Foreigners Must Be Spies (1823 - 1824)

C H A P T E R X V

Foreigners Must Be Spies

[ 1823—1824 ]

HE little house—three rooms and a veranda—was finished exactly two weeks after they arrived. Nancy liked its location on the bank of the river, out of the dust of the town, but it was hot as an oven. Although it was raised on Stilts some four feet above the ground, so air could pass under, only brick would be able to keep out the stifling 108-degree and higher temperatures of the approaching summer season. But Adoniram had intended this house only as a temporary dwelling. He went ahead at once to secure bricks and hire masons for a brick house nCXt door.

They settled down into a routine almost at once. Adoniram was too busy with other things to translate, but he kept the manuscript of his Burmese New Testament with him against the day of its printing. Meanwhile, he preached Sundays at Dr. Price’s house across the river to an audience of eighteen or twenty who lived in the neighborhood.

Nancy began a little school with three small girls whom she taught to read, sew and do household tasks. Two of these girls were daughters of an insane mother, whose father, Maung Shway-bay, had given them to her to bring up. She named them “Mary Hasseltine” and “Abby Hasseltine” after her sisters in Bradford. “One of them,” she wrote to her family, “is to be supported with the money which the ‘Judson Association of Bradford Academy’ have engaged to collect. They are fine children, and improve as rapidly as any children in the world.”

At this time, too, they met Henry Gouger, one of the very few white men in Burma whom they did not already know. Gouger, still in his middle twenties, had found service in the East India Company too slow; had raised some money, secured a ship, and taken it to Ava more than a year before with the idea of making a fortdne fast. Irrepressibly cheerful, a genius at making friends, he had soon caught the attention of king and court. When he had discovered how the Burmese almost literally fought over his goods, which he considerately let them have at a profit of some 800 or 1000 per cent, he had gone back to Bengal, secured another ship, and returned to Ava in the fall of 1823. He had already become wealthy, but he had run into the problem that had baffled every European trader in Burma before him: he could not get his riches out of the country. The law forbade his removing gold or jewels or precious metals, and teak was so bulky that his profit would have vanished in the hire of the ships necessary to remove it.

Meanwhile, he enjoyed life in a way that would have scandalized many Englishmen. He wore his own version of native clothing——including the Burmese sandal, which he found infinitely more comfortable than European shoes; he employed two rascals named “the Red Rat” and “the Red Gold” to transact his more questionable dealings; he gave not a thought to prOpriety. He had no trouble securing meat, a difficulty for most Europeans on account of the Burmese taboo against killing animals for food. It was amazing how many goats and cows died “by accident” in the cellar beneath Gouger’s quarters. Officialdom made no complaint, because a quarter of the cow or kid which had suffered mishap always went to one or two key officials who had a taste for a nice roast themselves.

Seeing war on the way, Gouger had sent his ship down-river. Meanwhile be amused himself hunting—which, Strangely, was not forbidden—riding, and even, on occasion, helping to draw the emperor’s buggy. The buggy, a richly ornamented vehicle which had been the gift of some English embassy, was never drawn by horses. Instead, when the emperor went riding a number of Burmese (who were thus highly honored) stepped between the shafts and gaIIOped off dragging the embuggied monarch behind them. Acting as an honorary horse tickled Gouger and helped his relations with the emperor.

Gouger and Adoniram took to each other at once. Each enjoyed the other’s cheerfulness and keen sense of the ridiculous. Adoniram liked Gouger’s worldly wisdom, which appealed to something in his innately proud, ambitious nature that he was not always successful in sinking in humility. Gouger respected Adoniram’s intelligence and sincerity, and was able to sympathize with his occasional fits of deep depression—while confessing at the same time that Adoniram’s almOSt obsessive neatness and cleanliness, combined with his complete unconsciousness of the weird cut of his clothing (prod- UCt of a Bengalese tailor’s conception of the garb of the well-dressed Englishman) amused him intensely.

By contrast, the other white men in Ava had little to offer. Rodgers—“Yadza” as the Burmese called him—considered himself a Burman, as did Lanciego. Besides this, the competition between Rodgers and Lanciego had ripened into personal hatred and such quarreling that other Europeans avoided them so as not to be present at a possible encounter.

