After a few months Mr. and Mrs. Judson removed from the English Baptist mission-house into the city proper. The mission-house which they had been occupying was situated half a mile from Rangoon, near the place of public execution, where the refuse of the city streets was thrown, and not far from the place where the dead were buried. While outside the city walls, the missionaries were exposed to robbers and to wild beasts. It was thought best, therefore, to move into the city itself, especially as in this way they would be brought into closer contact with the people.
After they had been in Rangoon about a year and a half, Mrs. Judson’s health began to break down under the effects of the climate. They had no physician to consult, and her symptoms proving dangerous, she was obliged to sail to Madras to secure both medical advice and the recuperation of a sea voyage. She set sail on January 25, 1815, and after an absence of nearly three months, returned with her health much improved. This first experience of long separation was very painful. Mr. Judson writes:
“There is not an individual in the country that I can pray with, and not a single soul with whom I can have the least religious communion. I keep myself as busy as possible all day long, from sunrise till late in the evening, in reading Burman, and conversing with the natives. I have been here a year and a half, and so extremely difficult is the language—perhaps the most difficult to a foreigner of any on the face of the earth next to the Chinese—that I find myself very inadequate to communicate divine truth intelligibly. I have, in some instances, been so happy as to secure the attention, and in some degree to interest the feelings, of those who heard me; but I am not acquainted with a single instance in which any permanent impression has been produced. No Burman has, I believe, ever felt the grace of God; and what can a solitary, feeble individual or two expect to be the means of effecting in such a land as this, amid the triumphs of Satan, the darkness of death? The Lord is all-powerful, wise, and good; and this consideration alone always affords me unfailing consolation and support.”
In a letter to her parents, sisters, and brother, Mrs. Judson gave the following description of the voyage to Madras and her return to Rangoon:
“I embarked for Madras to procure medical assistance, and hoping a change of air would conduce to the restoration of my health. I was obliged to leave Mr. Judson here alone, without a single associate to animate him in his arduous work. We did not think it his duty for him to leave the mission if I could possibly go alone. But though I was separated from him, and felt for the first time in my life that I was entirely alone in this wide world, yet I could not but trace the kind dealings of God in inclining every one with whom I had any concern to favor and assist me in my way. The viceroy gave me an order to take a woman with me, free from expense, a thing which is generally attended with great difficulty, owing to the Burman law which forbids any female to leave the country. We went to him ourselves with a small present, which is customary when a favor is asked. On his seeing it, he inquired if we had any business; and on Mr. Judson’s presenting the petition, he immediately commanded his writer to give us an official order, without causing us any expense whatever. The captain with whom I went refused any pay for my passage, though he provided every necessary for one in ill health. I stayed at Madras six weeks, and resided at Mr. Loveless’ house, where I received every attention. When about to leave Madras, I sent the physician under whose care I had been, seventy rupees, which he immediately returned, saying he was happy if he had been serviceable to me. After an absence of three months I safely arrived at Rangoon, where I found Mr. Judson well, and laboring hard, though entirely alone. My health continued to mend, and on the 11th of September I was made the happy mother of a little son. I had no physician or assistant whatever excepting Mr. Judson. Since the birth of our little son my health has been much better than for two years before. I feel now almost in a new state of existence. Our hands are full, and though our prospects in regard to the immediate conversion of the Burmans are dark, yet our trust in God is strong, and our hopes animating.”
The little boy to whom Mrs. Judson alludes in this letter was born September 11, 1815, and named Roger Williams, but on May 4, 1816, he closed his brief life on earth, at the age of seven months and twenty-three days.
In a letter dated Rangoon, May 7, 1816, Mr. Judson conveys the sad intelligence to the Rev. Mr. Lawson, missionary at Serampore:
“Our little comfort, our dear little Roger, has become insensible to our parental attentions and fond caresses; the light of his mild blue eyes is quenched, his sweet face has become cold to our lips, and his little mind, which, to a parent’s discernment at least, discovered peculiar sensibility and peculiar sweetness of disposition, has deserted its infantile tenement and fled—oh, where? Into what strange scenes is it introduced? Who supports and guides its trembling steps across the dark valley? There a parent’s aid could not be extended. But we hope it had a more affectionate and abler guide. We hope that Jesus has repaired the ruins of the fall in regard to all little children. And who but thinks their departed children sweet and lovely beyond compare? Perhaps I am a novice in affliction. Had I lost a wife, I might not thus lament for a little child eight months old. Yet nothing but such a scene of bereavement and anguish as we have passed through can teach us to pity others in like circumstances. Nothing but experience can teach us what feelings agonize the soul of a parent when he puts his face to that of his dear, his only child, to ascertain whether there may not be one breath more; and when satisfied of the truth, when hope expires with life, he tries to raise the bursting aspiration: O Lord, receive the spirit!
“Our little Roger died last Saturday morning. We looked at him through the day, and on the approach of night we laid him in the grave. This is the fourth day, and we just begin to think, What can we do for the heathen? But yet it seems hard to forget little Roger so soon, to force off our thoughts from the attractive, painful subject, and to return to our usual employments. O may we not suffer in vain! May this bereavement be sanctified to our souls! and for this I hope we have your prayers.
“How is Mrs. Lawson, and your little ones? We had only one. Might not this have been spared? It was almost all our comfort and our amusement in this dreary place. But, ‘the Lord gave,’ etc.”