Mr. and Mrs. Wade, who were sent out by the board to reënforce the mission.
She arrived on the 5th of December, and found her husband in the midst of
his toils and surrounded with disappointments and difficulties.
It soon become evident that Mrs. Judson had returned only to pass through
scenes of unparalleled sufferings. On her arrival she found her husband
about to leave for Ava, and immediately started with him. On the passage
they encountered storms and dangers, and were, emphatically, in perils by
sea and perils by land. While stopping at the town of Tsen-pyoo-kyon, about
one hundred miles from the capital, they learned that the declaration
of war had been made, and that the Burmans and English were at open
hostilities. They reached Ava, and, without manifesting any fear or any
interest in the hostile movements of the people, proceeded to build there a
house and commence their operations. Soon the dreadful news came that the
British had taken Rangoon. This catastrophe incensed the court at Ava, and
Mr. Judson and Dr. Price were arrested as spies in the employ of England.
On the 8th of June, 1824, Mr. Judson was arrested at his own dinner table
by a party of officers, led by an executioner whose power was absolute, and
who held in his hand a black book, in which the names of his victims were
recorded. With scarcely a moment's notice they threw him on the floor, and
bound him with strong cords, and hurried him away. Mrs. Judson offered them
money to release her husband; but they repulsed her with rudeness, and
carried him, heedless of her tears and prayers, into the _death_ prison,
where he was loaded with three pairs of chains, and fastened to a long
pole, to prevent the moving of his body.
In this trying situation Mrs. Judson returned, a lone, desolate woman, to
her dwelling, and destroyed all her papers, journals, and writings of every
description, lest they should be examined and found to contain something
which would increase the sorrow of her husband. Her servants were taken
from her and confined in stocks, and a guard placed about the house, who
did their utmost to annoy and insult her. After some delay she procured
permission to go abroad, and daily, at the prison gate, prayed that she
might see the prisoners. Permission was at length given, and the fond wife
sought her husband. She found his condition more deplorable than she had
supposed. He was scarcely able to crawl to the door of his rude tenement;
and while he stood in conference with the highminded and noble woman
who had followed him beyond the seas, he was constantly annoyed by the
suspicious and watchful keepers, who listened to their conversation and
scrutinized every movement. So jealous were they, that, ere any arrangement
could be made by which Mr. Judson's release might be effected, they were
commanded to separate. In vain the wife urged her affection for her
husband--in vain she appealed to manly feelings and love of home--in vain
she exhibited the order of government by which she had been admitted--in
vain she clung to the neck of her chained and suffering companion. No
motive was strong enough to move the hard hearts of the cruel wretches, who
seemed to take exquisite pleasure in the miseries of others. So completely
does heathenism deaden the heart to all generous and elevated feelings
that those strong men could witness unmoved, ay, with delight, the intense
anguish of a feeble, weeping, broken-hearted woman. To every prayer she
offered and every plea she made, they gave back words of cruelty and scorn;
and when she entreated them, for the love of humanity, to allow her to
converse with Mr. J. a few minutes longer, they refused; and as she
hesitated, they cried, in angry tones, "_Depart, or we will drag you out_."
The admirable conduct of this heroic woman, under such trying
circumstances, we cannot too much applaud. Ceaselessly she labored for the
release of her husband. From one member of the royal family to another
she went, with prayers that they would intercede in her behalf.
Repulsed everywhere, she fainted not, but toiled night and day for the
accomplishment of her purpose.
After about a month's confinement, Mr. J. was violently beset with
fever, and the governor gave orders that he should be removed to a more
comfortable situation. He was accordingly placed in a little bamboo hut,
and his wife permitted to attend him. Here he remained three days, when the
English advancing upon the capital, the order was given for the removal of
the prisoners. They were hurried away without warning, and Mrs. Judson was
left in a state bordering on distraction. She soon found, on inquiry, the
direction which the prisoners had taken. With a single servant and two
Burman children, she started, with her babe, three months old, in her arms,
to find her companions in suffering. She overtook them at Oung-pen-la, and
found their condition to be wretched beyond description. Their journey was
over a rough, burning road, and, chained two by two, they were whipped
along like cattle bound to the place of slaughter. Their backs were
blistered by the sun, and their feet scorched by the ground, until every
step they took drew forth a groan of anguish, which their drivers answered
with yells of delight. One poor creature fell in the pathway, and was
dragged along until he expired.
