Chapter VII (2)

“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 by order 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 a _kyoung_ [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 comfortable in 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 to _stand_ at 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 which you 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 governor of 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 father one morning sent me word that he and all the white
prisoners were put into the inner prison, in five pairs of fetters
each, that his little room had been torn down, and his mat, pillow,
etc., 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, for _it 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 not wish 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
speaking _low_ of 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
which had 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 the gate. I used 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 excite me 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 months old, 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 or two, 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 the awful scene anticipated; and it was not
until they saw preparations making for repairing the prison, that they
had the least doubt that a cruel, lingering death awaited them. My
arrival was 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 always fatal to foreigners. My
constitution seemed destroyed, and in a few days I became so weak as
to be hardly able to walk to Mr. Judson’s prison. In this debilitated
state I set off in a cart for Ava, to procure medicines and some
suitable food, leaving the cook to supply my place. I reached the
house in safety, and for two or three days the disorder seemed 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 for wood and
water, and in order to have Mr. Judson’s dinner ready at the usual
hour. He never complained, never asked for his wages, and never for a
moment hesitated to go anywhere, or 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 had frequently 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, the _acting king_ of 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 that _I_ should still
be retained as a prisoner. The avaricious jailers, unwilling to lose
their prey, insisted that, as my name was not included in the order, I
should not go. In vain I urged that I was not sent there as a
prisoner, and that they had no authority over me; they still
determined I should not go, and forbade the villagers from letting me
a cart. Mr. Judson was then taken out of prison and brought to the
jailers’ house, where, by promises and threatenings, he finally gained
their consent, on condition that we would leave the remaining part of
our provisions we had recently received from Ava. It was noon before
we were allowed to depart. When we reached 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 that _he_ had
given him permission to stop a few moments at the house, it being on
his way. I hastened back to the house, where Mr. Judson soon arrived,
but was allowed to remain only a short time, while I could prepare
food and clothing for future use. He was crowded into a little boat,
where he had not room sufficient to lie down, and where his exposure
to the cold, damp 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’s services too much to allow their using any
measures threatening his life. I thought his situation, also, would be
much more comfortable than it really was; hence my anxiety was less.
But my health, which had never been restored since that violent attack
at 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 recover 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, debilitated state, the servant who had followed your brother to
the Burmese camp came in, and informed me that his master had arrived,
and was conducted to the 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 make _one more effort_ for the release of Mr.
Judson, and prevent his being sent back to the country prison, where I
knew he must suffer much, as I could not follow. 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, and _I 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 was
acquainted 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.