Removal Of The Prisoners To Oung-pen-la Mrs Judson Follows Them

"Notwithstanding the order the governor had given for my admittance into

prison, it was with the greatest difficulty that I could persuade the

under jailer to open the gate. I used to carry Mr. J's. food myself, for

the sake of getting in, and would then remain an hour or two, unless

driven out. We had been in this comfortable situation but two or three

days, when one morning, having carried in Mr. Judson's breakfast, which,
br /> in consequence of fever, he was unable to take, I remained longer than

usual, when the governor in great haste sent for me. I promised him to

return as soon as I had ascertained the governor's will, he being much

alarmed at this unusual message. I was very agreeably disappointed, when

the governor informed, that he only wished to consult me about his

watch, and seemed unusually pleasant and conversable. I found

afterwards, that his only object was, to detain me until the dreadful

scene, about to take place in the prison, was over. For when I left him

to go to my room, one of the servants came running, and with a ghastly

countenance informed me, that all the white prisoners were carried away.

I would not believe the report, but instantly went back to the governor,

who said he had just heard of it, but did not wish to tell me. I hastily

ran into the street, hoping to get a glimpse of them before they were

out of sight, but in this was disappointed. I ran first into one street,

then another, inquiring of all I met, but none would answer me. At

length an old woman told me the white prisoners had gone towards the

little river; for they were to be carried to Amarapora. 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 Amarapora; 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 sunk 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 towards 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 seemed 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. Towards night, however, I came to the determination to set

off the next morning for Amarapora; 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. Gouges, 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 Amarapora, 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 who could

afford me any assistance, I set off for Amarapora. 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 further with little Maria in my arms, whom I held all the way

from Ava. The cart man 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 the 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 cannot 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 Amarapora, and I had no shelter for the night. I asked one of

the jailers if I might put up a little bamboo house near the prisoners;

he said no, it was not customary. I then begged he would procure me a

shelter for the night, when on the morrow I could find some place to

live in. He took me to his house, in which there were only two small

rooms--one in which he and his family lived--the other, which was then

half full of grain, he offered to me; and in that little filthy place, I

spent the next six months of wretchedness. I procured some half boiled

water, instead of my tea, and, worn out with fatigue, laid myself down

on a mat spread over the paddy, and endeavoured to obtain a little

refreshment from sleep. The next morning your brother gave me the

following account of the brutal treatment he had received on being taken

out of prison.



"As soon as I had gone out at the call of the governor, one of the

jailers rushed into Mr. J's little room--roughly seized him by the

arm--pulled him out--stripped 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 longed to throw himself into the water to be free from

misery. But the sin attached to such an act alone prevented. They had

then eight miles to walk. The sand and gravel were like burning coals to

the feet of the prisoners, which soon became perfectly destitute of

skin; and in this wretched state they were goaded on by their unfeeling

drivers. Mr. J.'s debilitated state, in consequence of 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 to them, and seeing the distresses of your brother, took off his head

dress, which was made of cloth, tore it in two, gave half to his master,

and half to Mr. Judson, which he instantly wrapt round his wounded feet,

as they were not allowed to rest even for a moment. The servant then

offered his shoulder to Mr. J. and was almost carried by him the

remainder of the way. Had it not been for the support and assistance of

this man, your brother thinks 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 any

thing 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 as poor as it was, it was refreshing to the prisoners, who

had been almost destitute of food the day before. Carts were also

provided for their conveyance, as none of them were able to walk. All

this time the foreigners were entirely ignorant of what was to become of

them; and when they arrived at Oung-pen-la, and saw the dilapidated

state of the prison, they immediately, all as one, concluded that they

were there to be burnt, agreeably to the report which had previously

been in circulation at Ava. They all endeavoured to prepare themselves

for the awful scene anticipated, and it was not until they saw

preparations making for repairing the prison, that they had the least

doubt that a cruel lingering death awaited them. My arrival was in an

hour or two after this.



"The next morning I arose and endeavoured to find something like food.

But there was no market, and nothing to be procured. One of Dr. Price's

friends, however, brought some cold rice and vegetable curry, from

Amarapora, which, together with a cup of tea from Mr. Lansago, answered

for the breakfast of the prisoners; and for dinner, we made a curry of

dried salt fish, which a servant of Mr. 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.

While your brother was confined in the city prison, I had been allowed

to remain in our house, in which I had many conveniences left, and my

health continued good beyond all expectations. But now I had not a

single article of convenience--not even a chair or seat of any kind,

excepting a bamboo floor. The very morning after my arrival, Mary

Hasseltine was taken with the 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 neighbourhood, or

medicine for the sufferers, but was all day long going backwards and

forwards from the house to the prison, with little Maria in my arms.

Sometimes I was greatly relieved by leaving her, for an hour, when

asleep, by the side of her father, while I returned to the house to look

after Mary, whose fever ran so high as to produce delirium. She was so

completely covered with the small pox, that there was no distinction in

the pustules. As she was in the same little room with myself, I knew

Maria would take it; I therefore inoculated her from another child,

before Mary's had arrived at such a state as to be infectious. At the

same time, I inoculated Abby, and the jailer's children, who all had it

so lightly as hardly to interrupt their play. But the inoculation in the

arm of my poor little Maria did not take--she caught it of Mary, and had

it the natural way. She was then only three months and a half old, and

had been a most healthy child; but it was above three months before she

perfectly recovered from the effects of this dreadful disorder.



