death" sailed from Boston in 1825; and in due time the missionaries arrived
in Calcutta. Here they remained nearly two years, employed in missionary
work and doing good as they had opportunity. On the 17th of April, 1827,
they entered Amherst, and found there the grave of Ann H. Judson and the
bending form of her bereaved husband. That good man's trials were not at an
end. His dear daughter Maria was dying; and Boardman's own hand formed her
little coffin, and dug her grave, and supported the trembling form of the
father, when his child, the daughter of the sainted mother and wife, was
laid to rest.
While at Calcutta, the union of husband and wife was cemented by the birth
of the first child--a daughter, whom they called Sarah Ann. The occurrence
of this event, while it withdrew the devoted mother from the labors and
toils of her missionary life, awakened in her bosom feelings which had
never been stirred there before. A new world of thought and action was
before her mind; and, to use her own language, she "was another creature."
On his arrival at Amherst Boardman conferred with the other missionaries,
who, after mature deliberation, advised him to commence labors at Maulmain,
about twenty-five miles from Amherst, to which place he proceeded with his
little family. Soon a bamboo house was erected for him, and his work of
self-denial and suffering commenced. They were annoyed in various ways by
the natives, and several times were plundered by the hordes of robbers that
descended from the mountains at night and assaulted every dwelling which
promised considerable booty. Their house was pillaged in this manner but a
short time after they arrived at Maulmain. One night they went to sleep as
usual, after committing themselves to the care of Him whose eyes are never
closed to sleep. Awaking at midnight, Mrs. B. found the lamp, which had
been left burning, extinguished, and in the dim moonlight the furniture of
the room appeared to be in confusion. To light the lamp was but the work of
a moment, on which a fearful scene was presented. Every thing of value had
been taken away, and all that remained was in terrible confusion. During
this robbery Mr. Boardman was painfully awake to every thing which
transpired; while his wife, wearied with toil, slept as sweetly as if the
villains who had caused such havoc had been kind attendants on errands of
mercy. And providential was it that she did not awake. While some were
carrying away the property, others stood over the prostrate forms of the
sleeping family, ready to murder them if they awoke. Boardman knew it
all--he knew that fierce eyes were watching him--that the uplifted weapon
was ready to drink his blood. A single movement on the part of the sleepers
would have brought down that weapon and hurried them from the scene of
their labors to the bar of Him who had sent them forth to do his work,
declaring, "Lo, I am with you alway."
In the early part of 1828 it was deemed advisable for Mr. Boardman to
remove to Tavoy, about one hundred and fifty miles south of Maulmain; and,
in accordance with certain instructions from the Board, he took up his
residence there in April. On his arrival he found the "whole city given to
idolatry." On every hand were the melancholy evidences of heathen worship,
heathen superstition, and heathen cruelty. Gaudama was worshipped by all
the people, and upwards of two hundred priests ministered at the various
temples. The faithful missionary commenced his labors immediately on his
arrival: his zayat went up within sight of the great pagoda, and daily he
sat at the door to instruct the passing population. While at Tavoy, Mrs.
Boardman was employed with her domestic duties, and with the instruction of
the children who could be gathered into the school, which was commenced on
their arrival. We deem the cares of one's own family enough to employ all
the time of a female in this country; but the labors of Mrs. B., in her
feeble state of health, were augmented, not merely by the children of the
boarding school, but also by the care and instruction of the school itself.
Uncomplainingly she performed her arduous labors, while day after day her
health grew poorer and her cheek paler. It was at Tavoy that Ko Thah-byu
was "buried with Christ by baptism." In his early days he had been a very
wicked man. His path was stained with blood, and to all around he gave
evidence of his ferocious, bloodthirsty nature. He was converted at
Maulmain, and removed with Mr. B. to Tavoy. After his baptism he was a most
faithful and devoted laborer. His nature seemed to be entirely changed.
From being one of the most ferocious and dreadful tyrants, he became
gentle, humble, forgiving, and merciful. His case presents us with a
wonderful instance of what the gospel can do to soften the savage nature
and bring even the most stubborn heart into sweet and willing subjection to
our dear Redeemer. He was made a preacher of the gospel which had performed
such wonders on his heart, and to the day of his death continued a faithful
and devoted minister of the Lord Jesus.
