owing day brought her safely to Cape Antonio, which she
rounded under sail and steam, and striking the trade-winds, hoisted up
her propeller and stood away towards the west.

The afternoon of the 3rd July brought the Sumter her first prize. At
about 3 P.M. a sail was descried in shore, beating to windward, and
steering a course that would bring her almost into contact with the
Confederate vessel. To avoid suspicion, no notice was taken of the
stranger until the two vessels had approached within the distance of a
little more than a mile from each other, when a display of English
colours from the Confederate was answered by the stranger with the stars
and stripes of the United States. Down came the St. George's ensign from
the Sumter's peak, to be replaced almost before it had touched the deck
by the stars and bars, which at that time constituted the flag of the
Confederate States. A shot was fired across the bows of the astonished
Yankee, who at once hove-to, and a boat was sent on board to take
possession of the Sumter's first capture.

The prize proved to be the ship Golden Rocket, from the Yankee State of
Maine--a fine ship of 690 tons burthen, only three years old, and worth
from 30,000 to 40,000 dollars. She Was bound to Cienfuegos in Cuba, but
had no cargo on board, and Captain Semmes, being unwilling at that early
stage of his cruise to spare a prize crew, determined to destroy the
vessel, and after taking the captain and crew on board the Sumter set
the prize on fire and left her to her fate.[1]

[Footnote 1: "It was about ten o'clock at night when the first glare of
light burst from her cabin-hatch. Few, few on board can forget the
spectacle. A ship set fire to at sea! It would seem that man was almost
warring with his Maker. Her helpless condition, the red flames licking
the rigging as they climbed aloft, the sparks and pieces of burning rope
taken off by the wind and flying miles to leeward, the ghastly glare
thrown upon the dark sea as far as the eye could reach, and then the
death-like stillness of the scene--all these combined to place the
Golden Rocket on the tablet of our memories for ever. But,
notwithstanding the reluctance with which we did it, we would not have
missed the opportunity for anything on earth. We wanted no war--we
wanted peace; we had dear friends among those who were making war upon
us, and for their sakes, if not for the sake of humanity, we hoped to be
allowed to separate in peace; b