"You will recollect I never had the 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, &c. 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 cast, 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 any where, 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 afterwards 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 advanced 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 Woongyees 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 head-quarters 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 that detested place,

the Oung-pen-la prison. A messenger from our friend, the governor of the

north gate of the palace, who was formerly Koung-tone, Myoo-tsa,

informed us that an order had been given, the evening before, in the

palace, for Mr. Judson's release. On the same evening an official order

arrived; and with a joyful heart I set about preparing for our departure

early the following morning. But an unexpected obstacle occurred, which

made us fear that I should still be retained as a prisoner. The

avaricious jailers, unwilling to lose their prey, insisted, that as my

name was not included in the order, I should not go. In vain I urged

that I was not sent there as a prisoner, and that they had no authority

over me--they still determined I should not go, and forbade the

villagers from letting me a cart. Mr. Judson was then taken out of

prison, and brought to the jailer's house, where, by promises and

threatenings, he finally gained their consent, on condition that we

would leave the remaining part of our provisions we had recently

received from Ava. It was noon before we were allowed to depart. When we

reached Amarapora, 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, to which place he arrived

some time in the night. I took my own course, procured a boat, and

reached our house before dark.



"My first object the next morning, was to go in search of your brother,

and I had the mortification to meet him again in prison, though not the

death prison. I went immediately to my old friend the governor of the

city, who now was raised to the rank of a Woongyee. 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 tickals 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 previous, since the commencement of our

difficulties. I knew the Burmese officers at the camp would feel the

value of Mr. Judson's services too much to allow their using any

measures threatening his life. I thought his situation, also, would be

much more comfortable than it really was--hence my anxiety was less. But

my health, which had never been restored, since that violent attack at

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, 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 with out 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 endeavour to persuade me to take a

little nourishment, which I had obstinately refused for several days.

One of the first things I recollect was, seeing this faithful servant

standing by me, trying to induce me to take a little wine and water. I

was in fact so far gone, that the Burmese neighbours who had come in to

see me expire, said, 'She is dead; and if the king of angels should come

in, he could not recover her.'



"The fever, I afterwards understood, had run seventeen days when the

blisters were applied. I now began to recover slowly; but it was more

than a month after this before I had strength to stand. While in this

weak, debilitated state, the servant who had followed your brother to

the Burmese camp, came in, and informed me that his master had arrived,

and was conducted to the 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 I ever felt the value and efficacy of prayer, I did at this time. I

could not rise from my couch; I could make no efforts to secure my

husband; I could only plead with that great and powerful Being who has

said, 'Call upon me in the day of trouble, and I will hear, and 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 accidently saw the communication made to government

respecting him, which was simply this: 'We have no further use for

Yoodathan, 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. J. 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 mean time the governor of the north

gate presented a petition to this high court of the empire, offered

himself as Mr. Judson's security, obtained his release, and took him to

his house, where he treated him with every possible kindness, and to

which I was removed as soon as returning health would allow.



"The rapid strides of the English army towards 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 court-house 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 endeavouring 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

this 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, then in irons, should

be security for Dr. Sandford. The king gave them a hundred tickals 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 towards 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 Tlowtdau 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 and Mr. 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 he 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 Layarthoo-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 Pagan, as to make it impregnable; and that he would there defeat

and destroy the English. His offers were heard, he marched to Pagan 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, that he 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 towards 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 to take 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 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 Woongyee and Woondouk, 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 Ava should 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 water side, 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 Woongyee, and high

officers, insisting that we should 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 steam-boat, the sure presage of being within the

bounds of civilized life. As soon as our boat reached the shore,

brigadier A. and another officer came on board, congratulated us on our

arrival, and invited us on board the steam-boat, 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 Yandaboo, a few

miles further 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.

This subsequent hospitality and kind attention to the accommodations for

our passage to Rangoon, have left an indelible impression on our minds,

which can never be forgotten. We daily received the congratulation of

the British officers, whose conduct towards 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 these: What shall we render to the Lord for

all his benefits towards us?



"The treaty of peace was soon concluded, signed by both parties, and a

termination of hostilities publicly declared. We left Yandaboo, 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 say, 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."



In a concluding paragraph, dated Amherst, July 27, she adds:



"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 delineate 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 church among the heathen."



At the close of this long and melancholy narrative, we may appropriately

introduce the following tribute to the benevolence and talents of Mrs.

Judson, written by one of the English prisoners, who were confined at

Ava with Mr. Judson. It was published in a Calcutta paper after the

conclusion of the war:



"Mrs. Judson was the author of those eloquent and forcible appeals to

the government, which prepared them by degrees for submission to terms

of peace, never expected by any, who knew the hauteur and inflexible

pride of the Burman court.



"And while on this subject, the overflowing of grateful feelings, on

behalf of myself and fellow-prisoners, compel me to add a tribute of

public thanks to that amiable and humane female, who, though living at a

distance of two miles from our prison, without any means of conveyance,

and very feeble in health, forgot her own comfort and infirmity, and

almost every day visited us, sought out and administered to our wants,

and contributed in every way to alleviate our misery.



"While we were left by the government destitute of food, she, with

unwearied perseverance, by some means or other, obtained for us a

constant supply.



"When the tattered state of our clothes evinced the extremity of our

distress, she was ever ready to replenish our scanty wardrobe.



"When the unfeeling avarice of our keepers confined us inside, or made

our feet fast in the stocks, she, like a ministering angel, never ceased

her applications to the government, until she was authorized to

communicate to us the grateful news of our enlargement, or of a respite

from our galling oppressions.



"Besides all this, it was unquestionably owing, in a chief degree, to

the repeated eloquence, and forcible appeals of Mrs. Judson, that the

untutored Burman was finally made willing to secure the welfare and

happiness of his country, by a sincere peace."