In November came Dr. Eli Ayres as agent of the Society, and in December Captain Robert F. Stockton of the Alligator with instructions to coöperate. These two men explored the coast and on December 11 arrived at Mesurado Bay. Through the jungle they made their way to a village and engaged in a palaver with King Peter and five of his associates. The negotiations were conducted in the presence of an excited crowd and with imminent danger; but Stockton had great tact and at length, for the equivalent of $300, he and Ayres purchased the mouth of the Mesurado River, Cape Montserado, and the land for some distance in the interior. There was also an understanding (for half a dozen gallons of rum and some trade-cloth and tobacco) with King George, who "resided on the Cape and claimed a sort of jurisdiction over the northern district of the peninsula of Montserado, by virtue of which the settlers were permitted to pass across the river and commence the laborious task of clearing away the heavy forest which covered the site of their intended town."[137] Then the agent returned to effect the removal of the colonists from Fourah Bay, leaving a very small company as a sort of guard on Perseverance (or Providence) Island at the mouth of the river. Some of the colonists refused to leave, remained, and thus became British subjects. For those who had remained on the island there was trouble at once. A small vessel, the prize of an English cruiser, bound to Sierra Leone with thirty liberated Africans, put into the roads for water, and had the misfortune to part her cable and come ashore. "The natives claim to a prescriptive right, which interest never fails to enforce to its fullest extent, to seize and appropriate the wrecks and cargoes of vessels stranded, under whatever circumstances, on their coast."[138] The vessel in question drifted to the mainland one mile from the cape, a small distance below George's town, and the natives proceeded to act in accordance with tradition. They were fired on by the prize master and forced to desist, and the captain appealed to the few colonists on the island for assistance. They brought into play a brass field piece, and two of the natives were killed and several more wounded. The English officer, his crew, and the captured Africans escaped, though the small vessel was lost; but the next day the Deys (the natives), feeling outraged, made another attack, in the course of which some of them and one of the colonists were killed. In the course of the operations moreover, through the carelessness of some of the settlers themselves, fire was communicated to the storehouse and $3000 worth of property destroyed, though the powder and some of the provisions were saved. Thus at the very beginning, by accident though it happened, the shadow of England fell across the young colony, involving it in difficulties with the natives. When then Ayres returned with the main crowd of settlers on January 7, 1822—which arrival was the first real landing of settlers on what is now Liberian soil—he found that the Deys wished to annul the agreement previously made and to give back the articles paid. He himself was seized in the course of a palaver, and he was able to arrive at no better understanding than that the colonists might remain only until they could make a new purchase elsewhere. Now appeared on the scene Boatswain, a prominent chief from the interior who sometimes exercised jurisdiction over the coast tribes and who, hearing that there was trouble in the bay, had come hither, bringing with him a sufficient following to enforce his decrees. Through this man shone something of the high moral principle so often to be observed in responsible African chiefs, and to him Ayres appealed. Hearing the story he decided in favor of the colonists, saying to Peter, "Having sold your country and accepted payment, you must take the consequences. Let the Americans have their land immediately." To the agent he said, "I promise you protection. If these people give you further disturbance, send for me; and I swear, if they oblige me to come again to quiet them, I will do it to purpose, by taking their heads from their shoulders, as I did old king George's on my last visit to the coast to settle disputes." Thus on the word of a native chief was the foundation of Liberia assured.
By the end of April all of the colonists who were willing to move had been brought from Sierra Leone to their new home. It was now decided to remove from the low and unhealthy island to the higher land of Cape Montserado only a few hundred feet away; on April 28 there was a ceremony of possession and the American flag was raised. The advantages of the new position were obvious, to the natives as well as the colonists, and the removal was attended with great excitement. By July the island was completely abandoned. Meanwhile, however, things had not been going well. The Deys had been rendered very hostile, and from them there was constant danger of attack. The rainy season moreover had set in, shelter was inadequate, supplies were low, and the fever continually claimed its victims. Ayres at length became discouraged. He proposed that the enterprise be abandoned and that the settlers return to Sierra Leone, and on June 4 he did actually leave with a few of them. It was at this juncture that Elijah Johnson, one of the most heroic of the colonists, stepped forth to fame.