While at Tavoy, a second child was born to this missionary family. They
called him George, for his father. He yet lives--perhaps to bear the gospel
forth to those who swarm around his father's grave.
At Tavoy, too, little Sarah died, when nearly three years old. This child,
the first born, seems to have twined its affections sweetly and tenderly
around the mother's heart. She was indeed a lovely child. "Her bright-blue
eyes and rosy cheeks," her amiable disposition and obedient deportment,
won the kindness of all around her. She inherited the warm heart of her
missionary mother, and fond hopes were cherished that she might live to
fill her mother's place on heathen ground. But God's ways are not as our
ways. He removed the lovely flower, and blasted in an hour all the fond
expectations of her parents. In his infinite wisdom he saw the hinderance
the little one would be to his laboring servant, and in kindness took her
to his own arms.
When children die in this loved land they depart in the midst of tears and
sighs; kind friends sympathize and pray; the voice of sorrow is heard along
the line of many dwellings; and in many families is uttered the voice of
grief. At such times and under such circumstances the hand of friendship
and benevolence will be stretched out to assist and perform the little acts
of charity which at such an hour come with sweet fragrance to the parting
and weary spirit. But when little Sarah closed her eyes in death but few
tears were seen, but few hands of sympathy held out. The broken-hearted
mother herself washed the cold form of the dead child and arrayed the pale
body in its little shroud.
On the mind of Mrs. Boardman this affliction exerted a most salutary
influence. She had admired and adored her child. She loved the precious
gift more than the gracious Being who had bestowed it, and, wrapped up in
its possession, imagined it could not be taken from her arms. But when
God removed the loved and lovely one she began to feel how deeply she had
erred, and forthwith restored her supreme affection to the great Creator.
Her attention was called from the vain and transitory things of earth; she
saw the narrow limit of human life more plainly than ever; she learned the
lessons of mortality; and her sad bereavement became to her torn heart an
inestimable blessing. Besides this, the idea that their little family had a
representative in heaven was unutterably precious; and she feared less that
hour when her own labors would be done and that reward entered upon which
is prepared for all who obey God and love his Son Jesus Christ.
To Mrs. Boardman another child was also given, which was called Judson
Wade Boardman--a trio of as illustrious names as ever were engraved on the
records of the church militant. He lived but a short time, descending to
the grave leaving another vacant place in the mother's heart.
In 1828 Mr. Boardman determined to leave Tavoy for a while and visit the
Karen villages in the interior. He was accompanied by Ko Thah-byu and some
other converted Karens. They had heard of him by means of persons who had
visited Tavoy for business and pleasure, and religious books and tracts had
been distributed among the people who had never heard a sermon or seen the
pale face of the missionary. As he passed through their villages he was
every where met with kindness. Food was brought and many valuable presents
given him. At one village they found a zayat which the people had put up
for them; and here they tarried and preached and explained the gospel
several days. Many were converted; God's Spirit was poured out; and ere Mr.
B. left the place several came and requested the ordinance of baptism. This
matter, however, was prudently deferred, that the converts might "learn the
way of the Lord more perfectly." He found the people in gross darkness: he
left them with beams of light from the cross strong upon them. He found
them without the word of God--without the Sabbath--without the way of
salvation: he left them in the possession of all these good gifts, and at
the end of nine days returned to his family at Tavoy, again to labor and
suffer in the cause of his Master.
One of the most exciting incidents which occurred at Tavoy during the stay
of Mr. B. was a rebellion, which commenced on the 9th of August, 1829. The
English had withdrawn most of their soldiers from Tavoy and quartered them
at Maulmain. Almost the whole force at the former place consisted of a
hundred Sepoys, commanded by a man who, at the moment of the revolt, was,
believed to be in the agonies of death. On the 9th, at midnight, the
missionary family were aroused by horrid cries around their rude dwelling.
