tion. Brave, intrepid, and with a good head, he was equally determined in speech and in deportment, yet with a faultless obedience and loyalty that won the confidence and esteem of his chief. With a strict eye to discipline, he possessed also a kind, humane disposition, which gained the love and respect of his men, whose comfort he studied far more than his own. In Plain in dress, and modest in manner and aspiration, he was free from the greed which tainted so many around him. A soldier in all qualities of the heart and mind, he was also physically fitted for one. battle he was as wrathful and as beautiful as Apollo when he slew the Python. The robust frame, with its high chest and broad shoulders, supported a full face adorned with short, curly, nut-brown hair. The powerful voice, inclining at times to a lisp, was exhibited more in the issue of brief command than in conversation; for Don Gonzalo was as energetic to act as he was chary of words. The slightly bow-legged limbs indicated an early training for the saddle. Indeed, equestrian exercises were his delight, and his horse Motilla, a chestnut with a white foot and a star on the forehead, is described by Bernal Diaz as the finest he ever saw. Sandoval stands before us not only as an admirable man, but as an ideal officer, in his combined qualities of juvenile ardor and prudence, valor and humanity, modesty of disposition and purity of heart. Cortés spoke of him after his death with feelings of deepest regret, and represented him to the emperor as one of the finest soldiers in the world, fit to command armies.[1]
In Velazquez de Leon we find another admirable officer, who possesses many traits in common with Sandoval. He is described as about four years older than that chivalrous youth, with a well formed, powerful frame, fine chest and shoulders, full face, set in a
- ↑ Bernal Diaz, Hist. Verdad., 240, 246; Clavigero, Storia Mess., iii. 8; Portrait and signature in Carbajal Espinosa, Hist. Mex., ii. 254, 686. Portrait in Zamacois, Hist. Méj., ii. 485, and in Armin, Alte Mex., 217.
