A small vessel, the prize of an English cruiser, bound to Sierra Leone, and having on board about thirty liberated Africans, put into the roads for water, and had the misfortune to part her cable and run ashore below George's town, where she was in a few hours beaten to pieces by the heavy surf. She was immediately claimed by the natives on behalf of their king, whose alleged rights they came forward to maintain by the force of arms.—In attempting to board, however, they were opposed and beaten back by the prize-master and his crew. The American settlers, perceiving the extreme danger of their English visitors, hastened to their relief, bringing with them a brass field-piece, which they turned against the assailants, who, terrified by so unaccustomed a mode of warfare, hastily retreated towards their forest-bound hamlet, leaving the English officer, his crew, and the Africans at liberty. The damage on both sides was, however, considerable; on that of the natives it consisted of many wounded men and two killed; on that of the strangers, in the total loss of their vessel, with most part of their stores and property; but on that of the settlers the injury sustained was fatally severe, it consisted of the destruction by fire of their most valuable and requisite stores, amounting in actual worth to three thousand dollars: a loss incalculably increased by their necessities.
The accident arose from some mismanagement of the fusee, used for the cannon, a spark from which communicating with the thatch of the public storehouse so rapidly spread into a flame, that it was only by the most daring courage that the powder, some casks of provisions, and a few other stores were rescued from the devastating element.
The natives meanwhile, exasperated at the interference of the settlers, and maddened by the sight of their wounded and dead brethren, were only restrained from taking summary vengeance by the dread of the artillery. Even this fear could not prevent their occasionally venturing near enough to fire upon the settlers and their new allies,—these furtive and for the most part futile indications of malignity, were, however, always easily repelled by a single shot from a four or six-pounder, which usually put the assailants for the time being to an immediate flight. But it was not to this mockery of warfare with King George's warriors that the annoyance of the settlers was limited. Many and various were the vexations to which the hostility of the Deys subjected the unhappy adventurers; in the mere act of obtaining water (for which purpose they had to pass through the enemy's town) their obstacles were endless. While the demolition of their unfinished houses, secretly accomplished by their persecutors, and similar injuries constantly practised, ultimately compelled them to discontinue their principal work. At length the vigilant hatred of their savage enemies, resolved itself into a mode of attack which robbed the settlers of all present means of resistance.—Watching their opportunity when the boats went up the river Montserado, in search of water, they sheltered themselves beneath the large trees and rocks which overhung the narrowest parts of the river, from whence they fired upon the boats at pleasure, alike without the possibility of receiving any injury, or of their victims avoiding the danger by a hasty retreat. In this adventure, one colonist and an English seaman lost their lives, and two other persons were slightly wounded.
The recurrence of such events did not fail to keep up a spirit of animosity between the Dey tribe and the colonists, whose principal crime in the eyes of the natives, was their aversion to the slave trade; an aversion which struck at the root of all the interest, fears, and prejudices of the Deys. Old King Peter, the venerable patriarch of the nation, and with whom the first treaty for the purchase of the ground had been negotiated, was capitally arraigned and brought to trial on a charge of betraying the interests of his subjects, by selling their country. The accusation was substantiated, and it became doubtful whether the punishment of high treason, would not be executed upon a monarch, whom they had been accustomed to venerate and to obey for more than thirty years.
Under these circumstances the settlers became seriously alarmed respecting the nature of the intercourse which might become necessary to the policy of Bacaia, the king of the larger island, and from whom they had received many proofs of friendship, in secret supplies of fuel and water. But as his plantations, with numerous detached bodies of his subjects, were entirety exposed to the power of the Deys, it seemed absolutely requisite that his friendship with that tribe should not be affected by any further acts of kindness to a people so inimical to their views. Hence the suspicions of the colonists became naturally excited against Bacaia. It appeared that the considerations which had been so painfully entertained on the part of the colonists, operated no less powerfully upon the mind of the chief; for he immediately summoned to his aid one of the most powerful and famous chiefs of the Condoes, by whose protection he had for many years been sustained in his dangerous contiguity to such quarrelsome neighbours.
King Boatswain, whose political influence over the maritime tribes of the country was nearly absolute, and whose name had long been the terror of his countrymen, replied to the request of his protegée with that prompt alacrity which characterized all his actions, almost immediately arriving in person, accompanied with an armed force sufficient to carry into effect any measure that might seem most desirable to their chief. He, with that apparent modesty in which extreme pride delights to dress itself, and which is but another way of exhibiting innate confidence, assured his allies,—that he came not to pronounce sentence between the coast natives and the strangers, but to do justice to all. He next convoked the head chiefs of the neighbourhood to a meeting with the American Agents, who were but just returned to the settlement, having been absent during the last mentioned events, and principal settlers, who on their part were required to set forth their grievances and the nature of their claims. These complained of the dishonesty of the Deys, in withholding the possession of lands which they had sold, and of the hostile acts committed against the colonists by King George's people. These charges were followed by a clamorous discussion on the part of the accused; which the haughty judge having heard, as long as his patience served, at length closed, by abruptly rising, with the remark, that, "as the Deys had sold their country, and accepted a part payment for it, they must abide the consequences of their indiscretion; and that their refusal of the balance due to them could not annul nor affect the sale. Let the Americans," said he, "have their lands immediately. Whoever is unsatisfied with my decision, let him say so."—Then turning to the Agents, "I promise you," said he, "protection. If these people give you further disturbance, send for me. And I swear, that if they oblige me to come again to quiet them, I will do it effectually, by taking their heads from their shoulders, as I did that of old King George on my last visit to settle their disputes."
The necessity of an acquiescence in this decree, being by common consent allowed, no farther opposition was offered by the natives, and the usual interchange of presents having been effected, the colonists resumed their labours with increased zeal and confidence.
On the 26th of April, the colonists took formal possession of the Cape, but unfortunately so much time had been lost in contesting with the natives, that, notwithstanding all their industry, the rainy and tornado season set in while the dwelling-houses were still roofless. In the island sickness began to make terrible ravages; both the Agents were among the sufferers, and it was soon evident, that unless a removal from their insalubrious situation should be speedily effected, the consequences would be finally fatal. Nor was this their only trial, for in the midst of this appalling visitation, the gaunt spectre famine reared its ghastly head, and threatened them with new terrors. In circumstances so dispiriting, where despair seemed about to crash the weakened energies of the labourers, and where nothing but activity could preserve them from the loss of life; it was perhaps more honourable to Dr. Ayres' benevolence than to his policy, that he proposed to convey the settlers back to Sierra Leone. It is, however, a fact worthy of record, as well as of admiration, that only a small part of the emigrants embraced this proposal. The rest, consisting of twenty-six persons capable of bearing arms, with a few women and children, together with Mr. Wiltberger, the Society's assistant agent, remained to combat the difficulties of their situation; thus nobly affording a pledge to find for themselves and their brethren a present home, and for the oppressed African, or the captured slave, a safe asylum on this once hostile coast.
The settled rains of the season now set in with unusual violence, and the struggles and hardships endured by this little band cannot be easily imagined. However, so great was their persevering industry, that before the first of May several dwelling-houses had been rendered habitable, with a small frame-house for the Agent; and a storehouse sufficient for their purposes had been constructed of servicable materials.
In the beginning of July the colonists completed their removal from the island, each took possession of the humble dwelling that was henceforth to constitute his home. The Agents had meanwhile both sailed for the United States, leaving the settlement under the management of one of the emigrants (Elijah Johnson of New York), who acquitted himself so much to the satisfaction of the settlers that he now enjoys one of the most respectable situations in the municipal government, conferred upon him by the people.