As for Price, he seemed almost to have taken leave of his senses. Lured by the magnetic attraction of imperial power, he had used such crude tactics of insinuation that the emperor had actually once turned his back on him. This had occurred at a Burmese “boxing match”-—-a peculiar sport in which each contestant tried to seize the other with his stin outstretched left arm while he hammered him on top of the head with the clenched fist of the other. Adoniram had thought it unbecoming for a man of religion to attend this match, but Price had lOSt any such scruples. Here, seeing Gouger in a place of honor by the emperor, Price had taken the gross liberty of entering the Golden Presence without invitation. His Majesty had immediately fallen silent, frowned, and turned his back in a snub under which even the thick-skinned doctor slunk away. Now Price was even more out of royal favor than was Rodgers.

But the doctor had capped even his early folly. He had next attempted an operation on an almost blind woman of Siamese descent which resulted in her losing even the little sight she had before. Price had thereupon decided to marry her “by way,” conjectured Gouger, “of compensation... as her plainness of person... was repulsive, nor was there any other conceivable motive.” Horrified, Adoniram refused to perform the ceremony: whereat Price issued an ultimatum even Adoniram could not withstand: “Brother judson, the law of America and of nature provides for cases where a miniSter is not to be found!”

T H E D A N G E R O U S It is understandable, then, that Gouger fell into the habit of Spending his evenings at the little wood house standing on its stilts beside the river. He attended family devotions and was impressed almost more by the converts than their converters because “it was impossible not to be struck with the reverence of demeanour, the propriety of language, and above all the knowledge of the New Testament and its saving doctrines which some of them manifested in their extempore prayer. No one who heard could doubt their sincerity.”

Up to this time Gouger had considered missions useless if not worse, an opinion Price’s behavior had not altered. But the many evenings he spent, that Spring of 1824, with Nancy and Adoniram changed his ideas completely. If these two people represented the missionary movement, then the missionary movement was the best thing that had happened in the Orient for centuries.

Although Adoniram and Nancy had avoided the boxing matches, elephant tamings, and other amusements which went along with the celebration of the emperor’s dedication of his new palace at Ava, they did see his triumphal entrance into the city.

I dare not [Nancy wrote] attempt a description of that Splendid day when majesty with all its attendant glory, entered the gates of the golden city, and amid the acclamations of millions, I may say, took possession of the palace. The saupwars of the provinces bordering on China, all the viceroys and high officers of the kingdom, were assembled on the occasion, dressed in their robes of state, and ornamented. with the insignia of their office. The white elephant, richly ornamented with gold and jewels, was one of the most beautiful objects in the procession. The king and queen alone were unadorned, dressed in the simple garb of the country; they hand in hand entered the garden in which we had taken our seats, and where a banquet was prepared for their refreshment. All the riches and glory of the empire were on this day exhibited to view. The number and immense size of the elephants, the numerous horses, and [the] great variety of vehicles of all descriptions, far surpassed any thing I have ever seen or imagined.

But the inStallation of the emperor in the new palace failed to bring any relaxation in the royal attitude toward Europeans. Instead, an order was soon issued that henceforth no foreigner would be allowed to enter it except Lanciego, Akoupwoon of Rangoon.

At the same time the war talk in the Court grew louder and louder. The Prince of Sarawady, the king’s brother, would expound to Adoniram half an hour at a time: “The English are the inhabitants of a small and remote island. What business have they to come in ships from a great distance to dethrone kings and take possession of countries they have no right to? They contrive to conquer and govern the black strangers with caste, who have puny frames and no courage. They have never yet fought with so strong and brave a peOple as the Burmans, skilled in the use of sword and spear. If they once fight with us, and we have an opportunity of manifesting our bravery, it will be an example to black natives, who are now slaves to the English, and encourage them to throw off their yoke.”

The women were even more outspoken. The sister of the king told Adoniram that “the English were afraid to fight; that their conduct on the frontier was mean and cowardly; that they were always disposed to treat and not to fight, and that upon some occasions, when the Burman and British troops met, the British officers held up their hands to entreat the Burmans not to advance.”

Gouger, circulating like Adoniram in quarters where he was still welcome, heard much the same. As a consequence, the foreigners were forced more and more into seclusion. Adoniram and Nancy did not mind too much. Nancy went on with her school, and Adoniram, having succeeded in assembling all the materials for a brick house, found masons and set them to work, and soon the walls had risen to a respectable height. In the evenings Gouger continued to Visit them and along with the news regaled them with stories of his past adventures at court. For instance, once, he told them, when the emperor’s meal was being taken away on a veritable procession of gold platters, he had brashly stepped up to one and lifted the cover. Underneath he found a number of what he thought were fried grasshoppers, looking a little like fried shrimp. He picked up one or two in his fingers and ate them. They were delicious, he solemnly assured the Judsons. But there was a variety of woodworm, a sort of white caterpillar about three inches long, served fried, which he had never been able to bring himself to eat. The deadblack head on the end, and the eyes looking up at him from the plate, were just a little too much. He had tried again and again, but every time he lifted one in his fingers to take a bite the reproach in those eyes made him lay it down again with a deep feeling of guilt and a sudden loss of appetite.... Henry Gouger would tell Adoniram and Nancy such stories as these while Adoniram’s book would be neglected in his lap and Nancy, sitting in the rocker Elnathan had given her, the little work table by her side, would forget her sewing. Then Gouger would burst into a peal of laughter, thinking of the fried worm or the time he was a human horse between the shafts of the king’s buggy, or the time the king promised him a three-hundred-and-fifty-pound bar of solid silver if he could lift it—and he would have, too, had not the sharp edges cut his fingers. And Adoniram and Nancy would laugh with him.

