It was a proud day for him; he had redeemed his pledge to the government, and added another wreath to the laurels that already crowned the American navy. The Constitution lay by the Java for two or three days, in order that the wounded might be removed with care and safety. When this was accomplished, the latter vessel being so completely riddled that it would be impossible to get her into an American port, was blown up. Our gunners fired with too accurate an aim; they so destroyed the vessels of the enemy, that they could not be secured as prizes. The Constitution was carried into St. Salvador, where her arrival did not improve the prospect before the Bonne Citoyenne, should she venture to break a lance with the Hornet. She was apparently preparing to go to sea that night, with the intention of avoiding her antagonist if convenient, and fighting her if necessary. The capture of the Java, however, produced a change in her plans, and she took eighteen days longer to reflect on the subject. Commodore Bainbridge dismissed the private passengers found on board the Java, without regarding them as prisoners of war, while all the others were released on their parol. Governor Hislop presented him with an elegant sword, as a token of his esteem and an acknowledgment of the kindness with which he had been treated. Captain Lambert, commander of the Java, was mortally wounded, and just before his removal to the shore, Bainbridge, leaning on the shoulders of two officers, hobbled into his room to restore to him his sword. It was a touching spectacle, the wounded victor presenting to his dying antagonist, the sword he never would wield again, accompanying it with expressions of esteem and kindly hopes. Captain Lambert received it with emotion, and returned his thanks. Two days after, it was laid across his breast. It was not dishonored in its owner's hand, for his ship had been gallantly fought to the last, and surrendered only when not a sail could be set. Bainbridge, at this time, was not quite forty years of age. Six feet in height, of commanding person, and an eye that burned like fire in battle, he moved over his quarter deck the impersonation of a hero. His noble conduct to the prisoners, won him the praise even of his enemies. An English Admiral, when told of it, shook his head, remarking, that it had an ominous look when a young commander, in a navy unaccustomed to victory, could treat his foes so like an old Spanish cavalier.[31]