Tiburcio Vasquez (1839-1875) was the last of the Mexican banditos to terrorize California in the 1870s and
80s. Along with fellow bandit leaders, Joaquin Murrieta and Juan Flores, Vasquez represents the turbulent
and often violent era after the United States took California from Mexico. Displaced Californios needed
an avenger to act out a response to their helplessness and outrage. Anglos found a dangerous but gallant
symbol of a society that they were destined to "civilize." Ironically, in the end, Vasquez was
romanticized by both; a tragic hero and worthy but doomed arch enemy.
Born in Monterey to a respected family, Vasquez was schooled and could speak, read and write English and
Spanish. However, his life changed when, at 14, he participated in a murder and stole a horse. Convicted,
he spent several years at San Quentin Prison. Upon his release, he went back to his life of crime -
starting his own gang of desperados and terrorizing the countryside.
When he was finally captured (in what is now known as Hollywood, California), his jail cell became a major
tourist draw for thousands of people. Women professing their love
arrived daily bearing gifts flowers and money for his defense. Men, including politicos and law enforcement
officers, brought bottles of whiskey to share with Vasquez. Vasquez was charming to all, posing for
photographs and giving out autographs. A few lucky women might hear him recite one of his poems
(click to read one).
Convicted of two murders, he was sentenced to death. While rumors spread that the Mexican government was
sending troops to his rescue, admiring crowds gathered to watch Vasquez's life come to a conclusion at the
end of a rope. Vasquez's only sign of nerves was when he told the hangman, "Pronto" (be quick). The trap
door dropped under his feet and his neck snapped.
That was the end of Tiburcio Vasquez. After the execution he was taken to Santa Clara, where his body lay
in state for several days in the home of his cousin, Mrs. Guadalupe Bee. She told of hundreds of red-eyed men
and crying women arriving at all hours, wanting to pay their last respects.
His sister, Maria, was obsessed with the fear that graverobbers would cut off his head and use it for
exhibitions the way Joaquin Murietta's head had been used. She guarded the grave night and day for nearly
a week. Finally public officials opened the grave to reassure her that the body was safe. Since then
Vasquez's corpse has been allowed to rest peacefully in the Catholic Cemetery at Santa Clara, Calif.
"His self-possession was supreme," one observer wrote in admiration. He died "a man and a Californian."