The early life of the man is a blank. In 1789 he was taken to New Jersey. He received some instruction and studied for the Methodist ministry, took part in the War of 1812, and eagerly embraced the opportunity to be among the first to come to the new colony. To the suggestion that the enterprise be abandoned he replied, "Two years long have I sought a home; here I have found it; here I remain." To him the great heart of the colonists responded. Among the natives he was known and respected as a valiant fighter. He lived until March 23, 1849.
Closely associated with Johnson, his colleague in many an effort and the pioneer in mission work, was the Baptist minister, Lott Cary, from Richmond, Va., who also had become one of the first permanent settlers.[139] He was a man of most unusual versatility and force of character. He died November 8, 1828, as the result of a powder explosion that occurred while he was acting in defense of the colony against the Deys.
July (1822) was a hard month for the settlers. Not only were their supplies almost exhausted, but they were on a rocky cape and the natives would not permit any food to be brought to them. On August 8, however, arrived Jehudi Ashmun, a young man from Vermont who had worked as a teacher and as the editor of a religious publication for some years before coming on this mission. He brought with him a company of liberated Africans and emigrants to the number of fifty-five, and as he did not intend to remain permanently he had yielded to the entreaty of his wife and permitted her to accompany him on the voyage. He held no formal commission from the American Colonization Society, but seeing the situation he felt that it was his duty to do what he could to relieve the distress; and he faced difficulties from the very first. On the day after his arrival his own brig, the Strong, was in danger of being lost; the vessel parted its cable, and on the following morning broke it again and drifted until it was landlocked between Cape Montserado and Cape Mount. A small anchor was found, however, and the brig was again moored, but five miles from the settlement. The rainy season was now on in full force; there was no proper place for the storing of provisions; and even with the newcomers it soon developed that there were in the colony only thirty-five men capable of bearing arms, so great had been the number of deaths from the fever. Sometimes almost all of these were sick; on September 10 only two were in condition for any kind of service. Ashmun tried to make terms with the native chiefs, but their malignity was only partially concealed. His wife languished before his eyes and died September 15, just five weeks after her arrival. He himself was incapacitated for several months, nor at the height of his illness was he made better by the ministrations of a French charlatan. He never really recovered from the great inroads made upon his strength at this time.
As a protection from sudden attack a clearing around the settlement was made. Defenses had to be erected without tools, and so great was the anxiety that throughout the months of September and October a nightly watch of twenty men was kept. On Sunday, November 10, the report was circulated that the Deys were crossing the Mesurado River, and at night it became known that seven or eight hundred were on the peninsula only half a mile to the west. The attack came at early dawn on the 11th and the colonists might have been annihilated if they had not brought a field-piece into play. When this was turned against the natives advancing in compact array, it literally tore through masses of living flesh until scores of men were killed. Even so the Deys might have won the engagement if they had not stopped too soon to gather plunder. As it was, they were forced to retreat. Of the settlers three men and one woman were killed, two men and two women injured, and several children taken captive, though these were afterwards returned. At this time the colonists suffered greatly from the lack of any supplies for the treatment of wounds. Only medicines for the fever were on hand, and in the hot climate those whose flesh had been torn by bullets suffered terribly. In this first encounter, as often in these early years, the real burden of conflict fell upon Cary and Johnson. After the battle these men found that they had on hand ammunition sufficient for only one hour's defense. All were placed on a special allowance of provisions and November 23 was observed as a day of prayer. A passing vessel furnished additional supplies and happily delayed for some days the inevitable attack. This came from two sides very early in the morning of December 2. There was a desperate battle. Three bullets passed through Ashmun's clothes, one of the gunners was killed, and repeated attacks were resisted only with the most dogged determination. An accident, or, as the colonists regarded it, a miracle, saved them from destruction. A guard, hearing a noise, discharged a large gun and several muskets. The schooner Prince Regent was passing, with Major Laing, Midshipman Gordon, and eleven specially trained men on board. The officers, hearing the sound of guns, came ashore to see what was the trouble. Major Laing offered assistance if ground was given for the erection of a British flag, and generally attempted to bring about an adjustment of difficulties on the basis of submitting these to the governor of Sierra Leone. To these propositions Elijah Johnson replied, "We want no flagstaff put up here that it will cost more to get down than it will to whip the natives." However, Gordon and the men under him were left behind for the protection of the colony until further help could arrive. Within one month he and seven of the eleven were dead. He himself had found a ready place in the hearts of the settlers, and to him and his men Liberia owes much. They came in a needy hour and gave their lives for the cause of freedom.