Boardman sprang from his bed, and, bending his ear to the open window,
heard the cry, "Teacher, Tavoy is in arms! Tavoy is in arms!" In an instant
the ready mind of the missionary comprehended the difficulty and the
danger. He at once aroused his family, and began to prepare for resistance
or flight as the case might require. After a time the insurgents were
repulsed, and, retiring to a distance, took refuge in rear of the mission
buildings; consequently the station was placed between the two contending
parties; and over the heads of the little band the balls whistled, carrying
death to hated foes. In the morning the Sepoys were driven from the city
and took refuge in the Government House, to which place the missionary
family repaired, seizing for this a momentary quiet. Their situation here
was terrible. The house was crowded with women and children: soon it became
unsafe, and the whole party retired to a vacant building, having six rooms,
on the margin of the river. Into this house, containing more than a hundred
barrels of powder, were three hundred persons crowded together; while
without were heard the wild and frantic yells of the savages, thirsting for
blood. On the morning of the 13th Mr. Burney, the civil superintendent, who
was away at the time of the outbreak, returned. To him the whole people
were indebted for their safety and their lives. Under his management the
Sepoys rallied and advanced upon the city, and, after several desperate
conflicts, succeeded in driving the insurgents from it and capturing
several of the leaders in the revolt. The overwhelming number of the foe
was not proof against the superior skill of the English; and when the
vessel which had been sent to Maulmain for help returned, Major Burney was
in quiet possession of the town.
Mrs. Boardman immediately embarked for Maulmain; to which place her husband
soon followed her, taking with him all the scholars in the school who were
willing to go. They remained at M. until the mission house was repaired and
quiet restored.
From this period up to the time of her husband's last sickness we find but
little in the history of Mrs. Boardman of a marked character. She labored
on under discouragements and difficulties and amid sickness and sorrow.
Often did her own system give way; and more often did her child utter the
wail of sickness and distress, and plead for rest and quiet which could not
be granted. During this interval Mr. B. made repeated journeys from Tavoy
to Maulmain, and was busily engaged in the great object of his life. He saw
to some extent the fruits of his toil; and on his abundant labors Heaven
placed the broad seal of divine approbation. One after another yielded to
the force of truth and bowed in homage to the cross of Christ. He did not
die, like Coleman and Wheelock, ere he had seen the heathen eye overflow
with tears, the heathen heart burst with rapture into life, and the heathen
knees bowing, not before Gaudama, but before Jehovah.
During the year 1830 it became evident to all that Mr. Boardman must die.
The disease contracted in consequence of sleeping on the cold ground and
being exposed to the damp fogs of night came on slowly but surely, and
all hope of recovery took its flight. Feeling himself that he should soon
depart, he called the converts around him and instructed them in the way of
life. Others who had not been baptized he prepared for the ordinance.
Three days were devoted to the examination, and eighteen were accepted as
candidates for the holy service. The missionary was unable to rise from his
bed; and many of the questions which he desired to put to these persons
were first given to his wife, who, sitting on the bed beside him, put her
ear to his lips and caught the sound as it struggled for utterance. On the
20th of December the baptism took place under circumstances of thrilling
interest. The candidates, with the administrator, and the sick teacher,
borne on a little cot upon the shoulders of the Karens, passed along to a
fine lake, into which Moung Ing descended and immersed the young disciples.
It was a sight of interest to God and angels; and doubtless they bent over
the scene with holy satisfaction. As they went to the place and as they
returned the wicked idolaters jeered and scoffed, and heaped their
maledictions upon the head of the dying Boardman, who in a short time was
to be far beyond the reach of injury and insult.
The administration of the Lord's supper followed the baptismal service, to
which the little church of twenty-seven members sat down, eighteen of them
for the first time. The bread was broken by the trembling, dying hand of
Mr. Boardman, who was performing the deed for _the last_ time.
In January, 1831, Mr. and Mrs. Mason arrived at Tavoy, having been sent out
to reënforce the mission, and were immediately conducted to the residence
of their dying fellow-laborer. The meeting of the two devoted men and their
wives must have been of deep and solemn interest. One was fresh from the
land of his birth, ready to engage with zeal in the Master's work; the
other had fought the fight, had kept the faith, had finished the course,
and was about to receive the robe of victory and the crown of glory.
