There are but scanty details of the fight. The “Rossie,” which had chased the Packet for several hours, and had not answered the private signal, came within range at 6 P.M. She was flying Spanish colours; but Captain Moorsom, suspecting her nationality, ordered a shot to be fired at her, whereupon she immediately hoisted the Stars and Stripes, crossed the Packet’s stern, and fired a broadside as she did so. The action immediately became warm, and the first ten minutes proved that the Americans were masters of their weapons. Within the first half-hour four or five of Captain Moorsom’s crew were hit. At half-past six the master, Mr. Nankivell, was shot through the head. Twenty minutes later Captain Moorsom himself was killed by a grape-shot which pierced his left breast. The command devolved on Mr. Ridgard, the mate, who was himself badly wounded; and on looking round he discovered that out of the complement of the “Princess Amelia,” consisting only of twenty-eight hands, three were killed, and no less than eleven wounded, for the most part seriously, so that the crew was already reduced to half its number, while the enemy were as five to one. Mr. Ridgard reluctantly concluded that all had been done which was possible to save the Packet. Accordingly the mail was sunk, and at seven o’clock the “Princess Amelia” hauled down her colours. Such was the first action fought by the Falmouth Packets during the American war, a rough forecast of what was to come, justifying anxiety about the immediate future. For Captain Moorsom was one of the ablest of the Post-Office commanders. His ship and crew were in high condition; and yet the accounts of his last fight showed that the event was never doubtful, though his high courage led him to prefer dying on his own quarter-deck to surrendering his trust, even to a crushing superiority of force. In November of the same year a fight upon a greater scale took place, one indeed which was perhaps the most memorable of all those in which the Packets were engaged. Many of the actions described in these pages are out of the common; but a few stand forth from among the rest, marked by quite exceptional circumstances of bravery and devotion. Among these few the action of Captain James Cock in the “Townshend” on November 22nd, 1812, stands first, though unsuccessful. The “Townshend” was armed somewhat more heavily than the “Princess Amelia,” having on board eight 9–pounder carronades, with a long gun of similar calibre used as a chaser. Her crew was also slightly larger, numbering twenty-eight men and four boys. She was within a few hours of dropping her anchor at Bridgetown, Barbados, when the first light of morning revealed two strange vessels cruising in company at no great distance.