The British now set to work establishing their intended province of New Ireland. After a raiding party captured the fort at Buck’s Harbor on September 12, the coastline was secure. On Sept. 21 a proclamation was issued establishing the province and designating Castine as a port of entry.
All towns from the Penobscot to New Brunswick were granted the same commercial rights as any other British province. Vessel owners who swore an oath of allegiance were granted license to operate freely without English interference.
On November 7, Harpswell held a second special town meeting, and appointed the Selectmen as the committee responsible for the arms and equipment which were being sent from the state arsenal in Boston. They were authorized to issue out the arms, one for each person, and required each recipient to provide security that they would be returned when called for. Powder kegs, possibly from this shipment, are on display in the Harpswell Museum on Rt. 123 in Harpswell Center.
East of the Penobscot, daily life as citizens of the British Empire began to settle in. The officers of the garrison at Castine formed a theater, the actors coming from their own number. Feminine roles might be played by a young lieutenant of the infantry for lack of female players.
It was reported that, almost daily, shipments of desirable English goods entered through the port. The imports were of sufficient quantity that the US government established a customs office in Hampden, which collected approximately $150,000 in duties.
When winter brought the freezing of the river, intrepid Mainers could be found crossing the ice in sleighs loaded with contraband to avoid taxes.
One has to wonder to what extent the pillars of the community were profiting from this illegal trade. One night a customs agent apprehended a smuggler with a sleigh full of illegal goods. With Yankee gall, the miscreant charged the agent with highway robbery. Examined by the same magistrates who had appointed him, the unfortunate official was shipped off to prison in Augusta!
The Treaty of Ghent, which ended the War of 1812, also terminated the Province of New Ireland. On April 25, 1815, the British quietly evacuated all territory held in Maine and the US government retained control. Historian William Williamson, in 1832, recounted that the local inhabitants rejoiced, but given the commerce enjoyed during that time, how deep was that sentiment? One is left to wonder what might have been the consequences, what the State of Maine might be like today, had the negotiations left the territory east of the Penobscot as British territory.
For further reading, the author recommends The History of the State of Maine by William Williamson. Published in 1832, it is available online. Penobscot: Downeast Paradise by Gorham Munson (1958) also gives many interesting accounts of the area and its history and is a good read.
Showing posts with label War of 1812. Show all posts
Showing posts with label War of 1812. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Friday, August 27, 2010
The Enemy At the Gates: The British Invasion of Maine Part 3
The Battle of Hampden
Recognizing the need to eliminate the potential threat of a refitted Adams, a part of the fleet, led by Dragon and accompanied by a transport with 500 light infantry and artillery, was dispatched up the river to destroy it and capture merchant vessels anchored at Hampden, one of which had recently arrived from Rochelle, France with a rich cargo of silk, wine and brandy.
Aware of the British advance, Morris ordered the guns removed from Adams and constructed shore batteries to cover the approach up the river. As the militia trickled in during the day on September 2, he supplied any, who were unarmed, with muskets and ammunition from the ship’s stores.
Lewis and Little, meanwhile, were leading their men up the road along the west bank of the river. The latter, observing a detachment of Royal Riflemen landing to be in position to intercept them, turned his men into the woods and never reached the battle.
In the afternoon, Morris went into town to attend a council of war with General Blake, the commander of the militia and several prominent townspeople at the Hampden Academy Building. Blake had established a rough line with the right anchored on a church, extending in front of the Academy to the river. To the south was the burial ground, Sowadabscook Stream and Pitcher’s Brook. Pickets were placed overlooking Bald Hill Cove approximately three miles down the river.
Morris was dismayed to find total confusion. Blake had developed no clear plan for the 500 men, who were arriving, no positions had been prepared, and the townspeople were advocating no resistance relying instead on British magnanimity.
At sunset, Barrie’s troops aboard the transport landed on the shores of Bald Hill Cove. These were light infantry riflemen, with weapons more accurate and of longer range than the standard smoothbore musket. Elite troops, they had served with Wellington.
Blake’s pickets withdrew.
Throughout the long, rainy night the throng of citizen soldiers stood to arms. To untrained farmers and tradesmen, most of whom had never heard a shot fired in anger, the night was long indeed. Rumors would have flown up and down the line. The stress would have rendered many inconveniently ill.
The morning of September 3 came with a thick fog and movement of the British troops.
Through faulty intelligence, they believed they were facing 1400 militia, thus moved cautiously up the road towards Hampden with a local guide pressed into service. A line of skirmishers was thrown across the front followed by a company of the 60th Regiment, a green-coated regiment formed in great part from German and Dutch prisoners of war unhappy at being forced to support Napoleon. The flanks were guarded by detachments of marines from the ships. Behind it in support followed a second company of the 29th Regiment trailed by a battery of light artillery.
