The Black-sealed Letter (1826)

C H A P T E R X X I I

The Black-sealed Letter

[ 1826 ]

ARCH 6, 1826, Adoniram and Nancy left Yandabo for Rangoon aboard the gunboat Irrawaddy. They arrived at the mission house, a ruin, but still standing, March 21. They had been away from it for two years and three months.

The Houghs and the Wades had gone back to Calcutta. They had been peacefully at work printing Adoniram’s Burmese dictionary that day in 1824 when the British had attacked Rangoon. They had been imprisoned, and their deaths decreed, when the invaders’ bombardment began. Fortunately for them, their captors had fled in panic when the British entered the city.

The war had dispersed almost all of the little congregation. Maung Shway-bay had remained in the mission house. The learned Maung Shwa-gnong, they heard, was alive somewhere in the interior. Mah Men-lay and her sister had been at Prome and returned with them to Rangoon. But most had died or disappeared. The work had all to be begun again, and without Price. He had decided to remain at Ava in the employment of the king.

The treaty of Yandabo had left Rangoon in Burmese hands. Adoniram and Nancy saw no reason to suppose there would be any more religious toleration in Burmese-ruled territory than before. There might even be less, as an expression of vindictiveness.

The distinguished orientalist John Crawfurd had been named civil commissioner under the British governor general, Lord Amherst. One of his firSt tasks was to select a new capital for the provinces which had passed to English control, and he asked Adoniram to go along. Adoniram, knowing the value of a secure base for missionary activity, agreed, and ten days after arriving in Rangoon left with Crawfurd aboard the steamboat for Martaban, in the direction of the Salween River. At the mouth of the Salween was a harbor with good anchorage. The peninsula at the river’s mouth was selected as the best site for a capital. I-Iere, April 6, 1826, the British flag was hoisted, a salute of guns fired, and the place given the name of Amherst. Adoniram concluded the ceremony by reading the sixtieth chapter of Isaiah, an apt dedication of a new city, and offering prayer.

By April 10, Adoniram was back at Rangoon with Nancy. He was enthusiastic about the place, and certain it would become a great center from which they could propagate the GOSpel. He immediately had the old zayat torn down and arranged for shipping the boards to AmherSt for use in making a shelter against the coming rainy season.

Nancy too was elated. There would be plenty of Burmese to convert, and, most important, they would “have no longer to solicit the patronage of a haughty monarch for the establishment of our mission, or to court the favour of the Woongyees, to prevent the persecution of the converts.” By April 26 they had sent ahead four of the native Christian families, among them Maung Ing and Maung Shway-bay to prepare dwelling places.

Adoniram and Nancy did not get away until the end of June because of a proposal made by Crawfurd. The Treaty of Yandabo had provided for negotiation of a commercial treaty between the East India Company and the Burmese government, to “open the gold and silver road,” as the Burmese version eXpressed it. With merchants able to take out gold and silver, as in Other countries, and relief from some of the Other peculiarly vexatious Burmese impediments to trade, commerce was eXpected to deveIOp rapidly. Crawfurd was to negotiate the commercial treaty and wanted Adoniram above any one in Burma as translator and adviser.

Adoniram declined. He had no desire to serve the East India Company, and such a role might link him, in Burmese eyes, with the hated British. But Crawfurd finally brought out an irresistible inducement: he promised to try to get an article inserted in the treaty guaranteeing religious freedom to all the people of Burma. When Nancy heard this, she would not hear of Adoniram’s refusing.

Because for a missionary the salary would be very large, Adoniram decided to settle once and for all the question of whether a missionary should enter any service but that of the mission -— and especially whether, if it were necessary for a time, he should keep the money he received. He decided any such money should be considered the property of the organization supporting him, not his own. Therefore, on June 10, he recommended to the correSponding secretary in BOSton a set of rules covering the matter. Following his own recommendation, he later turned over to the Board some 2000 rupees realized from presents made him at Ava and 2500 rupees paid him by the East India Company.

But before leaving for Ava with Crawfurd, he wanted to see Nancy and little Maria properly settled. On June 29 they left Rangoon aboard the Phoenix, and on july 2 landed -at the mouth of the Salween River. Captain Fenwick, civil superintendent of Amherst, turned over to Nancy a temporary house he had juSt erected for his own use.

Nancy was delighted with Amherst. She liked the air of the country and the pioneer feel of the new town. It had only about fifty houses, mOStly native, a mile or so from the military post on the west side of the peninsula. Maung Ing’s and Maung Shwaybay’s houses, which were among the firSt to be built, actually edged into the jungle “and disturbed the deer and wild fowl which had been the undisputed occupants of the peninsula.”

She set to work at once to Start a school and to supervise the building of a mission house, but Adoniram stayed only long enough to see her safely settled. Three days after their arrival, he left for Rangoon on the Phoenix. Preparations for the embassy to Ava kept him busy through the reSt of July and Augu5t. September first the steam-driven Diana Started upriver with a full party of officers assisting Crawfurd, a medical officer, Adoniram, and a botaniSt who was to evaluate the teak resources of the country. Accompanying the Steamer were five Burmese boats carrying writers, draftsmen, baggage, presents to the court and a guard of honor consisting of twenty-eight picked grenadiers and light infantry of His Majesty’s 87th Regiment and 15 picked Sepoy grenadiers. Adoniram was traveling in style.

At Ava it became clear that the war had not changed the character of the Burmese government. Delay followed delay. The second installment of the indemnity was three months overdue and the British army was waiting for it in Rangoon. The principal object of the Burmese negotiators was to avoid paying it. The business dragged out in meeting after meeting. As to the commercial treaty, that got hardly anywhere. The Burmese simply could not understand the idea of letting gold and silver move freely in and out of Burma as money; and it became more evident every day that there was no hope of a clause providing for religious toler_ation.

