Ann Judson, part 11: Saved by Shifting Cargo

Three months after Adoniram left Rangoon, just as Ann began to look for his return, she got news that he had never made it to Chittagong. She wasn’t one to despair easily, but we can imagine this news hit hard. We might expect that her first thought was that his ship had sunk and that he had been dead for months. She had lived through years of loss and disappointment, and would not have been surprised if dark clouds of God’s providence had come again.

As if this were not enough, a few days later George Hough received a message to appear at the courthouse at once. He did so, and was interrogated for hours. This threatening behavior continued for several days, and the missionaries knew that they needed help.

The regional atmosphere had been hospitable to the mission, but local officials were taking advantage of recent events. Not only was Judson gone, but the viceroy, who tolerated the Judsons, could not be reached. His own family was away at the time, and those who were holding George knew that it was not culturally proper for Ann to call on him if he was at home without them. In spite of this impropriety, the situation with George became so dire that George and Ann developed a petition to give to the viceroy. Ann then followed in the steps of Esther and brought it to the viceroy. Thankfully, her petition was received in the way that Esther's had been, and George was released.

As soon as this crisis was over, cholera came. This horrific intestinal disease was feared and was often deadly, even in western countries. In Burma, it was attributed to evil spirits, and the missionaries recorded how the Burmese fired cannon and hit their houses with clubs to chase away the spirits. In all, it was a noisy, unnerving time—in the midst of an epidemic that by itself was frightening.

Cholera increased pressure on the mission, but a growing threat of war between England and Burma nearly shut it down. One by one, English ships began to leave the area, and Hough felt that they should also leave before all hope of escape was gone. Adoniram had not been heard from in six months, and Ann was unsure what to do. Everything in her made her want to stay. Unlike the Houghs, they had so many years of investment here. Little Roger was buried nearby.

She kept her resolve until there was only one ship left in the harbor. She realized that even if Adoniram were alive, if the harbor was closed to English ships, he would not be able to return. She packed with a heavy heart. If there were any probability of his return, she would have stayed.

On July 5, 1818, Ann and the Houghs sailed down to the coast. As Rangoon disappeared behind her, she wondered if she was doing the right thing. Just before the ship reached the sea, the captain announced that it had been loaded improperly and that they would need a few days to adjust the cargo. For Ann, that was enough. She was going back to Rangoon, even if she went alone. And she did.

After the delay, the Houghs continued on to India, taking the printing press with them; but Ann settled in at the mission house. She wrote a few weeks later, “I know I am surrounded by dangers on every hand, and expect to see much anxiety and distress; but at present I am tranquil, and intend to make an effort to pursue my studies as formerly, and leave the event with God.”

At this point in July, Adoniram had been missing for eight months. Ann had no idea where he was, and every reason to think that he was dead. But six days after she wrote of “dangers on every hand,” Adoniram stepped on board a ship in Madras to begin the thousand-mile voyage home. It isn't clear how or when she got the news of his safe return, but it is not hard to imagine her tears of joy. Thanks to her courage and faithfulness, the doors of the little mission were still open to welcome Adoniram home.