Around 8 AM, marching in quickstep, they broke out of the fog almost upon the startled Mainers, who fired a ragged volley at them. Immediately the center of the militia line collapsed, and without orders began a swift retreat. Morris, his men firing downriver at the British ships and landing barges, saw the collapse and ordered his guns to be spiked and the Adams set ablaze.
Within an hour, the British were in possession of Hampden. The battle, which turned out to be the last in the northern theater of the war, was nearly bloodless. One notable casualty was the unfortunate pressed into service by the British as a guide.
The citizens, who had counted on British magnanimity were sorely disappointed as their cattle were killed and houses sacked. Pleading to CPT Barrie for humanity, he responded, “I have none for you. I will spare your lives, though I mean to burn your houses.” Many were taken to the ships to be detained and a bond of $12,000 was levied on the town.
Two thirds of Barrie’s troops pressed upriver to Bangor. There was no stomach for fighting in Bangor where the citizens determined to rely on Barrie’s good will, and under a flag of truce, surrendered the town unconditionally. Some of them must have felt that resistance might have been the better course as public buildings were commandeered, foodstuffs confiscated and the troops set free to loot. After receiving a pledge of a $30,000 bond, Barrie called off his men.
They then bedded down for what must have been an uneasy night in Bangor. When the next day dawned, the occupiers busied themselves with burning a few more vessels anchored in or on the stocks in the river, and withdrew to Hampden.
Barrie’s men then began boarding the transports to return to Castine, stopping along the way in Frankfort to relieve the townspeople there of a large number of oxen, sheep and geese. On September 7 the victorious force dropped anchor in Castine. The Penobscot River campaign had ended.
To be continued
Recognizing the need to eliminate the potential threat of a refitted Adams, a part of the fleet, led by Dragon and accompanied by a transport with 500 light infantry and artillery, was dispatched up the river to destroy it and capture merchant vessels anchored at Hampden, one of which had recently arrived from Rochelle, France with a rich cargo of silk, wine and brandy.
Aware of the British advance, Morris ordered the guns removed from Adams and constructed shore batteries to cover the approach up the river. As the militia trickled in during the day on September 2, he supplied any, who were unarmed, with muskets and ammunition from the ship’s stores.
Lewis and Little, meanwhile, were leading their men up the road along the west bank of the river. The latter, observing a detachment of Royal Riflemen landing to be in position to intercept them, turned his men into the woods and never reached the battle.
In the afternoon, Morris went into town to attend a council of war with General Blake, the commander of the militia and several prominent townspeople at the Hampden Academy Building. Blake had established a rough line with the right anchored on a church, extending in front of the Academy to the river. To the south was the burial ground, Sowadabscook Stream and Pitcher’s Brook. Pickets were placed overlooking Bald Hill Cove approximately three miles down the river.
Morris was dismayed to find total confusion. Blake had developed no clear plan for the 500 men, who were arriving, no positions had been prepared, and the townspeople were advocating no resistance relying instead on British magnanimity.
At sunset, Barrie’s troops aboard the transport landed on the shores of Bald Hill Cove. These were light infantry riflemen, with weapons more accurate and of longer range than the standard smoothbore musket. Elite troops, they had served with Wellington.
Blake’s pickets withdrew.
Throughout the long, rainy night the throng of citizen soldiers stood to arms. To untrained farmers and tradesmen, most of whom had never heard a shot fired in anger, the night was long indeed. Rumors would have flown up and down the line. The stress would have rendered many inconveniently ill.
The morning of September 3 came with a thick fog and movement of the British troops.
Through faulty intelligence, they believed they were facing 1400 militia, thus moved cautiously up the road towards Hampden with a local guide pressed into service. A line of skirmishers was thrown across the front followed by a company of the 60th Regiment, a green-coated regiment formed in great part from German and Dutch prisoners of war unhappy at being forced to support Napoleon. The flanks were guarded by detachments of marines from the ships. Behind it in support followed a second company of the 29th Regiment trailed by a battery of light artillery.
Around 8 AM, marching in quickstep, they broke out of the fog almost upon the startled Mainers, who fired a ragged volley at them. Immediately the center of the militia line collapsed, and without orders began a swift retreat. Morris, his men firing downriver at the British ships and landing barges, saw the collapse and ordered his guns to be spiked and the Adams set ablaze.
Within an hour, the British were in possession of Hampden. The battle, which turned out to be the last in the northern theater of the war, was nearly bloodless. One notable casualty was the unfortunate pressed into service by the British as a guide.
