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.