Thus there was a good deal of cheerfulness that spring among the three of them, even though the prospects for English merchants and American missionaries grew dimmer by the day. As Gouger and Adoniram exchanged views in sober moments, however, they agreed peace could not last much longer. Yet neither of them made a move to get out of the country. Gouger was bound to his unmovable treasure by a cord of greed. Adoniram and Nancy trusted in the fact that they had come to Ava on invitation from the Golden Voice.

One Sunday evening—May 23, 1824, to be exact—Henry Gouger took a canoe and paddled across the Irrawaddy to Dr. Price’s house in the village of Sagaing, where they were in the habit of meeting for Sunday worship. The house was in a singularly beautiful location, and surrounded by trees which framed the broad Irrawaddy rolling almost at their feet, catching glints of the dying sun in fading pink, soft yellow and steel gray.

This time the congregation consisted only of Gouger, Price, Nancy and Adoniram.

There was a peculiarly impressive character to the devotions that evening. All four knew by now that a storm was about to break over them, but of what kind, or when, or from what direction, they could not guess. None of them was received at the palace any more. Even the contacts of the heavily pursed Gouger were failing him, and for inside information he now had only his two spies, the Red Gold and the Red Rat.

They were just concluding services in the doctor’s living room and Adoniram was making a final prayer when a native messenger burst into the room. The news he chattered out made their hearts stand still.

A British fleet had arrived at Rangoon, had bombarded the city, and taken it. The native population had fled. There were no details: nothing about the safety of the Wades and Houghs, nothing about Richardson, Gouger’s assistant, who had been sent downstream with his ship.

The war had begun. The Burmese were in the habit of killing or enslaving their prisoners of war. What would they do with the foreigners in Ava?

The four talked the matter over disjointedly. Gouger was in the worst position by far. He was an Englishman, in Ava for no purpose but trade; he had wealth. More than one high official must be considering thoughtfully what he could do with that fortune if it should come into his keeping. Gouger had numerous connections with the Bengal government. His correspondence with India was heavy, and he had many financial transactions with banking houses in Calcutta. He had even acted as banker and financial agent for the Judsons. He would certainly be suspect as a British agent.

The missionaries were in a different position. They had no commercial interests. More important, they were Americans. Their safety would depend on their completely separate nationality. In the future they would have to emphasize that. Price, Adoniram and Nancy all agreed that from this night on they must have no contact with Gouger. If he were taken, they might be able to help him from outside. But if they were seen together, they might all be taken together. Gouger simply muSt not visit any of them any more. Ruefully, Gouger concurred.

They were not worried about Rodgers. He would carefully avoid all of them. He was a completely naturalized Burmese subject. He would count on that and his long experience in court intrigue to save him. As to Lanciego, as the only foreigner allowed to enter the palace, he seemed to stand high.

No, the real problem was Gouger. He would have to go into a sort of quarantine.

Gouger paddled alone across the river to his own house. The Red Rat was waiting for him. He approved the decision made at Dr. Price’s house. Henceforth, Gouger would be a political and social leper. Within a day Lanciego, whose house was nearby, sent him a message to tell him so explicitly. Lanciego, like Rodgers, was being more than careful to keep his own skirts clear. Gouger prowled his house moodily, blaming himself for his stupidity in not going earlier, treasure or no treasure, and blaming the Judsons for their idiocy in hoping to advance Christianity in an Ava obviously abOUt to commence war with a Christian nation.

In a few days Adoniram and Nancy heard that the king’s brother, the Prince of Sarawady, had sent a message to Gouger saying that “the few foreigners residing in Ava had nothing to do with the war and should not be molested.” This word from such a high source made them feel easier. They would not have felt so easy if they had known that the actual tenor of the message had gone something like this: “The Prince of Sarawady presents his compliments to Mr. Gouger, and, having formed a partiality for him, would be sorry to see his throat cut, and recommends him to come quickly to his Palace, where the Prince would like to see the man who dares to touch him. P.S.—Mr. Gouger had better bring his wine and beer, gold and silver, for safety.”