The citizens, who had counted on British magnanimity were sorely disappointed as their cattle were killed and houses sacked. Pleading to CPT Barrie for humanity, he responded, “I have none for you. I will spare your lives, though I mean to burn your houses.” Many were taken to the ships to be detained and a bond of $12,000 was levied on the town.
Two thirds of Barrie’s troops pressed upriver to Bangor. There was no stomach for fighting in Bangor where the citizens determined to rely on Barrie’s good will, and under a flag of truce, surrendered the town unconditionally. Some of them must have felt that resistance might have been the better course as public buildings were commandeered, foodstuffs confiscated and the troops set free to loot. After receiving a pledge of a $30,000 bond, Barrie called off his men.
They then bedded down for what must have been an uneasy night in Bangor. When the next day dawned, the occupiers busied themselves with burning a few more vessels anchored in or on the stocks in the river, and withdrew to Hampden.
Barrie’s men then began boarding the transports to return to Castine, stopping along the way in Frankfort to relieve the townspeople there of a large number of oxen, sheep and geese. On September 7 the victorious force dropped anchor in Castine. The Penobscot River campaign had ended.
To be continued
Sunday, August 1, 2010
The Enemy At the Gates: The British Invasion of Maine Part 2
The Arrival of the Adams
Concern spread quickly along the coast as militia units stood to arms. The militia in Bangor was ordered to reinforce the regular troops in Castine. In Machias, the citizens prepared to evacuate ahead of what was sure to come.
On July 25, Harpswell held a special town meeting electing Stephen Purinton to go to Boston as the town’s agent to collect Harpswell’s quota of the state arms and ammunition, providing he could procure them at state expense with no cost to the town.
At the same time, CPT Robert Barrie, commanding the 74 gun HMS Dragon arrived in Halifax with a convoy of supply ships in tow. Using Dragon as the lead, a powerful task force consisting of three 74’s, two frigates recently transferred from the Mediterranean, several smaller ships and transports with approximately 3,000 men and families from the 60th, 62nd, and 98th regiments was readied for action in the Machias and Penobscot Bay areas.
On September 1, this powerful fleet dropped anchor in the harbor of Castine. The two detachments for American troops, 28 regulars under the command of LT Lewis and 98 militia led by LT Little, sensing the precariousness of their position, blew up the fort before being called upon to surrender and fled up the bay to Bucksport with Lewis’ men dragging along two three pound field pieces.
The invaders began ferrying ashore, where they commandeered the largest buildings as barracks and the finest homes as officers’ quarters. Foraging parties were sent out to the surrounding farms over the next few days to bring in fresh food. A messenger, flying the Union Jack, was sent across the bay to Belfast bearing a warning to the citizens there that no harm would come to them if they did not interfere in British operations.
The US troops withdrawing to Bucksport accomplished a successful river crossing during the night, leaving the field pieces behind. Their pursuers recovered them after threatening to put the town to the torch.
Several weeks prior to the invasion, the 24 gun corvette USS Adams, under the command of Charles Morris, a former lieutenant on the USS Constitution had been preying on British shipping, but in severe weather, had barely survived grounding on a ledge off Isle au Haut.
Limping the stricken ship into Camden, Morris discharged his prisoners, but ascertained that port to be too vulnerable to accomplish needed repairs. So, he slipped up the Penobscot River to the mouth of Sowadabscook Stream at the southern end of the town of Hampden where repairs could be made in relative safety.
The enlisted prisoners, meanwhile, were marched off from Camden to internment at Ft. Edgecomb near Wiscassett, while, as was customary, the officers were released on parole. This group had no intention of honoring the terms of their release, however, and bribed a local resident to sail them to Eastport and the British garrison there.
In an event, which could only be described as comical, as they began to make their getaway, they discovered there was no liquor on board the boat, so one of their number went back on shore where he was promptly arrested in a store while trying to make the purchase. The rest fled, pursued by faster American boats, which overtook them and turned back towards Camden. So jubilant and overconfident were these Mainers at their capture of their former prisoners, that the escapees were able to turn the tables on their captors, take over the boats and sail safely to the shelter of the British lines.
To be continued
Concern spread quickly along the coast as militia units stood to arms. The militia in Bangor was ordered to reinforce the regular troops in Castine. In Machias, the citizens prepared to evacuate ahead of what was sure to come.
On July 25, Harpswell held a special town meeting electing Stephen Purinton to go to Boston as the town’s agent to collect Harpswell’s quota of the state arms and ammunition, providing he could procure them at state expense with no cost to the town.
