When Mr. and Mrs. Judson left Rangoon to establish their home in Ava, the
outlook was encouraging. They had left behind them a small but vigorous church
of eighteen converted Burmans, under the care of Mr. and Mrs. Hough and Mr.
and Mrs. Wade. They had been invited by the king to live in the capital city,
and had received from him a plot of ground on which to build a mission house.
They felt sure of royal protection and favor. Many persons of high rank seemed
kindly disposed to the new religion; while Dr. Price had won golden opinions
by his medical skill. They immediately commenced the building of a little
dwelling-house, and Mrs. Judson soon had a school of three native girls.
Mr. Judson preached in Burmese every Sunday at Dr. Price's house, and held
worship every evening.
A dark cloud, however, was gathering on the horizon. War was impending between
Burma and the English government in India. For two years the Christians of
America were kept in a state of terrible suspense, unbroken by any tidings
from their missionaries in Ava, which was only assuaged by fervent and universal
prayer on their behalf.
The occasion of the war was Chittagong, that particular strip of low land
lying along the sea and flanking Burma on the west, to which Mr. Colman had
gone to prepare an asylum for the Judsons, in case they should be driven
out of Rangoon. This district was under British rule, and refugees from the
cruel despotism of Burma had taken shelter there. The Burman monarch insisted
that his victims should be arrested by the English authorities and handed
over to him. Besides, he felt that Chittagong belonged naturally to Burma.
And such was his pride and his contempt for British prowess, that he deemed
it quite possible for him not only to recover this territory, but even to
conquer the whole of Bengal.
When war actually broke out, suspicion fell at once on all the white foreigners
residing in Ava. They were thought to be spies secretly acting in collusion
with the English government. They were immediately arrested, fettered, and
thrown into the death prison.
I was seized," Dr. Judson writes, "on the 8th of June, 1824, in
consequence of the war with Bengal, and in company with Dr. Price, three
Englishmen, one American, and one Greek, was thrown into the death prison
at Ava, where we lay eleven months -- nine months in three pairs, and two
months in five pairs of fetters. The scenes we witnessed and the sufferings
we underwent during that period I would fain consign to oblivion. From the
death prison at Ava we were removed to a country prison at Oung-pen-la, ten
miles distant, under circumstances of such severe treatment, that one of
our number, the Greek, expired on the road; and some of the rest, among whom
was myself, were scarcely able to move for several days. It was the intention
of the government in removing us from Ava, to have us sacrificed in order
to insure victory over the foreigners; but the sudden disgrace and death
of the adviser of that measure prevented its execution. I remained in the
Oung-pen-la prison six months in one pair of fetters; at the expiration of
which period I was taken out of irons, and sent under a strict guard to the
Burmese headquarters at Mah-looan, to act as interpreter and translator.
Two months more elapsed, when on my return to Ava, I was released at the
instance of Moung Shwa-loo, the north governor of the palace, and put under
his charge. During the six weeks that I resided with him the affairs of the
government became desperate, the British troops making steady advances on
the capital; and after Dr. Price had been twice dispatched to negotiate for
peace (a business which I declined as long as possible), I was taken by force
and associated with him. We found the British above Pah-gan; and on returning
to Ava with their final terms, I had the happiness of procuring the release
of the very last of my fellow-prisoners; and on the 21st instant, obtained
the reluctant consent of the government to my final departure from Ava with
Mrs. Judson."
In these few modest words Mr. Judson passes over all the prolonged horrors
which he endured in the confinement of an Oriental jail. Let us glance at
his experience more in detail. His imprisonment was remarkable for its duration.
For nine months he was confined in three pairs of fetters, two months in
five, six months in one; for two months be was a prisoner at large; and for
nearly two months, although released from prison, he was yet restrained in
Ava under the charge of the north governor of the palace, so that his confinement
reached nearly to the end of twenty-one long months.
