying that he wished to leave the service of his majesty, by recurring to the order of Sir Archibald, that whoever wished to leave Avashould be given up, and that I had expressed a wish to go, so that he of course must follow. The remaining part of the twenty-five lacks was soon collected; the prisoners at Oung-pen-la were all released, and either sent to their houses, or down the river to the English; and in two days from the time of Mr. Judson’s return, we took an affectionate leave of the good-natured officer who had so long entertained us at his house, and who now accompanied us to the waterside, and we then left forever the banks of Ava.
“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. The thought that we had still to pass the Burman camp would sometimes occur to damp our joy, for we feared that some obstacle might there arise to retard our progress. Nor were we mistaken in our conjectures. We reached the camp about midnight, where we were detained two hours; the woon-gyee and high officers insisting thatweshould wait at the camp, while Dr. Price, who did not return to Ava with your brother, but remained at the camp, should go on with the money, and first ascertain whether peace would be made. The Burmese Government still entertained the idea that, as soon as the English had received the money and prisoners, they would continue their march, and yet destroy the capital. We knew not but that some circumstance might occur to break off the negotiations. Mr. Judson therefore strenuously insisted that he would not remain, but go on immediately. The officers were finally prevailed on to consent, hoping much from Mr. Judson’s assistance in making peace.
“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 behold 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 ourarrival, and invited us on board the steamboat, where I passed the remainder of the day; while your brother went on to meet the general, who, with a detachment of the army, had encamped at Yandabo, 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.
“We feel that our obligations to General Campbell can never be cancelled. Our final release from Ava, and our recovering all the property that had there been taken, was owing entirely to his efforts. His subsequent hospitality, and kind attention to the accommodations for our passage to Rangoon, have left an impression on our minds which can never be effaced. We daily received the congratulation of the British officers, whose conduct toward us formed a striking contrast to that of the Burmese. I presume to say that no persons on earth were ever happier than we were during the fortnight we passed at the English camp. 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 this: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 Yandabo after a fortnight’s residence, and safely reached the mission-house in Rangoon after an absence of two years and three months.
“A review of our trip to and adventures in Ava often excites the inquiry, Why were we permitted to go? What good has been effected? Why did I not listen to the advice of friends in Bengal, and remain there till the war was concluded? But all that we can say is,It is not in man that walketh to direct his steps. So far as my going round to Rangoon,at the time I did, was instrumental in bringing those heavy afflictions upon us, I can only state that, if I ever acted from a sense of duty in my life, it was at that time; for my conscience would not allow me any peace when I thought of sending for your brother to come to Calcutta, in prospect of the approaching war. Our society at home have lost no property in consequence of our difficulties; but two years of precious time have been lost to the mission, unless some future advantage may be gained in consequence of the severe discipline to which we ourselves have been subject. We are sometimes induced to think that the lesson we found so very hard to learn will have a beneficial effect through our lives, and that the mission may, in the end, be advanced rather than retarded.
“We should have had no hesitation about remaining in Ava if no part of the Burmese empire had been ceded to the British. But as it was, we felt it would be an unnecessary exposure, besides the missionary field being much more limited in consequence of intoleration. We now consider our future missionary prospects as bright indeed; and our only anxiety is to be once more in that situation where our time will be exclusively devoted to the instruction of the heathen.
“From the date at the commencement of this long letter you see, my dear brother, that my patience has continued for two months. I have frequently been induced to throw it aside altogether; but feeling assured that you and my other friends are expecting something of this kind, I am induced to send it, with all its imperfections. This letter, dreadful as are the scenes herein described, gives you but a faint idea of the awful reality. The anguish, the agony of mind, resulting from a thousand little circumstances impossible to be delineated on paper, can be known by those only who have been in similar situations. Pray for us, my dear brother and sister, that these heavy afflictions may not be in vain, but may be blessed to our spiritual good and the advancement of Christ’s cause among the heathen.”