At the same time, CPT Robert Barrie, commanding the 74 gun HMS Dragon arrived in Halifax with a convoy of supply ships in tow. Using Dragon as the lead, a powerful task force consisting of three 74’s, two frigates recently transferred from the Mediterranean, several smaller ships and transports with approximately 3,000 men and families from the 60th, 62nd, and 98th regiments was readied for action in the Machias and Penobscot Bay areas.
On September 1, this powerful fleet dropped anchor in the harbor of Castine. The two detachments for American troops, 28 regulars under the command of LT Lewis and 98 militia led by LT Little, sensing the precariousness of their position, blew up the fort before being called upon to surrender and fled up the bay to Bucksport with Lewis’ men dragging along two three pound field pieces.
The invaders began ferrying ashore, where they commandeered the largest buildings as barracks and the finest homes as officers’ quarters. Foraging parties were sent out to the surrounding farms over the next few days to bring in fresh food. A messenger, flying the Union Jack, was sent across the bay to Belfast bearing a warning to the citizens there that no harm would come to them if they did not interfere in British operations.
The US troops withdrawing to Bucksport accomplished a successful river crossing during the night, leaving the field pieces behind. Their pursuers recovered them after threatening to put the town to the torch.
Several weeks prior to the invasion, the 24 gun corvette USS Adams, under the command of Charles Morris, a former lieutenant on the USS Constitution had been preying on British shipping, but in severe weather, had barely survived grounding on a ledge off Isle au Haut.
Limping the stricken ship into Camden, Morris discharged his prisoners, but ascertained that port to be too vulnerable to accomplish needed repairs. So, he slipped up the Penobscot River to the mouth of Sowadabscook Stream at the southern end of the town of Hampden where repairs could be made in relative safety.
The enlisted prisoners, meanwhile, were marched off from Camden to internment at Ft. Edgecomb near Wiscassett, while, as was customary, the officers were released on parole. This group had no intention of honoring the terms of their release, however, and bribed a local resident to sail them to Eastport and the British garrison there.
In an event, which could only be described as comical, as they began to make their getaway, they discovered there was no liquor on board the boat, so one of their number went back on shore where he was promptly arrested in a store while trying to make the purchase. The rest fled, pursued by faster American boats, which overtook them and turned back towards Camden. So jubilant and overconfident were these Mainers at their capture of their former prisoners, that the escapees were able to turn the tables on their captors, take over the boats and sail safely to the shelter of the British lines.
To be continued
Thursday, July 1, 2010
The Enemy At the Gates: The British Invasion of Maine
In September 1814 the War of 1812, which had for the most part passed Maine by, came to its shores in earnest. A little known part of American history, it had the potential to radically change not only this state, but the entire nation as well.
The march towards open conflict with England had begun since the early days of the United States’ independence, finally coming to a head over England’s attempts at restricting American trade, particularly with Napoleon’s Europe and the Royal Navy’s practice of impressing American sailors into its service on the high seas.
With its long, well-harbored coastline and seafaring tradition, it was, perhaps, inevitable that Maine, then part of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, would be drawn deeply into the war.
President Jefferson’s Embargo Act of 1807, which had prohibited the exportation of any merchandise from the U.S. had caused an economic depression in Maine. Up and down the coast, goods rotted in warehouses, ships lay idle at wharves and seamen were unemployed. Although the act was repealed in 1809, its memory created a strong anti-war sentiment along the Eastern Seaboard.
At a special Harpswell town meeting held on August 24, 1812, for example, Stephen Purinton and John Curtis were elected delegates to a county convention “to take measures to alleviate the miseries of war and bring about a speedy and lasting peace.”
With the declaration of war in 1812, the British, were aware the sentiment for war was centered mainly in the south and west, and realizing profit could be gained from continued trade, decided to leave New England be. It was said in Maine at the time, a young man wanting action should sign aboard a privateer and not join the militia.
Even when the president called for militia units to be placed under federal control, Governor Strong disregarded the order, stating it would leave the Commonwealth undefended in violation of the Massachusetts constitution. George Ulmer was given a presidential commission of colonel and placed in command of the regular troops at Ft. Sullivan in Eastport, ME. “It was Ulmer’s design and duty,” wrote one Maine historian, “To prevent, if possible, all smuggling and intercourse with the enemy, in the faithful discharge of which, he gave to the inhabitants some affront.” Ulmer’s reward for attempting to eliminate commerce in contraband was to be relieved of command.
The brief, sharp engagement between the USS Enterprise and HMS Boxer off Monhegan Island in September 1813 was a brief reminder to Maine that there was a war going on.