To add to Mrs. Judson's distress, her assistant was taken with the small
pox the morning after she arrived at Oung-pen-la; and soon her daughter
Maria was reduced to the point of death by the same disease, and she
herself was afflicted with the malady in a modified form.
The prisoners had been sent to this place that they might be burned in the
old prison, in which, from the time of their arrival, they were confined,
being chained together in pairs. But God had otherwise ordained: Judson
was to live on. Soon an order for his release and return to Ava came; the
government hoping he might be of service to them in their difficulties with
the British. He was employed as interpreter and translator, and, as such,
treated with some degree of kindness.
Wearied with continued anxiety, Mrs. Judson was prostrated by sickness soon
after her return to Ava. Reason fled away; insanity took the place of calm
and deliberate action; and for seventeen days she was a raving maniac.
Absent from her husband, and dependent on the cold mercy of heathen women,
she was indeed an object of pity. But from the borders of the grave she was
raised up when all around thought her beyond the reach of hope. The hand of
God reached down to the borders of the grave and rescued her from death,
and placed her upon earth again, a fruitful laborer in the vineyard of her
Master.
Time and space will not permit us to follow these devoted missionaries
through all the suffering caused by this distressing war. Mr. Judson acted
as mediator between the English and the Burmans, and by his ingenuity and
skill, his eloquence and experience, saved a vast amount of bloodshed and
crime. He was the instrument in securing the release of all the English and
American prisoners who were confined in the dungeons of Ava, and restoring
some from hopeless servitude to the friends and companions of youth. He
conferred immense advantage on England, while he saved the capital of the
vast Burman empire from fire and sword. To him, more than to any other man,
is to be traced the amicable adjustment of the existing difficulties,
and the settlement of the trouble on terms so favorable to the English
residents of Ava.
One of the articles of the treaty then entered into provided that all the
foreigners at Ava should have permission to leave unmolested. Mr. and Mrs.
Judson availed themselves of this permission, and, on a beautiful evening
in March, left with their fellow-workers and fellow-sufferers, and sailed
down the Irrawaddy, bidding farewell to the golden city within whose walls
they had suffered so much and been sustained by God so long.
Nor was Mr. Judson the only one who won praise and glory during that awful
period. The companion of his toils was not idle. Her kindness to the
prisoners--her arduous labors to do them good--her appeals to the
government--her visits to the nobles--her ceaseless efforts--won for her
undissembled gratitude and immortal renown. Nor are the acts of Mrs. Judson
recorded alone on the records of Christian missions. The secular press of
our own and other lands ascribed to her the honor of materially assisting
in the adjustment of the existing difficulties, and, by her appeals and
persuasions, doing much to prevent bloodshed and crime.
She went where no person of the other sex would have dared to go, and
where, to any woman of less devotion and tireless perseverance, all
entrance would have been denied. Though her husband, at this trying time,
was the object of her peculiar care, yet she found time to do good to all
the other prisoners. Like a ministering angel she moved among them, giving
drink to the thirsty, food to the hungry, and clothing to the destitute.
A statement was drawn up by an English prisoner, and published in Calcutta
and in England, in which the thanks of the prisoners are given to this
estimable woman. The writer dwells upon the theme with the interest of one
who has experienced acts of kindness and is himself under obligation. He
ascribes to _her_, a feeble woman, the honor of having, under God, prepared
the Burman empire to seek terms of reconciliation and peace. From a full
heart he utters the tribute of his gratitude to the frail child of humanity
who forgot her own weariness, forgot her own sufferings, forgot her own
privations, sickness, and want, and sought out the wants of the victims of
imperial despotism.