Wishing to make one more effort in the cause of his Savior, Mr. Boardman
determined to visit the village where a short time before he had preached
several days and where several persons had been converted. These he wished
to gather into the fold, and, ere his departure, see them buried in the
liquid grave. He went forth with his newly-arrived associates and his own
family. A company of Karens carried Mr. Boardman on a bed and Mrs. B. in a
chair. After a journey of three days they arrived at the place and found
the villagers in anxious expectation. They had erected a church on the
banks of a lovely stream and prepared accommodations for the missionaries.
After the converts had been properly instructed, they were baptized by Mr.
Mason. Thirty-four submitted to the ordinance and were added to the little
band of believers. The journey and the effort made to commune with the
people were too much for the exhausted frame, and the good man began to
sink rapidly. Carefully they took him up to remove him to the boat which
was to convey him to the river; but as they passed along, the anxious wife,
who watched the countenance of her husband, saw a change. Death had stamped
his signet on those pale features; and, when they arrived at the water
side, all that remained of Boardman was a cold, inanimate corpse. The
voyage down the river was a sorrowful one. Every cheek was flowing down
with tears and every heart was bleeding with anguish.
At Tavoy they were met by the sad disciples, headed by Moung Ing, the
converted Burman. Slowly they bore forward the dead body of the man of God,
and laid it down in the mission house in which he had so often discoursed
of Jesus. Around him in that hallowed spot gathered a company more precious
to God than ever assembled around the bier of a fallen emperor; there went
up to heaven a wail of sorrow as heartfelt as ever was uttered over the
grave of son or sire; and the death was as full of sadness and importance
as could have been the demise of a laurelled chieftain or a titled senator.
True, the throng who came out to see that pale form and marble brow were
not gathered from the proud and great of earth. No king came weeping to the
house of death; no noble _cortége_ came in sackcloth and stood as mourners
there; but the elect of God, the fruits of missionary labor on heathen
soil, the converted sons and daughters of darkness, were the sincere,
humble, faithful mourners.
They buried him in lowly pomp--_the pomp of death_. All the European
residents of the place and crowds of natives to whom he had endeared
himself followed him to his burial. They laid him down on the right side of
his first born, and returned home to weep, and many to _forget_. But there
was one who could never forget--no, never. The object of her early love
had been stricken down, and in lonely widowhood she was left to bewail
his loss. But, though cast down, she was not forsaken. The Savior was her
portion; and in this hour of trial she leaned on him. In her terrible
visitation she saw the traces of Jehovah's care; and, committing herself
and her fatherless child to him, her soul rested in hope.
During the time which elapsed between the death of Mr. Boardman and her
marriage with Dr. Judson the afflicted widow labored with all her might to
do the will of her Master. Not content with instructing the lisping child
and tender youth, she travelled from village to village with her little
boy and a few attendants. Wherever she went she was met with kindness. The
death of the white teacher had unsealed even the wild heart of heathenism;
and the widow was an object of universal interest. It is doubtful if at
any period of her life she exhibited more lovely traits of character, or
accomplished a greater amount of good in an equal space of time, than while
moving along her tearful way from the grave of one husband to the marriage
chamber of another.
After having remained a widow four years, Mrs. B. was, in April, 1834,
united in marriage to Dr. Judson. The parties were well acquainted with
each other, and both understood the wants and privations of a missionary
life. This new marriage was a new proof of devotion to Christ and his
cause; and when Mrs. B. a second time gave herself to a missionary husband,
it was a new and sublime token of her determination to live a missionary
life. Had she been so disposed, she might have returned to the home and
friends of her youth; but, with a full conception of all that would await
her, she again gave herself, for life, to Jesus and the perishing heathen.
Her little George, who had been to her torn and lacerated heart such a
source of comfort, began to fail; and his mother determined to send him to
America. But how could she part with her darling one? How could she behold
him borne away to a distant land, to see her face no more? But with the
same submission which she had ever manifested she bowed to this new
bereavement, and kissed the cheek of her child and sent him away. It was a
trial for which she had prepared herself; and it proved almost equal to
any which had preceded it. But, knowing the importance of the step, she
cheerfully acquiesced with the fortitude of a Christian.