An American steamer passing in December, 1822, gave some temporary relief. On March 31, 1823, the Cyane, with Capt. R.T. Spence in charge, arrived from America with supplies. As many members of his crew became ill after only a few days, Spence soon deemed it advisable to leave. His chief clerk, however, Richard Seaton, heroically volunteered to help with the work, remained behind, and died after only three months. On May 24 came the Oswego with sixty-one new colonists and Dr. Ayres, who, already the Society's agent, now returned with the additional authority of Government agent and surgeon. He made a survey and attempted a new allotment of land, only to find that the colony was soon in ferment, because some of those who possessed the best holdings or who had already made the beginnings of homes, were now required to give these up. There was so much rebellion that in December Ayres again deemed it advisable to leave. The year 1823 was in fact chiefly noteworthy for the misunderstandings that arose between the colonists and Ashmun. This man had been placed in a most embarrassing situation by the arrival of Dr. Ayres.[140] He not only found himself superseded in the government, but had the additional misfortune to learn that his drafts had been dishonored and that no provision had been made to remunerate him for his past services or provide for his present needs. Finding his services undervalued, and even the confidence of the Society withheld, he was naturally indignant, though his attachment to the cause remained steadfast. Seeing the authorized agent leaving the colony, and the settlers themselves in a state of insubordination, with no formal authority behind him he yet resolved to forget his own wrongs and to do what he could to save from destruction that for which he had already suffered so much. He was young and perhaps not always as tactful as he might have been. On the other hand, the colonists had not yet learned fully to appreciate the real greatness of the man with whom they were dealing. As for the Society at home, not even so much can be said. The real reason for the withholding of confidence from Ashmun was that many of the members objected to his persistent attacks on the slave-trade.
By the regulations that governed the colony at the time, each man who received rations was required to contribute to the general welfare two days of labor a week. Early in December twelve men cast off all restraint, and on the 13th Ashmun published a notice in which he said: "There are in the colony more than a dozen healthy persons who will receive no more provisions out of the public store until they earn them." On the 19th, in accordance with this notice, the provisions of the recalcitrants were stopped. The next morning, however, the men went to the storehouse, and while provisions were being issued, each seized a portion and went to his home. Ashmun now issued a circular, reminding the colonists of all of their struggles together and generally pointing out to them how such a breach of discipline struck at the very heart of the settlement. The colonists rallied to his support and the twelve men returned to duty. The trouble, however, was not yet over. On March 19, 1824, Ashmun found it necessary to order a cut in provisions. He had previously declared to the Board that in his opinion the evil was "incurable by any of the remedies which fall within the existing provisions"; and counter remonstrances had been sent by the colonists, who charged him with oppression, neglect of duty, and the seizure of public property. He now, seeing that his latest order was especially unpopular, prepared new despatches, on March 22 reviewed the whole course of his conduct in a strong and lengthy address, and by the last of the month had left the colony.
Meanwhile the Society, having learned that things were not going well with the colony, had appointed its secretary, Rev. R.R. Gurley, to investigate conditions. Gurley met Ashmun at the Cape Verde Islands and urgently requested that he return to Monrovia.[141] This Ashmun was not unwilling to do, as he desired the fullest possible investigation into his conduct. Gurley was in Liberia from August 13 to August 22, 1824, only; but from the time of his visit conditions improved. Ashmun was fully vindicated and remained for four years more until his strength was all but spent. There was adopted what was known as the Gurley Constitution. According to this the agent in charge was to have supreme charge and preside at all public meetings. He was to be assisted, however, by eleven officers annually chosen, the most important of whom he was to appoint on nomination by the colonists. Among these were a vice-agent, two councilors, two justices of the peace, and two constables. There was to be a guard of twelve privates, two corporals, and one sergeant.
For a long time it was the custom of the American Colonization Society to send out two main shipments of settlers a year, one in the spring and one in the fall. On February 13, 1824, arrived a little more than a hundred emigrants, mainly from Petersburg, Va. These people were unusually intelligent and industrious and received a hearty welcome. Within a month practically all of them were sick with the fever. On this occasion, as on many others, Lott Cary served as physician, and so successful was he that only three of the sufferers died. Another company of unusual interest was that which arrived early in 1826. It brought along a printer, a press with the necessary supplies, and books sent by friends in Boston. Unfortunately the printer was soon disabled by the fever.