Her daily walk was from the prison to the palace. To one place she went to
whisper words of kindness, to wipe away the tears of sorrow, to wet the
parched lips of the dying with cool water, to bathe the limbs bruised and
chafed by heavy irons, and to apply healing balm to both body and spirit;
the other place she visited to plead and argue with a proud court, and a
haughty, tyrannical, and overbearing monarch. She risked her own life at
every trial, but ceased not her perilous work until God crowned her labors
with success--until the stubborn court of Ava relented--until she saw the
fetters fall, and the prisoners again at liberty. The English nation owes
her a debt of gratitude; for she has done more for it than many of its most
illustrious warriors. Humanity is a debtor to her memory; for she was kind
to man, and, in his want and suffering, surpassed humanity to do him good.
Religion is her debtor; for she was one of its most devoted advocates, and
presented in her life a sublime illustration of the power of faith. From
Ava Mr. and Mrs. Judson removed to Amherst, a town which was founded at the
close of the war in that territory, and which, by the treaty, was ceded to
the English. It was at Amherst that Mrs. Judson was visited with the fatal
fever which terminated her existence on the 24th of October, 1826.
At the time of her death Mr. Judson was absent from home, in company with
Mr. Crawford, the British commissioner. Her sickness was short and painful.
During most of the time her reason was dethroned; but in her moments of
calmness she gave evidence that all was peace. Without the hand of her kind
companion to lift her aching head, or bathe her throbbing temples, she
died.
Mr. Judson returned, not to hear her voice, not to gaze upon her form, but
to weep over her grave, and with his motherless child to sit in sorrow on
the spot where she breathed her last. Such was the violence of her fever
that she said but little, and left her husband without many of those tokens
of kindness which surviving friends esteem of so much value.
They buried her at Amherst, under the shadow of a lofty hopia tree; and in
that lonely grave her form now reposes, heedless of what is passing on the
earth. Her child, which died shortly after she was buried, is laid by her
side; and on the sacred spot the traveller often pauses to think of one of
the most devoted and self-sacrificing women whose names have been mentioned
with gratitude by the virtuous and the good. A marble slab, presented
by the ladies of America, marks the grave, and points it out to every
stranger. On that slab is an inscription, a copy of which is on the
opposite page.
Here we pause. Such labors, such self-sacrifice, such sufferings need no
tongue to speak their merits. The worth of Mrs. Judson is engraved upon the
hearts of all who claim the Christian character. For her works' sake she is
beloved; and as long as the church endures, she will be remembered by all
its members. Like Mrs. Newell, her fame belongs
[Illustration:
ERECTED TO THE MEMORY
of
ANN H. JUDSON,
MISSIONARY
_of the
Baptist General Convention in the United States
to the_
BURMAN EMPIRE.
She was born at Bradford,
In the State of Massachusetts, North America,
December 22, 1789.
She arrived with her husband at Rangoon
In July, 1813,
And there commenced those
MISSIONARY TOILS
Which she sustained with such
_Christian fortitude, decision, and perseverance_,
Amid scenes of
Civil commotion and personal affliction,
As won for her
Universal respect and affection.
She died at
Amherst, October 24, 1826.]
not to one sect or party, but to all who love our Lord and Savior Jesus
Christ. Like her she went out when but few were ready to bid her "God
speed" or bestow their money for her support.