Again, for most of the time of his confinement he was shut up in a loathsome,
wretched place. It derived its remarkable, well-selected name, Let-ma-yoon --
literally interpreted, Hand, shrink not -- from the revolting
scenes of cruelty practiced within its walls. To those acquainted with the
Burmese language the name conveys a peculiar impression of terror. It contemplates
the extreme of human suffering, and when this has reached a point at which
our nature recoils -- when it is supposed that any one bearing the human
form might well refuse to be the instrument to add to it, the hand of the
executioner is apostrophized and encouraged not to follow the dictates of
the heart: "Thine eye shall not pity and thine hand not spare."
The Let-ma-yoon was a building about forty feet long and thirty feet wide.
It was five or six feet high along the sides, but as the roof sloped, the
center of it was perhaps double that height. There was no ventilation except
through the chinks between the boards and through the door, which was generally
closed. On the thin roof poured the burning rays of a tropical sun. In this
room were confined nearly one hundred prisoners of both sexes and all nationalities.
Dr. Price thus describes the impressions he received on entering the prison:
"A little bamboo door opened, and I rose to go toward it. But oh! who
can describe my sensations? shackled like a common felon in the care of hangmen
the off scouring of the country, turned like a dog into his kennel, my wife,
my dear family, left to suffer alone all the rudeness such wretches are capable
of. The worst, however, was yet to come; for making the best of my way up
the high steps, I was ushered into the grand apartment. Horror of horrors,
what a sight! never to my dying day shall I forget the scene: a dim lamp
in the midst, just making darkness visible, and discovering to my horrified
gaze sixty or seventy wretched objects some in long rows made fast in the
stocks, some strung on long poles, some simply fettered; but all sensible
of a new acquisition of misery in the approach of a new prisoner. Stupefied,
I stopped to gaze, till goaded on, I proceeded toward the farther end, when
I again halted. A new and unexpected sight met my eyes. Till now I had been
kept in ignorance of the fate of my companions. A long row of white objects,
stretched on the floor in a most crowded situation, revealed to me however
but too well their sad state, and I was again urged forward. Poor old Rodgers,
wishing to retain the end of the bamboo, made way for me to be placed alongside
of Mr. Judson.
"'We all hoped you would have escaped, you were so long coming,' was
the first friendly salutation I had yet received; but alas, it was made by
friends whose sympathy was now unavailing."
The following description of the interior of this jail is given by an English
fellow-prisoner of Mr. Judson:
"The only articles of furniture the place contained were these: First,
and most prominent, was a gigantic row of stocks, similar in its construction
to that formerly used in England, but now nearly extinct, though dilapidated
specimens may still be seen in some of the marketplaces of our own country
towns. It was capable of accommodating more than a dozen occupants, and like
a huge alligator opened and shut its jaws with a loud snap upon its prey.
Several smaller reptiles, interesting varieties of the same species, lay
basking around this monster, each holding by the leg a pair of hapless victims
consigned to its custody. There were heavy logs of timber, bored with holes
to admit the feet, and fitted with wooden pins to hold them fast. In the
center of the apartment was placed a tripod, holding a large earthen cup
filled with earth-oil, to be used as a lamp during the night-watches; and
lastly, a simple but suspicious looking piece of machinery whose painful
uses it was my fate to test before many hours had elapsed. It was merely
a long bamboo suspended from the roof by a rope at each end, and worked by
blocks or pulleys, to raise or depress it at pleasure.
"Before me, stretched on the floor, lay forty or fifty hapless wretches,
whose crimes or misfortunes had brought them into this place of torment.
They were all nearly naked, and the half-famished features and skeleton frames
of many of them too plainly told the story of their protracted sufferings.
Very few were without chains, and some had one or both feet in the stocks
besides. A sight of such squalid wretchedness can hardly be imagined. Silence
seemed to be the order of the day; perhaps the poor creatures were so engrossed
with their own misery that they hardly cared to make any remarks on the intrusion
of so unusual an inmate as myself.
"The prison had never been washed, nor even swept, since it was built.
