The English directors gave Mr. Judson a most courteous and affectionate greeting, but a joint conduct of the missions did not seem practicable to them. They were willing to receive and support Mr. Judson and his associates as their own missionaries, but did not feel disposed to admit the American Board to a participation with them in the direction of the work. Such co-operation might occasion complications, and they wisely thought that American Christians were able to take care of their own missionaries.
J. Morris Pinct. Alex. Cameron Sculpt.
REVD. ADONIRAM JUDSON JUNR. A.M.
Missionary to the East.
Taken in the 23d Æ t AD1811.
Mr. Judson embarked for England January 11, 1811, on the English ship Packet. She was captured on the way by a French privateer, and so he was subjected to imprisonment and compulsory detention in France. On the 6th of May he arrived in London, and on the 18th of June he embarked at Gravesend, in the ship Augustus, bound for New York, where he arrived on the 17th of August. Some interesting reminiscences of this voyage to England have been preserved by the pen of Mrs. E. C. Judson:
“There were on the ship Packet two Spanish merchants; and these, I believe, were the only passengers beside Mr. Judson. When they were captured by L’Invincible Napoleon, these two gentlemen, being able to speak French, and most likely to furnish a bribe, were treated very civilly. Mr. Judson, however, was very young, with nothing distinctive in his outward appearance, and was, moreover, speechless, friendless, and comparatively moneyless. He was, without question or remonstrance, immediately placed in the hold, with the common sailors. This was the first hardship he had ever known, and it affected him accordingly. He shrank from the associations of the place, and the confined air seemed unendurable. Soon the weather roughened, and he, together with several of his more hardy companions, became excessively seasick. The doctor visited him every day, but he could not communicate with him, and the visit was nearly useless. Sick, sorrowful, and discouraged, his thoughts went back to his dear old Plymouth home, then to Bradford, and finally the Boston church—‘the biggest church in Boston’; and he became alarmed at the strange feeling that crept over him. It was the first moment of misgiving he had known. As soon as he became aware of the feeling, he commenced praying against it, as a temptation of the adversary. It seemed to him that God had permitted this capture, and all his trouble, as a trial of his faith; and he resolved, in the strength of God, to bear it, as he might be called upon to bear similar trials hereafter. As soon as he had come to this resolution, he fumbled about in the gray twilight of his prison, till he succeeded in finding his Hebrew Bible. The light was very faint, but still he managed to see for a few moments at a time, and amused himself with translating mentally from the Hebrew to the Latin—a work which employed his thoughts, and saved his eyes. One day the doctor, observing the Bible on the pillow, took it up, stepped toward the gangway, and examined it; then returned, and addressed his patient in Latin. Through the medium of this language Mr. Judson managed to explain who he was; and he was consequently admitted to a berth in the upper cabin, and a seat with his fellow-passengers, the Spaniards, at the captain’s table.
“His second day on deck was a somewhat exciting one. A sail was reported from the masthead; and while the stranger was yet a mere speck to the naked eye, many glasses were levelled curiously at her, and a general feeling of anxiety seemed to prevail among the officers. Of course, Mr. Judson was all excitement; for although he was now in comfortable circumstances, he dreaded the effect of this detention on his mission to England. Finally the stranger loomed up against the sky, a beautiful brig under a full press of canvas. As they watched her, some anxiously and some admiringly, suddenly her fine proportions became blended in a dark mass; and it was evident to the most inexperienced landsman that she had changed her course. The two Spaniards exchanged significant glances. Mr. Judson felt very much like shouting for joy, but he suppressed the inclination; and the next moment the order came for the decks to be cleared, and he, with his companions, was sent below. The Spaniards informed him that they were pursued by a vessel much larger than their own; that the privateer had little to hope in an engagement, but she was the swifter sailer of the two, and the approaching darkness was in her favor. Mr. Judson passed a sleepless night, listening each moment for unusual sounds; but the next morning, when he carefully swept the horizon with the captain’s glass, not a mote was visible.
“The privateer touched at Le Passage, in Spain, and there permitted the two Spaniards to go on shore. From thence the prisoners were conveyed to Bayonne, in France; and Mr. Judson again, to his surprise and indignation, found himself marched through the streets in company with the crew of the Packet. He had as yet acquired only a few words of French, and of these he made as much use as possible, to the infinite amusement of the passers-by. Finally it occurred to him that he was much more likely to meet some person, either a native or a foreigner, who understood English, than to make his broken French intelligible. Accordingly he commenced declaiming in the most violent manner possible against oppression in general, and this one act in particular. The guards threatened him by gestures, but did not proceed to violence; and of the passers-by, some regarded him a moment carelessly, others show little interest or curiosity, while many laughed outright at his seemingly senseless clamors. Finally a stranger accosted him in English, advising him to lower his voice. ‘With the greatest pleasure possible,’ he answered, ‘if I have at last succeeded in making myself heard. I was only clamoring for a listener.’ ‘You might have got one you would have been glad to dismiss, if you had continued much longer,’ was the reply. In a few hurried words Judson explained his situation, and, in words as few, learned that the gentleman was an American from Philadelphia, and received his promise of assistance. ‘But you had better go on your way quietly now,’ added his new friend. ‘O, I will be a perfect lamb, since I have gained my object.’