To reinforce the defense of Eastport, two additional forts were established at Robbinston, garrisoned with 30 men, and a 70 man force stationed on Moose Island.
In the summer of 1814, war finally arrived, when on July 11, an expedition launched secretly from Halifax, NS, led by the 74 gun HMS Ramilies anchored off Eastport. Commodore Sir Thomas Hardy demanded an immediate surrender. The new American commander, Maj. Putnam, demurred, but through pressure from the local inhabitants, struck his colors without resistance. Hardy ordered 1000 soldiers from the 102nd regiment put ashore along with a number of their wives and children. All public property was immediately confiscated, and the surrendering Americans were placed aboard a prison ship.
$9,000 in unsigned Treasury Notes was seized, which the customs collector refused to sign even under threat of death. Hardy did not carry out the threat and issued a proclamation declaring US laws would remain in effect but ordering all inhabitants to swear an oath of allegiance to the Crown. Eventually about 2/3 of the population did so. To secure his conquests, he left inn place a garrison of 800 men and a Royal Customs collector.
Almost instantly resourceful locals began a brisk smuggling operation of cattle and local goods into the British lines.
To further secure the area, a party was dispatched to drive out the garrison at Robbinston. The lieutenant in charge, realizing opposition to the highly trained, motivated British troops was futile, ordered the destruction of everything that could not be taken and withdrew to Machias. An additional British raiding party was put ashore to spike the guns at the fort below Thomaston, rendering them useless.
To be continued
The march towards open conflict with England had begun since the early days of the United States’ independence, finally coming to a head over England’s attempts at restricting American trade, particularly with Napoleon’s Europe and the Royal Navy’s practice of impressing American sailors into its service on the high seas.
With its long, well-harbored coastline and seafaring tradition, it was, perhaps, inevitable that Maine, then part of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, would be drawn deeply into the war.
President Jefferson’s Embargo Act of 1807, which had prohibited the exportation of any merchandise from the U.S. had caused an economic depression in Maine. Up and down the coast, goods rotted in warehouses, ships lay idle at wharves and seamen were unemployed. Although the act was repealed in 1809, its memory created a strong anti-war sentiment along the Eastern Seaboard.
At a special Harpswell town meeting held on August 24, 1812, for example, Stephen Purinton and John Curtis were elected delegates to a county convention “to take measures to alleviate the miseries of war and bring about a speedy and lasting peace.”
With the declaration of war in 1812, the British, were aware the sentiment for war was centered mainly in the south and west, and realizing profit could be gained from continued trade, decided to leave New England be. It was said in Maine at the time, a young man wanting action should sign aboard a privateer and not join the militia.
Even when the president called for militia units to be placed under federal control, Governor Strong disregarded the order, stating it would leave the Commonwealth undefended in violation of the Massachusetts constitution. George Ulmer was given a presidential commission of colonel and placed in command of the regular troops at Ft. Sullivan in Eastport, ME. “It was Ulmer’s design and duty,” wrote one Maine historian, “To prevent, if possible, all smuggling and intercourse with the enemy, in the faithful discharge of which, he gave to the inhabitants some affront.” Ulmer’s reward for attempting to eliminate commerce in contraband was to be relieved of command.
The brief, sharp engagement between the USS Enterprise and HMS Boxer off Monhegan Island in September 1813 was a brief reminder to Maine that there was a war going on.
To reinforce the defense of Eastport, two additional forts were established at Robbinston, garrisoned with 30 men, and a 70 man force stationed on Moose Island.
In the summer of 1814, war finally arrived, when on July 11, an expedition launched secretly from Halifax, NS, led by the 74 gun HMS Ramilies anchored off Eastport. Commodore Sir Thomas Hardy demanded an immediate surrender. The new American commander, Maj. Putnam, demurred, but through pressure from the local inhabitants, struck his colors without resistance. Hardy ordered 1000 soldiers from the 102nd regiment put ashore along with a number of their wives and children. All public property was immediately confiscated, and the surrendering Americans were placed aboard a prison ship.
$9,000 in unsigned Treasury Notes was seized, which the customs collector refused to sign even under threat of death. Hardy did not carry out the threat and issued a proclamation declaring US laws would remain in effect but ordering all inhabitants to swear an oath of allegiance to the Crown. Eventually about 2/3 of the population did so. To secure his conquests, he left inn place a garrison of 800 men and a Royal Customs collector.
Almost instantly resourceful locals began a brisk smuggling operation of cattle and local goods into the British lines.
To further secure the area, a party was dispatched to drive out the garrison at Robbinston. The lieutenant in charge, realizing opposition to the highly trained, motivated British troops was futile, ordered the destruction of everything that could not be taken and withdrew to Machias. An additional British raiding party was put ashore to spike the guns at the fort below Thomaston, rendering them useless.
