From my observation of his character, I should not have called him a brave man. He was very vain, very fond of being admired, and often to gain the applause of his own men, would assume an air of bravado; and doubtless the same love of admiration would have led him into daring acts; but he talked too much of his valor, to impress me with any strong belief in it. He doubtless had the animal courage which belongs to an uneducated man, and one brought up in the profession of arms; but I am convinced that in any situation calling for self reliance and presence of mind, his boasted courage would have failed him. But I am giving now rather the conclusions I drew from all I ever knew of him, than any opinion I could form at this time. Cambiaso was a young man, not more than twenty-five or six years of age; in person, rather thin than stout, and of not more than middle size. He was vain of his beauty, and fond of ornaments. The day after my capture, he sent word to me that he wanted my watch and chain. I handed them to the officer who brought the message. The watch I never saw again; but the chain I sometimes recognized among the ornaments on Cambiaso’s person. Indeed, it was no uncommon thing for me to recognize my own pistols, cutlasses, and so forth, carried by the officers and guards who surrounded me. And I am conscious of a singular feeling of indignation,--or, to use a more accurate word, of impatience--which would cross my mind whenever I reflected that I might at any moment receive my death-wound from a stroke or a shot from one of my own weapons. At this time I was destitute of even a change of clothing; my trunks, with those of all my passengers, being left on board the Florida, and soon broken open and rifled of their contents, by Cambiaso and his men. In my conversations with Cambiaso, which now occurred very frequently, I often begged permission to go on board my vessel, and be under guard there, knowing that some of his followers, with their wives, were living on board the Florida; but his answer constantly was, “No: I am making up my mind what to do with you all.” At times he would threaten to shoot us at once; this was when he was made angry by reports of the trouble which the care of us gave. These threats were reported to me by the Chilian prisoners; but during his conversations with me, he never broke out into violent expressions, but seemed rather to keep a control over himself, as if to impress me with a sense of his self command.