Sardinian by birth, soldier of fortune by profession, Spanish officer by rank won in Spanish wars, he was to me a most interesting character. Bold, yet cautious, rash yet diplomatic, shrewd yet daring, accomplished gentleman yet reckless adventurer, Indian by mode of life, but in manner and preferred tongue French—he was a type of that age and that civilization, which alone could have produced his like.
"Ah, McElroy," he called to me, as I gave him my hand to help him spring ashore, speaking in what he called English tongue, but which was really an impossible dialect, composed of a conglomerate of English, French, Italian, Spanish and Indian words, so that I do not attempt to reproduce it, but give only the substance of his utterances, "It is you then, and where is the Colonel?"
"Visiting," I answered, rather curtly; "do you come from Vincennes?"
"So the Colonel is courting the fair Americaness, eh?—and you, mon ami, sulk upon the rock! Is it that you have surrendered? I thought it not possible for a stubborn Scotchman to own defeat—but this is no time for banter. Yes, Captain McElroy, I come from Vincennes, and I have for the Colonel important news. He must arouse himself from the idle pleasure of paying court to beauty, and go back to the arduous work of a soldier would he hold his footing on the Wabash."
Meantime we had reached the village, and were soon before the Commandant's house. A panin summoned Clark for us, and together we walked toward the fort, while Colonel Vigo told how Vincennes had fallen, and outlined clearly the present state of affairs at that place. The fort had been repaired and restocked, and was garrisoned by a force of eighty mixed English and Canadians. The French inhabitants were over-awed, and the Wabash Indians were in sympathy with the English. The Miamis, who had recently made a pretended treaty with us, were really agents of Hamilton, having been hired by him to kill or capture Clark, and as many of his men as possible. Having been disappointed in their anticipations of big scalp money, they were awaiting surlily a chance of revenge. The French were, however, in heart, still loyal to us, and Father Gibault—who had been all the time with Captain Helm, as also had Scout Givens—was using all his diplomacy for us. It was due to his insistence that Colonel Vigo was released, and allowed to leave the town, even though he refused to swear that he would do nothing hostile to the British cause.
Clark heard Colonel Vigo to the end, then asked two or three questions as to General Hamilton's expectation of reënforcements, or apparent apprehension lest he be attacked by the Americans. Colonel Vigo answered that he seemed to anticipate neither the one nor the other, whereupon Clark turned to his officers, now gathered about him, and said in the tone of a man promulgating some joyful news.
"Men, we march at once to Vincennes! We are too near success to yield to the first reverse. Have the drum beat for roll call, McElroy!"
When all the men, and many of the villagers, were assembled on the parade ground before the fort, Clark clambered upon the body of a calèche and made them one of his stirring speeches, recalling the treachery of General Hamilton and the successful stratagem of Captain Helm.
At its conclusion, loud cheers rang forth, and the men crowded about the calèche.
"Right, Colonel," called one of the men, "we must thrash this 'hair-buyer' General; he has been needing a lesson for some time."