To be continued
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Enterprise and Boxer: The Battle off Maine's Coast
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On September 5, 1813, during the War of 1812, the USS Enterprise, cruising the coast of Maine, encountered the brig HMS Boxer off Pemaquid Point and began a violent, brief battle which has entered US Naval lore and was memorialized in poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
Although the Royal Navy had done little to blockade trade north of Cape Cod, as we shall see later, the Coast of Maine was nonetheless open to depredation by British warships and privateers. In once incident, linked to Harpswell, James Sinnett of Bailey Island and his brothers were engaged in fishing when hailed by a large vessel identifying itself as the US warship, Essex. When they came aboard, they were informed they were on the 18 gun HMS Rattler, and were prisoners! The captain loaded the Sinnett’s schooner with 20 Royal Navy seamen, who were then ordered to reconnoiter the coast. After a week, during which the brothers were well treated, their boat was returned and the Rattler sailed south.
In fact the Rattler sailed on into the mouth of the Merrimac River at Newburyport! The communities along the coast began to doubt the efficiency of the US Navy, and in response the Navy transferred the Enterprise to Portsmouth to patrol the area.
The Enterprise had recently returned from a mission familiar to today’s Navy. She had been engaged in combating pirates off the coast of Africa. Refitted as a brig and mounted with 16 guns, she was ready for business. The new captain, William Burrows, had recently arrived from Philadelphia and prepared her for sea.
In the meantime, the HMS Boxer, also rigged out as a brig and armed with 14 guns was making its way southwest from St. John, NB. Off the coast of Lubec, she sighted and captured a small sailing craft, which was “manned” by a group of women out for a sail. Samuel Blyth, the captain, had them brought aboard, informed them politely that perhaps they should confine their pleasure cruising closer in shore and released them, to return with stories of their adventures. By coincidence, one of the ladies was the wife of the militia commander in the area, who was so impressed with Blyth’s chivalrous behavior, that he placed advertisements in local newspapers announcing it. It is a poignant feature of this story is, that despite being at war, the combatants did not seem to hold any hostility towards one another.
Burrows left Portsmouth along the coast testing the speed and handling of his ship as he went. The winds were very calm, and the crew was engaged, from time to time in sweeping, and exhausting task, which involved the deployment of large oars from the side of the ship. On September 4, near Portland, the crew could hear cannon fire coming from the area near Sequin Island, but due to the calm weather, they were unable to close and determine its source.
By the morning of September 5, off Pemaquid, they sighted a ship at anchor in the harbor there. They watched as the strange vessel shook loose its sails and slowly came out to meet them. Lookouts in the masts saw three Union Jacks flying, and the crew of the Enterprise prepared themselves for a battle. But Burrows surprised them. He ordered the Enterprise to pull out to sea away from the approaching Britisher. His crew, spoiling for a fight, was outraged. However, they soon realized what their captain was up to: He was maneuvering his ship to get the wind advantage and test his own speed against that of the enemy. Around 2 PM Burrows ordered the “beat to quarters,” and the battle began with broadsides from both vessels. The black powder from the guns soon turned the area into a manmade fog bank.
Henry Wadsworth Longefellow’s poetic account tells of the citizens of Portland hearing the gunfire from the battle, but that was not true. From the top of the observatory, the keeper with a telescope could see the battle and called down its progress as he could see it. Inhabitants of Edgecomb and Wiscasset could hear the distant grumbling, however.
Aboard the ships life was a hell of fear and confusion. Lethal metal and wood fragments flew everywhere. Blyth was struck in the body and killed. Cpt. Burrows was hit in the groin by a musket ball fired from the Boxer’s tops and fatally wounded.
Using its superior speed, the Enterprise moved ahead of the Boxer, swung to starboard bringing its broadside to bear down the entire length of the doomed ship. The top of the enemy’s mainmast fell, bringing down much of the rigging. Pivoting the other way, the Enterprise raked the Boxer with another broad side.
It was evident the Boxer was finished. Second Lieutenant Tillinghast called across to his adversary asking if they were ready to quit. An officer shouted back they were not, but he was quickly pulled to the deck and a second officer declared they were. “Pull down your colors,” Tillinghast commanded. “We can’t.” came the reply, “They’re nailed up to the mast.” “Send some one up to cut them down. We’ll hold our fire.” And so the battle ended.
When presented with his dead adversary’s sword, the dying Burrows asked that it be returned to Blyth’s family and said, “I die contented.”
The Enterprise with Boxer following under control of a prize crew sailed slowly back passed Halfway Rock into Portland Harbor.
