When the War of 1812 was declared the Enterprise was still in commission, but “official wisdom” had changed her so wofully that only an expert would have recognized in her the trim, fleet-winged schooner of 1801. Her tall and raking masts had been taken out and the squat rig of a brig substituted, while to make her still more top-heavy her armament had been changed from twelve sixes to fourteen short eighteens and two long nines. Her crew was increased by the addition of forty men, so she “became too slow to run without becoming strong enough to fight.” That she “managed to escape capture” was “owing chiefly to good-luck” and the fact that “the British possessed a class of vessels even worse than our own,” and these were usually the ones that the Enterprise happened to meet.
At the opening of the war the Enterprise was placed as a coast-guard between Cape Ann and the Bay of Fundy to drive off the British privateers that came hunting Yankee merchant-coasters. The reader of American history must keep in mind that to the whelming force of their regular navy which the British brought against the Yankees in this war, as well as in that of 1776, there was a force of English privateers numbering hundreds and carrying tens of thousands of armed men. In driving off privateers the Enterprise was very successful, for the reason that the British privateers were rarely armed to fight a war-ship. At first she was under Master-Commandant Johnston Blakely, but he was promoted to the command of one of the new sloops built under the act of January 2, 1813 (the Wasp), and then Lieutenant William Burrows took charge of her.
At this time she was making Portsmouth, New Hampshire, her port of call, and on September 4, 1813, she sailed for Monhegan, where a number of privateers had been seen. The next forenoon, while approaching Penguin Point, not far from Portland, Maine, a brig was seen. There were men aloft, loosing her sails, while others were seen at the capstan getting up anchor. Only a man-of-war was likely to carry such a crew as that, and no American man-of-war was in that region except the Enterprise, and so Burrows cleared for action. At this time his crew numbered one hundred and two men.
Meantime the stranger fired four guns and set four British ensigns at different points on her spars, and then she stood out to sea, plainly eager for a fight with the Enterprise.
The stranger got under way at noon. A fresh breeze was blowing from the southwest, and Lieutenant Burrows headed offshore to get a-plenty of sea-room; and then to be prepared in case the stranger proved a faster sailer and should overhaul him, while yet too near shore for a fair fight, he ordered one of the stern ports enlarged from the mere window that it was, to a port, of sufficient size to permit the use of one of his long guns.
When the crew of the Enterprise heard the orders for this work passed, a distinct Yankee growl swept along the deck. Burrows had been on board but three days and they did not know him—they thought he meant to run instead of fight—and a midshipman was requested by the men on the forecastle to go aft and say to the captain that the men wanted to fight. The middie yielded so far as to tell the executive officer, Lieutenant Edward Rutley McCall, what the men were growling about, and he, knowing the men well, promptly quieted them by explaining why the Enterprise was apparently running away.
At 3 o’clock the desired offing was obtained, and then ensigns were set on the Enterprise, the topmen ran aloft to furl the lighter sails; came down again; manned the braces, and, tacking around, headed with free sheets for the enemy that with her brave show of bunting was coming on confident of victory. For twenty minutes thereafter the two ships approached steadily, each holding her fire until within half pistol-shot, when both cut loose almost at the same instant with a broadside. It was a deadly fire on both sides, for men were struck on the Enterprise as well as on the enemy, and as it happened, those cut down on the Enterprise were working one of the quarter-deck guns. The men had cheered on both ships as they fired and on both sides they cheered as they began to reload their guns, Burrows joining in with encouraging words. As the short-handed crew just under his eye grasped the tackles to haul out the gun for the next round he ran to their aid, grasped the tackle-fall with both hands, braced his foot against the port-sill and threw his weight on the tackle with the men. And then came a canister-shot from the enemy through the port, striking the Yankee commander in the upper part of the leg by which he was braced, and, glancing along the bone of the thigh, it buried itself in his abdomen.
The Enterprise and Boxer.
From a wood-cut in the “Naval Monument.”