But when the _Phœbe_ swept up beside the Yankee ship Captain Hillyar experienced a very great revulsion of feeling. He had approached the _Essex_ under the quarter, where not one of her guns could bear on him, and then slightly shifting his helm he ranged up alongside and within fifteen feet of her. And then to his utter discomfiture he found the Yankee guns fully manned, and every man save one was fit and eager for fight. The warlike ardor of the Englishman instantly evaporated, and he remembered that he had met Captain Porter some years before on the Mediterranean station, and that they had exchanged friendly visits. Instead of ordering his men to fire he jumped on a gun, where he could get a better view of the deck of the _Essex_, and said, with marked politeness: “Captain Hillyar’s compliments to Captain Porter, and hopes he is well.” And Captain Porter, who had never felt better in his life than at that moment, replied: “Very well, I thank you; but I hope you will not come too near for fear some accident might take place which would be disagreeable to you.” And with that he waved his trumpet toward some of the crew forward who, with ropes in hand, were awaiting the signal, and they instantly triced a couple of kedge anchors out to the weather yard-arms ready for dropping on the enemy to grapple him fast in reach of the well-trained Yankee boarders, armed with sharpened cutlasses and dirks made from old files. Indeed the Yankee forecastlemen were so eager that they swarmed to the rail as the anchors rose to the yard-arms, while one of them, a quarter-gunner named Adam Roach, with his sleeves rolled up and cutlass in hand, climbed out on the cathead and stood there, in plain view of the British marines, awaiting the moment when the ships should come together. But they did not come together, yard-arm to yard-arm, either then or afterward. Captain Hillyar hastily braced his yards aback and “exclaimed with great agitation:” “I had no intention of getting on board of you--I had no intention of coming so near you; I am sorry I came so near you.” “Well,” said Porter, “you have no business where you are. _If you touch a rope yarn of this ship, I shall board instantly._” Then he hailed the _Essex Junior_, that was lying handy by, and ordered Lieutenant Downes to prepare to repel the enemy. The _Phœbe_ fell off with her jib-boom over the American deck, her bows exposed to the broadside of the American guns, and her stern exposed to the broadside of the _Essex Junior_. At that moment the one member of the crew who had come on board the _Essex_ drunk, narrowly escaped precipitating the battle. He was a big boy and served as powder-monkey. While standing beside his gun with a slow-burning match in hand waiting for orders, “he saw, through the port, someone on the _Phœbe_ grinning at him.” He was deeply offended at once.