After the action had lasted some time, Bainbridge determined to close with his enemy at every hazard. He set his courses accordingly, and luffed up close to the wind. This brought matters to a crisis, and the Englishman, finding the Constitution’s fire too heavy, attempted to run her aboard. His jib-boom did get foul of the American frigate’s mizzen rigging, but the end of his bowsprit being shot away, and his foremast soon after following, the ships passed clear of each other, making a lucky escape for the assailants.[[6]] The battle continued some time longer, the Constitution throwing in several effective raking broadsides, and then falling alongside of her enemy to leeward. At length, finding her adversary’s guns silenced and his ensign down, Bainbridge boarded his tacks again, luffed up athwart the Englishman’s bows, and got a position ahead and to windward, in order to repair damages; actually coming out of the battle as he had gone into it, with royal yards across, and every spar, from the highest to the lowest, in its place! The enemy presented a singular contrast. Stick after stick had been shot out of him, as it might be, inch by inch too, until nothing, but a few stumps, was left. All her masts were gone, the foremast having been shot away twice, once near the catharpings, and again much nearer to the deck; the main-topmast had come down some time before the mainmast fell. The bowsprit, as has been said, was shot away at the cap. After receiving these damages, the enemy did not wait for a new attack, but as soon as the Constitution came round, with an intention to cross his fore-foot, he lowered a jack which had been flying at the stump of his mizzenmast.
The ship Bainbridge captured was the Java 38, Capt. Lambert. The Java was a French built ship that had been taken some time previously, under the name of La Renommée, in those seas where lies the island after which she was subsequently called. She mounted 49 carriage guns, and had a sufficient number of supernumeraries on board to raise her complement at quarters to something like 400 souls. Of these the English accounts admit that 124 were killed and wounded; though Bainbridge thought her loss was materially greater. It is said a muster-list was found in the ship, that was dated five days after the Java left England, and which contained 446 names. From these, however, was to be deducted the crew for a prize she had taken; the ship in company when made the day of the action. Capt. Lambert died of his wounds; but there was a master and commander on board, among the passengers, and the surviving first lieutenant was an officer of merit.
In addition to the officers and seamen who were in the Java, as passengers, were Lieutenant-General Hislop and his staff, the former of whom was going to Bombay as governor. Bainbridge treated these captives with great liberality and kindness, and, after destroying his prize for want of means to refit her, he landed all his prisoners, on parole, at St. Salvador.
In this action the Constitution had nine men killed and twenty-five men wounded. She was a good deal cut up in the rigging, and had a few spars injured, but, considering the vigor of the engagement and the smoothness of the water, she escaped with but little injury. There is no doubt that she was a heavier ship than her adversary, but the difference in the batteries was less than appeared by the nominal calibres of the guns; the American shot, in that war, being generally of light weight, while those of the Java, by some accounts, were French.
It has been said that Bainbridge disregarded his own wounds until the irritation endangered his life. His last injury must have been received about half past two, and he remained actively engaged on deck until 11 o’clock at night; thus adding the irritation of eight hours of exertion to the original injuries. The consequences were some exceedingly threatening symptoms, but skilful treatment subdued them, when his recovery was rapid.
An interesting interview took place between Bainbridge and Lambert, on the quarter-deck of the Constitution, after the arrival of the ship at St. Salvador. The English captain was in his cot, and Bainbridge approached, supported by two of his own officers, to take his leave, and to restore the dying man his sword. This interview has been described as touching, and as leaving kind feelings between the parting officers. Poor Lambert, an officer of great merit, died a day or two afterwards.
The Constitution now returned home for repairs, being very rotten. She reached Boston February 27, 1813, after a cruise of only four months and one day. Bainbridge returned in triumph, this time, and, if his countrymen had previously manifested a generous sympathy in his misfortunes, they now showed as strong a feeling in his success. The victor was not more esteemed for his courage and skill, than for the high and chivalrous courtesy and liberality with which he had treated his prisoners.
Bainbridge gave up the Constitution on his return home, and resumed the command of the yard at Charlestown, where the Independence 74 was building, a vessel he intended to take, when launched. Here he remained until the peace, that ship not being quite ready to go out when the treaty was signed. In the spring of 1815, a squadron was sent to the Mediterranean, under Decatur, to act against the Dey of Algiers, and Bainbridge followed, as commander-in-chief, in the Independence, though he did not arrive until his active predecessor had brought the war to a successful close. On this occasion, Bainbridge had under his orders the largest naval force that was ever assembled beneath the American flag; from eighteen to twenty sail of efficient cruisers being included in his command. In November, after a cruise of about five months, he returned to Newport, having one ship of the line, two frigates, seven brigs, and three schooners in company. Thus he carried to sea the first two-decker that ever sailed under the American ensign; the present Capt. Bolton being his first lieutenant. During this cruise, Com. Bainbridge arranged several difficulties with the Barbary powers, and in all his service he maintained the honor and dignity of his flag and of his command.
Bainbridge now continued at Boston several years, with his pennant flying in the Independence, as a guard ship. In the autumn of 1819, however, he was detached once more, for the purpose of again commanding in the Mediterranean. This was the fifth time in which he had been sent into that sea; three times in command of frigates, and twice at the head of squadrons. The Columbus 80, an entirely new ship, was selected for his pennant, and he did not sail until April, 1820, in consequence of the work that it was necessary to do on board her. The Columbus reached Gibraltar early in June. This was an easy and a pleasant cruise, one of the objects being to show the squadron in the ports of the Mediterranean, in order to impress the different nations on its coast with the importance of respecting the maritime rights of the republic. Bainbridge had a strong desire to show his present force, the Columbus in particular, before Constantinople, whither he had been sent twenty years before, against his wishes; but a firman could not be procured to pass the castles with so heavy a ship. After remaining out about a year, Bainbridge was relieved, and returned home, the principal objects of his cruise having been effected.
This was Bainbridge’s last duty afloat. He had now made ten cruises in the public service; had commanded a schooner, a brig, five frigates and two line-of-battle ships, besides being at the head of three different squadrons; and it was thought expedient to let younger officers gain some experience. Age did not induce him to retire, for he was not yet fifty; but others had claims on the country, and his family had claims on himself.