So I was told, and have no doubt it was true, for, besides the ocular proof
from its present condition, it is certain no attempt was made to cleanse
it during my subsequent tenancy of eleven months. This gave a kind of fixedness
or permanency to the fetid odors, until the very floors and walls were saturated
with them, and joined in emitting the pest. As might have been expected from
such a state of things, the place was teeming with creeping vermin to such
an extent that very soon reconciled me to the plunder of the greater portion
of my dress."
Surely it was enough for Mr. Judson to be shut up in the hot, stifling stench
of a place like this without having his ankles and legs weighted with five
pairs of irons, the scars from which he wore to his dying day. He could say
with the Apostle Paul, "I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus." In
each pair of fetters the two iron rings were connected by a chain so short
that the heel of one foot could hardly be advanced to the toe of the other;
and this task could be accomplished only by "shuffling a few inches
at a time." The five pairs of irons weighed about fourteen pounds, and
when they were removed after being long worn, there was a strained sensation,
the equilibrium of the body seemingly being destroyed, so that the head was
too heavy for the feet. Then at nightfall, lest the prisoners should escape,
they were "strung" on a bamboo pole.
"When night came on," writes one of Mr. Judson's fellow-prisoners, "the
'Father' of the establishment, entering, stalked toward our corner. The meaning
of the bamboo now became apparent. It was passed between the legs of each
individual, and when it had threaded our number, seven in all, a man at each
end hoisted it up by the blocks to a height which allowed our shoulders to
rest on the ground, while our feet depended from the iron rings of the fetters.
The adjustment of the height was left to the judgment of our kind-hearted
parent, who stood by to see that it was not high enough to endanger life,
nor low enough to exempt from pain.
In the morning, our considerate parent made his appearance, and with his customary
grin, lowered the bamboo to within a foot of the floor, to the great relief
of our benumbed limbs, in which the blood slowly began again to circulate."
When Mr. Judson was subjected to these indignities and tortures, he was in
the very prime of life -- thirty-six years old. He had come to that age when
a good physical constitution is thoroughly seasoned and well qualified to
endure hardship. He had always taken the best care of his health. Even before
leaving America, he had adopted the following rules: First, frequently to
inhale large quantities of air, so as to expand the lungs to the uttermost;
secondly, daily to sponge the whole body in cold water; and thirdly, and
above all, to take systematic exercise in walking.
Again, he had that tough, wiry physique which endures unexpectedly even during
prolonged crises. All this was in his favor. But on the other hand, he was
a student, unused to suffering hardship. His naturally vigorous constitution
had been somewhat enfeebled by ten years of close application to study in
a tropical climate, and of late years it had been completely shattered by
repeated attacks of fever and ague. He was reared in the cold, bracing air
of New England, and during the tedious hours of imprisonment, how often must
his memory have projected the sufferings of the Oriental jail against the
background of the cool, green hillsides of his childhood!
He was possessed moreover of an active, methodical nature, to which the enforced
idleness of twenty-one months must have brought the keenest torture. There
was his Burman Bible unfinished, and ten years of work in Rangoon going to
pieces in his absence. He longed to be preaching the gospel. Now that he
had at last completely mastered the native tongue, he was filled with Jeremiah's
consuming zeal: "His word was in mine heart, and a burning fire shut
up in my bones."
Endowed with a nervous temperament, his nature was exceedingly sensitive to
discomfort. One of his fellow-prisoners says: "His painful sensitiveness
to anything gross or uncleanly, amounting almost to folly, was an unfortunate
virtue to possess, and made him live a life of constant martyrdom."
A nature amply endowed with these fine sensibilities must have instinctively
shrunk from the filth of the dungeon and the squalor of the prisoners; while
the constrained and crowded position, night and day, and the galling fetters
were almost unendurable.
There was also much to shock his moral nature. He found himself thrown into
close association with the basest criminals of the Burman capital. His pure
look rested upon their repulsive features, his reluctant ears were filled
with their vulgar and blasphemous jests. Besides this, again and again be
saw the wretched prisoner tortured with the cord and mallet, and was forced
to hear the writhing victim's shriek of anguish.