Gouger consulted with the Red Rat, who looked at him with a sort of contempt when he saw that Gouger actually took the message seriously.

“Sahib,” he said, “if the Prince were to know what I am going to tell you, my life would not be worth a day’s purchase. This offer is only made that he may get you and your property in his power. You would then find a grave in his garden, as many persons have done before when it suited his purpose. He knows you have a great deal of gold and silver, and thinks he may as well get it as anyone else. \When you came to he demanded by the Hlut-dau, as you would be, the only answer he could give would be that you had died, and there the matter might end. You will stand a better chance by remaining quiet, and allowing yourself to be apprehended by the Wungyis, and diSposed of according to their pleasure.”

This advice made sense to Gouger. He dispatched a reply to the effect that, “With a thousand thanks for his benevolent intentions, I have such perfect confidence in the promise of protection given me by His Majesty, that I repose without fear, knowing he would not permit any violence to be done to a stranger, who lives under his favour.”

But this Adoniram and Nancy did not know. And in a few days they saw a change of sentiment in the city which they thought might work in their favor.

After the first rage at Rangoon’s loss, a curious satisfaction came over the people. They decided, from the emperor down, that the ignorant British had entered a trap, and feared only that the invaders might plunder Rangoon and leave before Bandula’s army could arrive. Some feared, too, that the British might see Bandula’s army and run away before slaves could be taken. Maung Ing and other disciples brought the news of the palace feeling. One young courtier told a Burmese officer, “Bring me six white strangers to row my boat.” The wife of a Wungyi had a similar request, “Send me four white Strangers to manage the affairs of my house, as I understand they are trusty servants.”

Every day, from their little wooden house on the river shore, Adoniram and Nancy could see the war boats passing, and the warriors. Often, Adoniram would see them dancing on the decks as they went down the river. “Poor fellows!” he would think, shaking his head. “You will probably never dance again.” But the soldiers proclaimed in song and gesture how they would lead those foolhardy English back to Ava with rings through their noses.

That was the first Burmese reaction. The second came within a few days. How could those English ships have appeared before Rangoon so unexpectedly, when Bandula had intended to make the first onslaught upon the English himself? Foreign strangers had arrived in Rangoon within the last year or so. Foreign strangers had arrived in Ava. They must be Spies. All the Burmese plans must have been reported to the English as soon as they were made.

Now something happened to give color to this suspicion. There was a Captain Laird, a Sc0t who had sought to be the Prince of Sarawady’s agent in Rangoon for the sale of teak from the Prince’s great foreSts. At the Prince’s order Laird had been brought by force from Rangoon to Ava shortly before the English fleet had appeared before Rangoon. Fortunately for him, he had not carried enough money on his person to find a resting place in the bottom of the Prince’s garden. He had arrived in Ava only a few days before the news of the capture of Rangoon.

Laird had carried a recent Calcutta newspaper, one paragraph of which indicated that the British government was considering an eXpedition against Rangoon. He had shown the newSpaper to Gouger in the presence of the Prince. And with insane folly he had let it be translated to the Prince at the same time.

Within a few days, Adoniram and Nancy learned that Gouger, Laird and Rodgers had been taken in custody for questioning, under suspicion of having withheld the news in the paper from His Majesty. Gouger, furthermore, was accused of making maps of the country. Actually, they had been crude sketches of temples and scenes around Ava which he had made for a friend; but he had used measuring instruments to get the proportions right. He was also accused of being “brother-in-law to the East India Company” in disguise. As for Adoniram and Price, they were soon queStioned too. They had written many letters. Were they reports to foreign countries? No, explained both men. They had written for years to friends in the United States. But that was another country, thousands of miles from England. They had never written to British officers, or the Bengal government.

For the present, they were allowed to return home.’

The examiners turned to Gouger’s financial records. They soon discovered that Adoniram and Price had received substantial amounts of money from him, paid on orders to Bengal commercial houses. Gouger insiSted this was standard European business practice—he simply cashed the missionaries’ checks, the checks were forwarded to Calcutta, and the money deposited to his credit there.

The Burmese examiners looked at each Other with significant smiles. Who ever heard of such a lame explanation? The very thought of a man paying out money to another man merely on a slip of paper— the real author being at a distance — was ridiculous. The conclusion was obvious: The Americans must he in the pay of the Englishman. They too must he spies.