“The prison was a gloomy-looking, massive structure, and the apartment into which they were conveyed was underground, dark and dismal. In the centre was a sort of column, on which burned a solitary lamp, though without it was still broad day. Around the walls a quantity of straw had been spread, on which his companions soon made themselves at home; but Mr. Judson could not divest himself of the idea that the straw was probably not fresh, and busied his imagination with images of those who had last occupied it. The weather had seemed almost oppressively hot above-ground; but now he shivered with the chilling dampness of the place, while the confined air and mouldy smell rendered him sick and giddy. He paced up and down the cell, he could not tell how long, but it seemed many hours, wondering if his new friend would really come; and again, if he did not, whether he could keep upon his feet all night; and in case of failure, which part of the straw he should select as the least loathsome. And then his thoughts would wander off again to Plymouth, and to Bradford, and to the ‘biggest church in Boston,’ but not with the feeling that he had before. On the contrary, he wondered that he ever could have been discouraged. He knew that at most his imprisonment could not last long. If he only had a chair, or the meanest stool, that was all he would ask. But he could not hope to walk or stand long.
“While leaning against the column for a moment’s rest, the door of the cell opened, and he instantly recognized the American he had seen in the street. He suppressed a cry of joy, and seeing that the stranger did not look at him, though he stood close by the lamp, tried himself to affect indifference. The American making some remark in French, took up the lamp, and then adding (or perhaps translating) in English, ‘Let me see if I know any of these poor fellows,’ passed around the room, examining them carelessly. ‘No; no friend of mine,’ said he, replacing the lamp, and swinging his great military cloak around Mr. Judson, whose slight figure was almost lost in its ample folds. Comprehending the plan, Mr. Judson drew himself into as small a compass as possible, thinking that he would make the best of the affair, though having little confidence in the clumsy artifice. His protector, too, seemed to have his doubts, for, as he passed out, he slid some money into the jailer’s hand, and again, at the gate, made another disbursement, and as soon as they were outside, released his protégé, with the expressive words, ‘Now run!’ Mr. Judson quite forgot his fatigue from walking in the cell, as he fleetly followed his tall conductor through the streets to the wharf, where he was placed on board an American merchantman for the night. The next evening his friend returned, informing him that his place of refuge had been only temporarily chosen, and as the papers necessary to his release could not be procured immediately, he would be much safer in the attic of a shipbuilder, who had kindly offered this place of concealment. Accordingly he removed to the attic, from which, after a few days, he was released on parole.
“Mr. Judson passed about six weeks in Bayonne, boarding with an American lady who had spent most of her life in France. He told his landlady that he was a clergyman, and frequently held long religious conversations with her; but he did not permit his character to be known generally in the house, as he thought it would interfere with a plan he had of learning as much as possible of the real state of French society. He attended various places of amusement with his fellow-boarders, pleading his ignorance of the language and customs of the country as an excuse for acting the spectator merely; and in general giving such evasive replies as enabled him to act his part without attracting undue attention. It was not long, however, before his companions became pretty well aware that indifference formed no part of his real character. His shrewdness was at variance with his implied ignorance of the world, and his simplicity sometimes wore a solemn impressiveness, from the influence of which it was impossible to escape. The last place of amusement he visited was a masked ball; and here his strong feelings quite overcame his caution, and he burst forth in his real character. He declared to his somewhat startled companions that he did not believe the infernal regions could furnish more complete specimens of depravity than he there beheld. He spoke in English, and at first addressed himself to the two or three standing near him, who understood the language; but his earnestness of manner and warmth of expression soon drew around him a large circle, who listened curiously and with apparent respect. He spoke scornfully of the proud professions of the (so called) philosophy of the age, and pointed to the fearful exhibitions of that moment as illustrative of its effectiveness. He rapidly enumerated many of the evils which infidelity had brought upon France and upon the world, and then showed the only way of escape from those evils—the despised but truly ennobling religion of Jesus Christ. Finally he sketched the character of man as it might have been in its original purity and nobleness, and then the wreck of soul and body to be ascribed to sin, and wound up all by a personal appeal to such as had not become too debased to think and feel. He had warmed as he proceeded with his subject, noting with pain and surprise the great number of those who seemed to understand the English language, and drawing from it an inference by no means favorable to his travelled countrymen. Most of the maskers evidently regarded the exhibition as a part of the evening’s entertainment; but those who understood his remarks seemed confounded by the boldness, and perhaps unexpectedness, of the attack, and when he had finished, stood aside, and allowed him to pass from the place without a word. This incident, I have been told, was reported by some person present on the occasion, and published in a Boston newspaper.