He was likewise a man of the strongest and tenderest affections. What keen
mental anguish must he have experienced at the thought of his beloved wife
threading alone the hot, crowded streets, hourly exposed to the insults of
rude Burman officials; day by day bringing or sending food to the jail; assuaging
the wretchedness of the prisoners by bribing their keepers; pleading for
the release of her husband with one Burman officer after another, and with
such pathetic eloquence that on one occasion she melted to tears even the
old governor of the prison; carrying her little Maria all the way in her
arms to that place never to be forgotten, Oung-pen-la, her only conveyance
a rough cart, the violent motion of which, together with the dreadful heat
and dust, made her almost distracted; nursing her infant and the little native
girls under her care through a course of small-pox: and at last, breaking
down herself and brought to death's door by the same loathsome disease, succeeded
by the dread spotted fever!
Add to these horrors of Mr. Judson's imprisonment the daily and even hourly
anticipation of torture and death, and it will be difficult to conceive of
a denser cloud of miseries than that which settled down on his devoted head.
The prisoners knew that they were arrested as spies. The Burman king and
his generals were exasperated by the rapid and unexpected successes of the
English army, and Mr. Judson and his fellow-prisoners had every reason to
suppose that this pent-up fury would be poured upon their heads. It was customary
to question the prisoner with instruments of torture -- the cord and
the iron mallet. Rumors of a frightful doom were constantly sounding in their
ears. Now they heard their keepers during the night sharpening the knives
to decapitate the prisoners the next morning; now the roar of their mysterious
fellow-prisoner, a huge, starving lioness, convinced them that they were
to be executed by being thrown into her cage; now it was reported that they
were to be burned up together with their prison as a sacrifice; now that
they were to be buried alive at the head of the Burman army in order to insure
its victory over the English. The following description by Mr. Gouger of
the solemn hour of three, shows the exquisite mental torture to which the
prisoners were subjected:
"Within the walls nothing worthy of notice occurred until the hour of
three in the afternoon. As this hour approached, we noticed that the talking
and jesting of the community gradually died away; all seemed to be under
the influence of some powerful restraint, until that fatal hour was announced
by the deep tones of a powerful gong suspended in the palace-yard, and a
death-like silence prevailed. If a word was spoken it was in a whisper. It
seemed as though even breathing was suspended under the control of a panic
terror, too deep for expression, which pervaded every bosom. We did not long
remain in ignorance of the cause. If any of the prisoners were to suffer
death that day, the hour of three was that at which they were taken out for
execution. The very manner of it was the acme of cold-blooded cruelty. The
hour was scarcely tolled by the gong when the wicket opened, and the hideous
figure of a spotted man appeared, who without uttering a word walked straight
to his victim, now for the first time probably made acquainted with his doom.
As many of these unfortunate people knew no more than ourselves the fate
that awaited them, this mystery was terrible and agonizing; each one fearing,
up to the last moment, that the stride of the spotted terror might be directed
his way. When the culprit disappeared with his conductor, and the prison
door closed behind them, those who remained began again to breathe more freely;
for another day, at least, their lives were safe.
"I have described this process just as I saw it practiced. On this first
day, two men were thus led away in total silence; not a useless question
was asked by the one party, nor explanation given by the other; all was too
well understood. After this inhuman custom was made known to us, we could
not but participate with the rest in their diurnal misgivings, and shudder
at the sound of the gong and the apparition of the pahquet. It was
a solemn daily lesson of an impressive character, 'Be ye also ready.'"
It is no wonder that Mr. Judson, in the midst of these horrors, took refuge
in the quietism of Madame Guyon, and used often to murmur her beautiful lines:
No place
I seek, but to fulfill
In life and death thy lovely will;
No succor in my woes I want,
Except what thou art pleased to grant.
Our days are numbered -- let us spare
Our anxious hearts a needless care;
'Tis thine to number out our days,
And ours to give them to thy praise. |
More Information on Adoniram
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