It is now known if any residents of Harpswell were down on the shore, for certainly anyone fishing off Bailey Island might well have been able to see the smoke and the distant thunder of the guns. That information, if it exists is not known.
In Portland Harbor, First Lieutenant Edward McCall, now in command of the Enterprise began the work of repair and personnel matters. He was quite surprised with he was approached by a local business man with a strange request. The gentleman represented a group of business people, he claimed, who had shipped in a boat load of English wool. They had engaged Blyth, while the Boxer was in St. John, and had in fact, given him a £100 note for protection. Their goods were aboard a Swedish vessel, Margaretta, and were escorted by the Boxer to the mouth of the Kennebec where, they had requested Blyth fire off a few cannon to make it appear that they had been chased into port. Would McCall sell them back the note for $500? The lieutenant was incensed at first, but the gentleman, obviously a smooth talker, convinced him that the wool was needed by the Army, and it was for that reason that this group of citizens was using the enemy’s navy for protection.
Yankee and English merchants were not adverse to continue trading with each other and a brisk trade apparently existed between Mainers and British ships hovering off shore. The commander of the fort built at Cundy’s Harbor at the time, for example, wanted to put a stop to it, and ordered all vessels leaving the Harbor pull in for inspection. One fishing vessel owned by a man named Dingley refused, and the guard at the fort fired, holing his boat, which barely made it back to shore. Whether that created more obedience to the rules, we do not know.
There were further prisoner issues to clear up. A group of fishermen from nearby Monhegan Island had approached the Boxer earlier, requesting that the surgeon come to the island to attend to an injured colleague. The kindly Blyth allowed him to go accompanied by two midshipman and an army officer passenger, who wanted to participate in some bird hunting.
Once they knew the battle was to be joined, they borrowed a rowboat to return, but were unable to catch up and had to return to the island where the inhabitants figured it would be a good idea to take their weapons, which were just fowling pieces. The four “guests,” watched the battle from the cemetery up the hill from the landing, and were returned to Portland to join their shipmates in captivity.
On September 9, both captains were buried side by side on Munjoy Hill in Portland with full military honors. The local authorities allowed their British prisoners to march in the parade and accompany their captain to his gravesite.
The Enterprise was repaired and ended her days in the Caribbean aground on a ledge, with no loss of life. The Boxer was also repaired, sold to private interests and ended her days as a merchantman.
On September 5, 1813, during the War of 1812, the USS Enterprise, cruising the coast of Maine, encountered the brig HMS Boxer off Pemaquid Point and began a violent, brief battle which has entered US Naval lore and was memorialized in poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
Although the Royal Navy had done little to blockade trade north of Cape Cod, as we shall see later, the Coast of Maine was nonetheless open to depredation by British warships and privateers. In once incident, linked to Harpswell, James Sinnett of Bailey Island and his brothers were engaged in fishing when hailed by a large vessel identifying itself as the US warship, Essex. When they came aboard, they were informed they were on the 18 gun HMS Rattler, and were prisoners! The captain loaded the Sinnett’s schooner with 20 Royal Navy seamen, who were then ordered to reconnoiter the coast. After a week, during which the brothers were well treated, their boat was returned and the Rattler sailed south.
In fact the Rattler sailed on into the mouth of the Merrimac River at Newburyport! The communities along the coast began to doubt the efficiency of the US Navy, and in response the Navy transferred the Enterprise to Portsmouth to patrol the area.
The Enterprise had recently returned from a mission familiar to today’s Navy. She had been engaged in combating pirates off the coast of Africa. Refitted as a brig and mounted with 16 guns, she was ready for business. The new captain, William Burrows, had recently arrived from Philadelphia and prepared her for sea.
In the meantime, the HMS Boxer, also rigged out as a brig and armed with 14 guns was making its way southwest from St. John, NB. Off the coast of Lubec, she sighted and captured a small sailing craft, which was “manned” by a group of women out for a sail. Samuel Blyth, the captain, had them brought aboard, informed them politely that perhaps they should confine their pleasure cruising closer in shore and released them, to return with stories of their adventures. By coincidence, one of the ladies was the wife of the militia commander in the area, who was so impressed with Blyth’s chivalrous behavior, that he placed advertisements in local newspapers announcing it. It is a poignant feature of this story is, that despite being at war, the combatants did not seem to hold any hostility towards one another.
Burrows left Portsmouth along the coast testing the speed and handling of his ship as he went. The winds were very calm, and the crew was engaged, from time to time in sweeping, and exhausting task, which involved the deployment of large oars from the side of the ship. On September 4, near Portland, the crew could hear cannon fire coming from the area near Sequin Island, but due to the calm weather, they were unable to close and determine its source.
