The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1893-06-17
VASQUEZ DIED GAME.
4 Bandits Equanimity and Quiet Nerve OF
Meeting Death.


other evening, waiting for the Southern
Pacific train to Los Angeles. The train
was belated four hours bAa wasnout on
the Colorado desert, forty miles below
here, and the ranchmen had plenty of
time to tell stories as they smoked their
pipes and cigars. a majority of them
had been on the plains in the west for
over twenty years, and some had come
overland in the days of OK teams and
buffaloes. Louis Phillips, who owns
almost as much property in Los Ange-
who is famous throughout California
for his wealth and plain, common mode
of life, told the most interesting remi-
niscence Of the evening.
Il have seen at different times in my
thirty years of life in California, Ari-
IONA and New Mexico over forty men
hanged and shot for all manner of
crimes. l have taken part in the exc
cution of about twenty of the most
ruthless bandits we ever had on the
coast, and l have seen several men
dropped in the same room with me by
an assassin and outlaw, but the most
reInarka BILE villain, and the least moved
man that l ever saw or heard of in the
presence of death was Tiburcio Vas
quez.
..Nasquez was a Mexican of good
family, but he was as bloody and bold
brigand as was ever pursued in Arr
zona. His field of operations for ten
or fifteen years was all the way from
o.
band was known all over the coast in
1865 and 1870. Part of his gang was
<lynched at Phoenix in 1871, and two of
the bandits then confessed that they
had taken the lives of over eighty men
and boys on the coast and along the
Rio Grande in the course of five or six
years They did not know how many
other men had been slaughtered by
Vasquez and his fellows before they
knew the chief bandit. At last Vas
quez was caught and held so securely
that he could not escape trial and sem
tence of death. 1t was in 1875 that he
was confined in the jail at San Jose.
and as | knew Sheriff Adams well |
went to see Vasguez, of whom many
time had been in terror. As |, In the
company of several ranchmen, went
into the jail corridor. Vasouez was Let
out of his cell to meet US. He was
dapper little fellow, with bright,
laughing eyes, and we could not be-
1ieve for time that he was really the
famous bandit. He had just been writ
ing his last letter. and came forth nod
ding pleasantly to his visitors. Each
of us handed him cigar. i thank
YOU, gentlemen he said, but | am
afraid that l won't have time to smoke
all these
''He was so polite that he would not
be seated until all of us had chairs.
He gossiped about the latest news
from San Francisco, about the political
troubles in Mexico and Central Ameri-
ca. and was the most cheerful man on
the premises He told me that he had
heard of me many times, and said he
| believed he once had got hold Of a
! horse with my brand upon him, and
! that it was fine animal.
LAS he stood there, one hand on the
arm of his chair, the newspaper in the
| other, and showing a courteous inter
est in the efforts of the busting dep
uty to find seats for his guests, he was
far from formidable in appearance.
| He was now but short, broad-shoul-
dered, dark-skinned, pleasant-faced
Mexican, with nothing whatever about
him forbidding. Indeed, his manner
was engaging. The fellow was gen
tleman. He showed it not only in his
| ~, Int IN, hc orc WI
which he faced his dreadful end
81 would rather talk about some
thing else, if it is agreeable to you,
gentlemen he said to reporter who
had Joined us, and began business at
once by asking Vasquez about his men
tai condition. i am to be hanged to-
morrow Very well. 1 don't like it,
but ! have no choice. SeeY And he
shrugged his shoulders and smiled.
"'Do you feel that you deserve your
fate? solemnlv asked the reporter.
Well, that does not much matter,
he answered, lighting cigar. While
l never killed anybody myself. l per-
mitted my men to do SO, and in the eye
of the law that is the same thing: so
suppose | deserve what is going to hap
pen. Since cannot help myself | ar
! content VIII you pardon me. gentle
men, if | ask you to talk about some
thing else than myself. am glad t
see YOU; I hike company. The weather
is pleasant, EN-?
He leaned back in his rude chair
with an animated countenance, ready
to chat. like one who wished to while
away dragging hours. He had about
fourteen of them left. The mans face
was strong and firm. He was IN thu
prime of life and in perfect health. III:
) courage had been proved IN many
bloody fight, and if by numbering al
his visitors il would have given hin
one chance in a thousand Of escap pc
. that chance would have been taken
| and God thanked for it. As it was, HI
smiled cordially and accepted the inev
liable with manly colnposure. His po
likeness was inexhaustible. The edito
of one of the local newspa per
came in, greeting him with
boisterous hilarity. meant at one
to cheer the condemned ant
display to the metropolitan journalist
his superior intimacy with a celebrated
character The editor actually took
copy of his paper from his pocket and
with the remark, I suppose you wan
TO hear what said about ron tonight
sat down and read to Nasquez tire
solid columns about his crimes, III
preparation for the hanging and min
ute description OF the gaIoYys, WIT
! mention OF the other criminals WI
had stepped upon It Nasquez bore
IN silence. without a vince or froyyr