On the record of American missions we find the name of no female who
endured so much, who sacrificed so much, who accomplished so much. She fell
not when the first notes of the great enterprise were ringing on her ears;
but she made her grave amid the strife and confusion of the battle. She
lived long enough to see the fruits of missions--to gaze upon the converts
as they descended, one by one, into the baptismal wave--to see a door
opened wide enough to admit laborers from every department of the Christian
church. She mourned not, as did her sister martyr, that she was cut down
ere she had labored for God and seen the happy result. They were born
within sight of each other, in pleasant valleys, on the borders of the
silvery stream. They met the companions of their missionary toils at the
same time, and within a few days of each other decided to become the first
heroines of the missionary church. Together they sailed--as precious a
cargo as ever was tossed on the billowy sea. Together they landed on
heathen soil, with high hopes of doing good. But, though united in their
lives, they were divided in their deaths. Mrs. Judson lived on more than
a half score of useful years beyond her companion; and if life is to be
measured, not by the number of days and years, but by what is accomplished
in it, or what is suffered during its lapse, then she lived ages--ay, ages
of suffering, ages of labor, ages of virtue and piety--after Mrs. Newell
had descended to her grave.
And where are they now? Go ask the angel throng, as they tune their harps
to melodious songs on high, and they will point to two sister spirits, who
day and night in company present themselves before God; and as one rank
after another comes up from heathen lands to swell the chorus of the
redeemed and ascribe their conversion to the efforts of the early
missionary laborers who, under God, were made the humble instruments in the
great work, meekly will be heard from the spirit lips of Harriet Newell and
Ann H. Judson the reply, "Not unto us, not unto us, but unto the Lamb who
was slain, but who liveth forever."
III.
ELIZABETH HERVEY, OF BOMBAY.
In the year 1812 a little company of missionaries sailed from the port of
Boston for Bombay. They were sent out by the American Board to spread the
knowledge of Jesus in the dark places of the earth. They founded their
mission station--they labored long and cheerfully--they endured toil and
self-denial--and saw the blessed results in the tokens of enlightened mind
and regenerated heart.
On the evening of the first Sabbath in August, 1830, the windows of Park
Street Church gave out a cheerful light; and he who entered saw congregated
there an immense multitude of men and women. The pews, the aisles, the
choir, were all filled, and deep interest was on all countenances and in
all hearts. The occasion which drew this vast congregation was the setting
apart of three young men, with their wives, to the solemn work of missions.
William Ramsey, William Hervey, and Hollis Read were about to depart to
"the land and shadow of death;" and the Christian community had come
together to hear their voices, to see their countenances, for the last
time. Soon broke over that crowd of human beings the well-known hymn, sung
by a full choir and echoed by a responding people,--
"Jesus shall reign where'er the sun
Does his successive journeys run;
His kingdom stretch from shore to shore,
Till moons shall wax and wane no more."
Then was heard the solemn prayer of consecration, in which the missionaries
were commended to God and to the word of his power; the blessing of Heaven
was implored in their behalf; and to the care of Him who holds the winds,
and who guides the dashing waves, the servants of God, the messengers of
the church, were committed.
From the instructions given those beloved missionaries on that occasion we
give the following extract:--
"The time has arrived to which you have looked with expectation and desire,
when, with the partners of your lives, you are to bid farewell to your
native land, and to enter upon a course of evangelical labors for the
benefit of distant heathens.
"On such an occasion, it is obviously proper in itself, as well
as conformable to general usage, to address to you in public some
considerations, in the form of advice and instructions, from those who have
the superintendence of the mission with which you are to be connected. This
is to you a solemn and eventful hour; and if, as we hope and believe, you
have approached it with an earnest and truly benevolent desire to become
heralds of divine mercy to your perishing fellow-men, it will be an hour
always remembered with joy and gratitude in the future stages of your
existence. If you partake of that holy, self-denying spirit which brought
down the Son of God from heaven,--if you have any true sympathy with the
apostles, who considered it as a great calamity to themselves if they were
hindered in the work of preaching the gospel,--you will hereafter be able
to say, with pure and indescribable delight, There was a period in our
history when we publicly, in the house of God and in the presence of many
Christian friends, devoted our lives to the service of Christ among the
heathen. There was a time when the attachments to friends and country were
dissolved, under the influence of that love which seeketh not its own,
and which embraces, in its comprehensive regards, the suffering and the
destitute of every clime.