It was not alone on heathen minds that Mrs. Judson produced a pleasant
influence. The English residents at Tavoy, Maulmain, and Calcutta remember
her with affectionate interest. Many of them have in their houses or about
their persons the tokens of her kindness; and not a few can look back to
hours of sickness and affliction when a gentle hand smoothed the pillow and
a kind voice whispered in the ear words of hope and heaven. Often did she
meet in the praying circle with those who, like her, were far from home,
and exhort them to love and serve God; and in obedience to her kind
instructions many sought and found the Savior. For a prayer meeting of
mothers she wrote a beautiful hymn, which appeared in a journal in our
country, which is truly touching and beautiful. It is as follows:--
"Lamb of God, enthroned on high,
Look on us with pitying eye
While we raise our earnest cry
For our babes to thee.
Once thy followers infants spurned;
But thy bosom o'er them yearned,
Nor from Canaan's daughters turned
Thy all-pitying eye.
Thou didst give our spirits rest,
"When with sin and grief oppressed,
In thy gentle, loving breast:
Shelter, then, our babes.
Breath divine they breathe, and wear
God's own image; yet they bear
Sin and guilt a fearful share:
Pity them, we pray.
Guide and guard them here below,
As through dangerous paths they go;
Be their joy'mid earthly woe--
Thou, their heavenly Friend.
When, to call thy children home,
Robed in glory thou shalt come,
For these little ones make room,
Lamb of God, we pray."
Her union with Dr. Judson was a happy one. Four little babes were born unto
them ere the mother was called to try the realities of that world where
there are no separations. In the care and culture of these much of her time
was necessarily spent; and so excessive and fatiguing were her labors that
she soon began to sink under them. After the birth of her last child, which
was born in December, 1844, it became evident to her husband that he was
soon to be left alone. The wasting disease made its appearance, and the
pale form bowed beneath it. Her kind and experienced physicians, as a last
resort, recommended a voyage to America; and, after much consideration and
prayer, she determined to turn her back on Burmah and once more visit the
land of her nativity. A passage to this country was immediately secured;
and, in company with her husband, she set sail in the early part of 1845.
They had no sooner embarked than her health began to amend; and when they
reached the Isle of France Dr. Judson determined to return to his
labors, and leave his companion to visit America alone. They made their
arrangements to part--the one to labor and faint, the other to greet kind
friends in an often-remembered land. On the Isle of France the beautiful
poem, commencing,--
"We part on this green islet, love,"--
was written--a poem as affecting and heart-touching, when the circumstances
are recounted, as any one ever written.
But, on putting out to sea again, the disease returned with new symptoms
of alarm, and continued to increase until September 1, 1845, when she died
within sight of the rocky Island of St. Helena.
Thus a second time was the venerable Judson bereaved of his dear companion,
and in the midst of strangers called upon to surrender up the remains of
the loved one to corruption and decay. They buried her where the hero of
Lodi and Austerlitz slept, and a long train of mourners followed her to the
tomb. The flags of the vessels in the harbor were seen waving at half mast,
and signs of woe were observed in all directions.
She died in holy triumph, feeling that her labors were done, her toils
finished, her race ended, and her warfare accomplished. To the husband who
sat beside her when her last breath was drawn she said, just before she
expired, "I ever love the Lord Jesus;" and with her hand in his, her soul
leaning for support on the almighty arm, she sunk to rest. The sight which
St. Helena saw that day was a sad one--more sad than when the leader of the
defeated armies of France was laid to rest beneath its soil.
Perhaps this sketch of Mrs. J. cannot be brought to a close more
appropriately than by the introduction of a beautiful extract from an
address made by a distinguished statesman of New England at a missionary
convention in Philadelphia--an address which contains a beautiful reference
to the fallen missionary, to the labors of those who are now on heathen
soil, and to the sufferings of our Lord Jesus Christ while on earth
performing his labor of love and fulfilling his mission of grace to fallen
man:--