Perhaps the best example of the court attitude was the account of the recent war which the royal historian had written and recorded in the official Burmese chronicles and which Adoniram translated for Crawfurd:

In the years 1186 and 87, the Kalu pya, or white Strangers of the East, fastened a quarrel upon the Lord of the Golden Palace. They landed at Rangoon, took that place and Prome, were permitted to advance as far as Yandabo; for the King, from motives of piety and regard to life, made no effort whatsoever to oppose them. The strangers had spent vast sums of money in their enterprise; and by the time they reached Yandabo, their resources were exhausted, and they were in great distress. They petitioned the King, who, in his clemency and generosity, sent them large sums of money to pay their expenses back and ordered them out of the country.

As October drifted into November, Adoniram fretted. He was wasting his time. But he had committed himself to the embassy and had to stay with it.

Occasionally he received a letter from Nancy. They had parted cheerfully and the same cheerfulness prevailed in her letters. One dated November 14. went in part:

I have this day moved into the new house, and for the first time since we were broken up at Ava, feel myself at home. The house is large and convenient, and if you were here, I should feel quite happy. The native population is increasing fast, and things wear a rather favourable aspect. Maung Ing’s school has commenced with ten scholars, and more are expected. Poor little Maria is still feeble. Sometimes I hope she is getting better; then again she declines to her former weakness. When I ask her where Papa is, she always starts up and points toward the sea. The servants behave very well, and I have no trouble about any thing, excepting you and Maria. Pray take care of yourself, particularly as it regards the intermittent fever at Ava. May God preserve and bless you, and restore you in safety to your new and old home, is the prayer of your affectionate Ann.

The news about Maria disturbed him, but he viewed it as hopefully as he could. Perhaps the better climate at Amherst would help her through her first year, now that her mother could give her the loving care a baby needed.

Early in November Adoniram had a letter from Captain F enwick mentioning that “Mrs. Judson is extremely well.” But he had not received a letter from Nancy herself since that one written in the middle of September, and he wondered why she had not written again.

He found out in another letter from Captain Fenwick dated October 18, which he received about the middle of November:

I can hardly think it right to tell you, that Mrs. Judson has had an attack of fever as before this reaches you, she will, I sincerely trust, be quite well, as it has not been so severe as to reduce her. This was occasioned by too close attendance on the child. However, her cares have been rewarded in a most extraordinary manner, as the poor baby, at one time, was so reduced, that no rational hope could be entertained of its recovery; but at present a most favourable change has taken place, and she has improved wonderfully. Mrs. Judson had no fever last night, so that the intermission is now complete. Adoniram’s mind was relieved. No wonder Nancy had not written! Busy night and day with Maria until she came down with fever herself, she certainly had no time to pen letters, even to her husband. As for little Maria, he feared she would have a hard fight. Word of her illness was no surprise. For a long time he had felt it necessary to be prepared for worse.

Then on the twenty-fourth of November, Adoniram received anOther letter. The man who had brought it up the river handed it to him with the words, “I am sorry to inform you of the death of your child.” Adoniram took it and went up to his room in Price’s house at Sagaing, where the embassy had been staying for almost a month. It bore a black seal, and even as he turned it Over in his hands he felt grateful that at least Nancy was spared.

He sat down, broke the seal, and began to read. It was dated more than a month ago, October 26, 1826, and from Captain Fenwick’s assistant. He braced himself for the task of absorbing the details of little Maria’s final illness. He read several lines before his mind grasped the real import of the words:

MY DEAR SIR: To one has suffered so much and with such exemplary fortitude, there needs but little preface to tell a tale of distress. It were cruel indeed to torture you with doubt and suspense. To sum up the unhappy tidings in a few words—Mrs. Judson is no more.

He stopped, the words swimming before his eyes. He seemed to feel no emotion but a kind of iciness and a sensation that time had stopped. For a moment the room seemed to turn over. For the next five or ten minutes, Adoniram forced himself little by little to read the rest of the letter...

Early in the month she was attacked with a most violent fever. From the firSt she felt a strong presentiment that she would not recover, and on the 24th about eight in the evening, she expired. Dr. R. was quite assiduous in his attentions, both as friend and physician. Capt. F. procured her the services of a European woman from the 45th regiment, and be assured all was done, that could be done, to comfort her in her sufferings, and to smooth the passage to the grave. We all feel deeply the loss of this excellent lady, whose shortness of residence among us was yet sufficiently long, to impress us with a deep sense of her worth and virtues. It was not until about the 20th that Dr. R. began seriously to suspect danger. Before that period, the fever had abated at intervals; but its last approach baffled all medical skill. On the morning of the 23rd, Mrs. Judson spoke for the last time. The disease had then completed its conquest, and from that time up to the moment of dissolution, she lay nearly motionless, and apparently quite insensible. Yesterday morning, I assisted in the last melancholy office of putting her mortal remains in the coffin; and in the evening her funeral was attended by all the European officers now resident here. We have buried her near the spot where she first landed; and I have put up a small rude fence around the grave to protect it from incautious intrusions.——-Your little girl Maria is much better. Mrs. has taken charge of her; and I hope she will continue to thrive under her care.

This was the subStance of the letter. Adoniram’s eyes mechanically went back over three or four lines to make sure again of the sense of the handwriting.

All at once desolation overwhelmed him. The letter fell to the floor. He began to weep, softly at first, later with hoarse, racking sobs. Finally, as the full, crushing weight of the letter’s meaning descended upon him, he leaned forward over the writing table in front of him and pillowed his head on his arms.

P A R T T H R E E

To the Golden Shore

[ 1826—1850 ]