"Congratulating you, therefore, on the possession of a temper which, if
actually possessed, is of more value to you than all which this country or
this world can furnish, we proceed to offer the following directions and
remarks:--
"The vessel in which your passage is taken will, with the favor of
Providence, convey you to Calcutta, where you will probably have the
opportunity of conferring with some of those venerable men who led the way
in the missionary enterprises of the last forty years. They are known and
honored throughout the world; and honors will thicken and brighten around
their memory long after the mere politician, statesman, and warrior shall
have passed into oblivion.
"Without unnecessary loss of time, you will proceed to Bombay. Here a large
and most interesting field invites your labor--interesting, not so much
from any harvest which has been already gathered, nor because the precise
period of ingathering can now be foreseen by human vision, as from the
consideration that here the first mission of the Board was established;
that here a noble and successful effort was made by our missionaries in
pleading before governors the claims of the gospel; that here the first
messengers of our churches cheerfully labored, till most of them have
fallen asleep, their lives having been worn out by incessant exposure and
toil; and, finally, that here preparations have been made for future labor,
with a view to the wants of many millions, in whose language the message of
salvation is delivered and the Scriptures are printed and circulated, while
multitudes of children are trained up to read, reflect, and reason.
"The Christian community sends you forth, dear brethren, as messengers from
our churches to the heathen. In the name of our churches we bid you _God
speed_. The very act of our sending you forth in the name of the church
implies that we hold ourselves bound to the same cause. By these public
services we are solemnly pledged to regard you as a part of ourselves,
not the less dear certainly because distant, your very distance being
occasioned by your attachment to the common interests of the church.
You have a just claim upon your Christian brethren in America for their
prayers, their sympathies, and such a supply of your temporal necessities
as will enable you to prosecute your great work. We are confident that,
if all the members of our churches were convened in one place, they would
unanimously sustain us in expressing these reciprocal obligations.
"Still, brethren, you must be sensible that the manner in which these
pledges shall be redeemed will depend much upon the grace which is
vouchsafed from above. If the spirit of piety should become low in our
churches; if jealousy should divide their efforts; if professed Christians
should generally become more entangled with this world,--the missionary
enterprise of the country will be enfeebled. We would not distress you with
apprehensions of this kind further than is requisite to call forth your
earnest, constant, and importunate prayers that God would not leave our
churches to a retrograde movement, which, in the present circumstances of
the world, would be a most deplorable event.
"Confiding in that Savior who gave himself for the church and who loves it
with an everlasting love, we affectionately commend you to his protection
and blessing. When he, as the great Shepherd, shall gather his sheep
into one fold, may you, and we, and multitudes of heathens saved by your
instrumentality, be numbered among his chosen; and to him shall be glory
everlasting."
The next morning the missionaries, with their wives, embarked on board the
ship Corvo, for Calcutta. On the wharf the hymn was sung and the prayer
offered; and the vessel swung off from the wharf amid the prayers and tears
of the spectators. The vessel had a safe passage, and all the attention of
Captain Spaulding was given to render the voyage pleasant and cheerful.
Mrs. Elizabeth Hervey, the wife of Rev. William Hervey, was born in Hadley,
Massachusetts, and was the daughter of Deacon Jacob Smith, a beloved
Christian and an estimable citizen.
During her early years she was remarkable for a prevailing desire to do
good to others. Her young heart seemed set upon the work of benefiting her
fellow-creatures; and she would make any sacrifice to confer happiness upon
those around her. Though her heart had not been renewed and her mind made
acquainted with the high and holy motives of the gospel, yet she recognized
her obligations to others, and, while quite a child, endeavored faithfully
to discharge them.
When she became a Christian, this desire to do good assumed a new and
more divine form, and she exerted herself to lift up the race and adorn
humanity. Her pastor, under whose ministry she was converted, says, "Doing
good was her delight and her life. The subject of missions, years before
she saw Mr. Hervey, was the great theme of her soul. She was alive to it at
every point, and her memory will long be cherished here."