“The Government now did not even ask Mr. Judson the question whether he would go or not; but some of the officers took him by the arm, as he was walking in the street, and told him he must go immediately on board the boat, to accompany two Burmese officers, a woon-gyee and woon-douk, who were going down to make peace. Most of the English prisoners were sent at the same time. The general and commissioners would not receive the six lacks, neither would they stop their march; but promised, if the sum complete reached them before they should arrive at Ava, they would make peace. The general also commissioned Mr. Judson to collect the remaining foreigners, of whatever country, and ask the question, before the Burmese Government, whether they wished to go or stay. Those who expressed a wish to go should be delivered up immediately, or peace would not be made.

“Mr. Judson reached Ava at midnight, had all the foreigners called the next morning, and the question asked. Some of the members of Government said to him, ‘You will not leave us; you shall become a great man if you will remain.’ He then secured himself from the odium of saying that he wished to leave the service of his majesty, by recurring to the order of Sir Archibald, that whoever wished to leave Ava should be given up, and that I had expressed a wish to go, so that he of course must follow. The remaining part of the twenty-five lacks was soon collected; the prisoners at Oung-pen-la were all released, and either sent to their houses, or down the river to the English; and in two days from the time of Mr. Judson’s return, we took an affectionate leave of the good-natured officer who had so long entertained us at his house, and who now accompanied us to the waterside, and we then left forever the banks of Ava.

“It was on a cool, moonlight evening, in the month of March, that with hearts filled with gratitude to God, and overflowing with joy at our prospects, we passed down the Irrawaddy, surrounded by six or eight golden boats, and accompanied by all we had on earth. The thought that we had still to pass the Burman camp would sometimes occur to damp our joy, for we feared that some obstacle might there arise to retard our progress. Nor were we mistaken in our conjectures. We reached the camp about midnight, where we were detained two hours; the woon-gyee and high officers insisting that we should wait at the camp, while Dr. Price, who did not return to Ava with your brother, but remained at the camp, should go on with the money, and first ascertain whether peace would be made. The Burmese Government still entertained the idea that, as soon as the English had received the money and prisoners, they would continue their march, and yet destroy the capital. We knew not but that some circumstance might occur to break off the negotiations. Mr. Judson therefore strenuously insisted that he would not remain, but go on immediately. The officers were finally prevailed on to consent, hoping much from Mr. Judson’s assistance in making peace.

“We now, for the first time for more than a year and a half, felt that we were free, and no longer subject to the oppressive yoke of the Burmese. And with what sensations of delight, on the next morning, did I behold the masts of the steamboat, the sure presage of being within the bounds of civilized life! As soon as our boat reached the shore, Brigadier A. and another officer came on board, congratulated us on our arrival, and invited us on board the steamboat, where I passed the remainder of the day; while your brother went on to meet the general, who, with a detachment of the army, had encamped at Yandabo, a few miles farther down the river. Mr. Judson returned in the evening, with an invitation from Sir Archibald to come immediately to his quarters, where I was the next morning introduced, and received with the greatest kindness by the general, who had a tent pitched for us near his own, took us to his own table, and treated us with the kindness of a father, rather than as strangers of another country.

“We feel that our obligations to General Campbell can never be cancelled. Our final release from Ava, and our recovering all the property that had there been taken, was owing entirely to his efforts. His subsequent hospitality, and kind attention to the accommodations for our passage to Rangoon, have left an impression on our minds which can never be effaced. We daily received the congratulation of the British officers, whose conduct toward us formed a striking contrast to that of the Burmese. I presume to say that no persons on earth were ever happier than we were during the fortnight we passed at the English camp. For several days this single idea wholly occupied my mind—that we were out of the power of the Burmese Government, and once more under the protection of the English. Our feelings continually dictated expressions like this: What shall we render to the Lord for all His benefits toward us?

“The treaty of peace was soon concluded, signed by both parties, and a termination of hostilities publicly declared. We left Yandabo after a fortnight’s residence, and safely reached the mission-house in Rangoon after an absence of two years and three months.

“A review of our trip to and adventures in Ava often excites the inquiry, Why were we permitted to go? What good has been effected? Why did I not listen to the advice of friends in Bengal, and remain there till the war was concluded? But all that we can say is, It is not in man that walketh to direct his steps. So far as my going round to Rangoon, at the time I did, was instrumental in bringing those heavy afflictions upon us, I can only state that, if I ever acted from a sense of duty in my life, it was at that time; for my conscience would not allow me any peace when I thought of sending for your brother to come to Calcutta, in prospect of the approaching war. Our society at home have lost no property in consequence of our difficulties; but two years of precious time have been lost to the mission, unless some future advantage may be gained in consequence of the severe discipline to which we ourselves have been subject. We are sometimes induced to think that the lesson we found so very hard to learn will have a beneficial effect through our lives, and that the mission may, in the end, be advanced rather than retarded.

“We should have had no hesitation about remaining in Ava if no part of the Burmese empire had been ceded to the British. But as it was, we felt it would be an unnecessary exposure, besides the missionary field being much more limited in consequence of intoleration. We now consider our future missionary prospects as bright indeed; and our only anxiety is to be once more in that situation where our time will be exclusively devoted to the instruction of the heathen.

“From the date at the commencement of this long letter you see, my dear brother, that my patience has continued for two months. I have frequently been induced to throw it aside altogether; but feeling assured that you and my other friends are expecting something of this kind, I am induced to send it, with all its imperfections. This letter, dreadful as are the scenes herein described, gives you but a faint idea of the awful reality. The anguish, the agony of mind, resulting from a thousand little circumstances impossible to be delineated on paper, can be known by those only who have been in similar situations. Pray for us, my dear brother and sister, that these heavy afflictions may not be in vain, but may be blessed to our spiritual good and the advancement of Christ’s cause among the heathen.”

Should the reader desire still further to explore the secrets of Mr. Judson’s prison-house, he is referred to the book entitled “Personal Narrative of Two Years’ Imprisonment in Burmah,” by Henry Gouger. Mr. G. views the subject, not from the stand-point of a missionary, nor of a minister, nor of an American, but from that of an enterprising English merchant, so that we are indebted to him for a strong cross-light shed upon Mr. Judson’s experiences. The reader’s attention is also directed to a sketch called “The Kathayan Slave,” from the pen of Mrs. E. C. Judson.[[32]] “I wrote,” says Mrs. J., “under my husband’s eye, and he read and approved it, so that it is perfectly reliable.”