By the morning of September 5, off Pemaquid, they sighted a ship at anchor in the harbor there. They watched as the strange vessel shook loose its sails and slowly came out to meet them. Lookouts in the masts saw three Union Jacks flying, and the crew of the Enterprise prepared themselves for a battle. But Burrows surprised them. He ordered the Enterprise to pull out to sea away from the approaching Britisher. His crew, spoiling for a fight, was outraged. However, they soon realized what their captain was up to: He was maneuvering his ship to get the wind advantage and test his own speed against that of the enemy. Around 2 PM Burrows ordered the “beat to quarters,” and the battle began with broadsides from both vessels. The black powder from the guns soon turned the area into a manmade fog bank.
Henry Wadsworth Longefellow’s poetic account tells of the citizens of Portland hearing the gunfire from the battle, but that was not true. From the top of the observatory, the keeper with a telescope could see the battle and called down its progress as he could see it. Inhabitants of Edgecomb and Wiscasset could hear the distant grumbling, however.
Aboard the ships life was a hell of fear and confusion. Lethal metal and wood fragments flew everywhere. Blyth was struck in the body and killed. Cpt. Burrows was hit in the groin by a musket ball fired from the Boxer’s tops and fatally wounded.
Using its superior speed, the Enterprise moved ahead of the Boxer, swung to starboard bringing its broadside to bear down the entire length of the doomed ship. The top of the enemy’s mainmast fell, bringing down much of the rigging. Pivoting the other way, the Enterprise raked the Boxer with another broad side.
It was evident the Boxer was finished. Second Lieutenant Tillinghast called across to his adversary asking if they were ready to quit. An officer shouted back they were not, but he was quickly pulled to the deck and a second officer declared they were. “Pull down your colors,” Tillinghast commanded. “We can’t.” came the reply, “They’re nailed up to the mast.” “Send some one up to cut them down. We’ll hold our fire.” And so the battle ended.
When presented with his dead adversary’s sword, the dying Burrows asked that it be returned to Blyth’s family and said, “I die contented.”
The Enterprise with Boxer following under control of a prize crew sailed slowly back passed Halfway Rock into Portland Harbor.
It is now known if any residents of Harpswell were down on the shore, for certainly anyone fishing off Bailey Island might well have been able to see the smoke and the distant thunder of the guns. That information, if it exists is not known.
In Portland Harbor, First Lieutenant Edward McCall, now in command of the Enterprise began the work of repair and personnel matters. He was quite surprised with he was approached by a local business man with a strange request. The gentleman represented a group of business people, he claimed, who had shipped in a boat load of English wool. They had engaged Blyth, while the Boxer was in St. John, and had in fact, given him a £100 note for protection. Their goods were aboard a Swedish vessel, Margaretta, and were escorted by the Boxer to the mouth of the Kennebec where, they had requested Blyth fire off a few cannon to make it appear that they had been chased into port. Would McCall sell them back the note for $500? The lieutenant was incensed at first, but the gentleman, obviously a smooth talker, convinced him that the wool was needed by the Army, and it was for that reason that this group of citizens was using the enemy’s navy for protection.
Yankee and English merchants were not adverse to continue trading with each other and a brisk trade apparently existed between Mainers and British ships hovering off shore. The commander of the fort built at Cundy’s Harbor at the time, for example, wanted to put a stop to it, and ordered all vessels leaving the Harbor pull in for inspection. One fishing vessel owned by a man named Dingley refused, and the guard at the fort fired, holing his boat, which barely made it back to shore. Whether that created more obedience to the rules, we do not know.
There were further prisoner issues to clear up. A group of fishermen from nearby Monhegan Island had approached the Boxer earlier, requesting that the surgeon come to the island to attend to an injured colleague. The kindly Blyth allowed him to go accompanied by two midshipman and an army officer passenger, who wanted to participate in some bird hunting.
Once they knew the battle was to be joined, they borrowed a rowboat to return, but were unable to catch up and had to return to the island where the inhabitants figured it would be a good idea to take their weapons, which were just fowling pieces. The four “guests,” watched the battle from the cemetery up the hill from the landing, and were returned to Portland to join their shipmates in captivity.
On September 9, both captains were buried side by side on Munjoy Hill in Portland with full military honors. The local authorities allowed their British prisoners to march in the parade and accompany their captain to his gravesite.
The Enterprise was repaired and ended her days in the Caribbean aground on a ledge, with no loss of life. The Boxer was also repaired, sold to private interests and ended her days as a merchantman.
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