Broke's victory was a grateful salve to England's pride, so sorely wounded by the naval events of 1812, and her historians have never tired of dwelling upon it. One of the latest of them devotes more than eight pages to it alone, while he disposes of all the other sea-fights of this war in less than three.
The American brig Argus, of twenty guns, commanded by Captain William Henry Allen, after taking Hon. William H. Crawford to France as the new United States Minister at the French court, made a cruise in the English and Irish channels, where she captured twenty merchantmen. But in the evening of August 13th she had the misfortune to capture a vessel loaded with wine. The crew spent most of the night in transferring the cargo, and helped themselves liberally to the contents of some of the casks. Just before daylight, when all of them were tired out and many were intoxicated, they completed their misfortune by setting fire to the prize.
By the light of the burning vessel, the British brig Pelican, of twenty-one guns, sighted the Argus and bore down upon her. The Pelican got the weather-gage, and came within close range. The Argus opened with a broadside, and for three quarters of an hour the firing was kept up on both sides with great spirit. At the end of that time the American had lost her steering apparatus and most of her running rigging, while the enemy was lying under her stern, firing at leisure. Captain Allen was mortally wounded before the fighting had been going on five minutes, and his first lieutenant was disabled a few minutes later. There was now nothing for the Argus but to surrender. She had lost six men killed and seventeen wounded; the Pelican, three killed and five wounded.
Early in September the American brig Enterprise, of fourteen guns, commanded by Lieutenant William Burrows, was cruising along the coast of Maine in search of Canadian privateers, when, on the 5th, near Penguin Point, within sight of Portland, the British brig Boxer, of fourteen guns, Captain Samuel Blythe, was encountered. Both vessels prepared for action, and a few minutes past three o'clock they had approached within half pistol-shot, when both opened fire. The wind was light, the sea nearly smooth, and the broadsides of the Enterprise were very effective. Burrows had mounted a long gun in his poop-cabin, running it out of a window, and after the first broadside he drew ahead, sheered across the enemy's bow, and raked him with this gun. This was repeated, with other skilful manoeuvres, and in forty minutes the Boxer, being hailed, said she was ready to surrender, but could not haul down her colors, because they were nailed to the mast.
One of her officers is said to have sprung upon a gun, shaken his fists at the Americans, in a fearful state of excitement, and shouted "No! no! no!" adding a few opprobrious epithets, when a superior officer ordered him down. This exhibition, together with the ridiculous fact that a ship with her colors nailed was trying to surrender, brought a hearty laugh from the American crew, notwithstanding the shattered spars and bloody decks.
The Enterprise immediately ceased firing, and took possession of the prize. The American vessel had suffered very little injury, though her hull was peppered with grapeshot, a ball had passed through her foremast and one through her mainmast, and her upper rigging was considerably cut. She had lost one man killed and thirteen wounded, three of them mortally. The Boxer had been hulled repeatedly, three balls had passed through her foremast, some of her guns were dismounted, her top-gallant. forecastle was cut away, and her rigging badly injured. The number of her men that were killed has never been ascertained; fourteen were wounded. The commanders of the two vessels both fell, almost at the same moment: Blythe cut in two by an eighteen-pound ball, Burrows mortally wounded by a canister-shot. They were buried side by side in Portland, with the honors of war.
The poet Longfellow, who at that time was in his seventh year and lived in Portland, alludes to this battle in his poem entitled "My Lost Youth."
"'I remember the sea-fight far away,
How it thundered o'er the tide!
And the dead captains, as they lay