The contest was not a long one. The Dog Star was
of much greater tonnage and heavier armament than her
antagonist, and early in the afternoon she steamed for
St. John's, taking with her as prizes both the Eliza
Drum and the Lennehaha.

All that night, at every point in the United States
which was reached by telegraph, there burned a
smothered fire; and the next morning, when the regular
and extra editions of the newspapers were poured out
upon the land, the fire burst into a roaring blaze.
From lakes to gulf, from ocean to ocean, on mountain
and plain, in city and prairie, it roared and blazed.
Parties, sections, politics, were all forgotten. Every
American formed part of an electric system; the same
fire flashed into every soul. No matter what might be
thought on the morrow, or in the coming days which
might bring better under-standing, this day the
unreasoning fire blazed and roared.

With morning newspapers in their hands, men rushed
from the breakfast-tables into the streets to meet
their fellow-men. What was it that they should do?

Detailed accounts of the affair came rapidly, but
there was nothing in them to quiet the national
indignation; the American flag had been hauled down by
Englishmen, an American naval vessel had been fired
into and captured; that was enough! No matter whether
the Eliza Drum was within the three-mile limit or