Shootout from 127 years ago still at issue

Two out-of-town gunslingers, who have each killed a large number of men, telegraphed ahead that they were on a train coming to San Antonio to settle a grudge. King Fisher and Ben Thompson probably were the two most desperate and widely known gunmen in Texas (“Shooting in a Theatre,” New York Times, March 13, 1884).

Twenty months before, in 1882, Thompson had killed Jack Harris, the owner of the Vaudeville Theater, in a feud about heavy gambling losses. Afterward, he publicly stated he still wanted to kill card dealer Joe Foster, now operating the theater with a partner, Billy Simms.

The wired warning from the train, addressed to Simms, was taken very seriously by the San Antonio police. The police officer whose beat was the Vaudeville Theater was my great-grandfather, Jacobo Coy, also known as Jacob, or Jake.

Grandpa Jake, as my mother called him, was the hardworking husband and father of seven children in 1884. The oldest was my grandmother, Carrie Coy, who was 14.

Jacobo’s brother Antonio was a Texas Ranger. Another brother, Andres, also was a uniformed San Antonio police officer. Their father, Trinidad, had been a mounted volunteer reporting to Col. Travis during the Texas Revolution. Trinidad, Antonio and Jacob all had served in the Texas Confederate cavalry.

A United States Marshal, who had been a passenger on the same train, hurried to the Vaudeville Theater to report on Thompson’s arrival and his liquored-up condition, warning Officer Coy of the imminent danger (“Texas Pistoleers: the True Story of Ben Thompson and King Fisher,” G.R. Williamson, The History Press, 2010, p. 166).

Grandpa Jake told the family that his supervisor, the police captain, directed him to not report on duty that night, as they foresaw guaranteed bloodshed, and pointed out he could not in good conscience send the father of seven children up against two of the fastest guns in Texas.

Grandpa said he had to man his normal duty station or he would be known on the streets as a coward who could never work again as a peace officer.

The captain further directed nothing could be done until Ben Thompson made his play. Billy Simms, the saloon operator, rushed to a local judge for some kind of legal action that he could take to protect himself. The judge’s advice was to buy a shotgun (Williamson, p. 166).

By nightfall, Thompson and Fisher had continued drinking together.

The expected fight in the Vaudeville Theater saloon began when Thompson drew his pistol. Grandpa Jake was close enough to grab it by the cylinder, rendering it unable to fire. Their struggle for control of Thompson’s weapon resulted in Grandpa being shot in the leg. Other San Antonio police officers positioned undercover began firing, resulting in the death of both Thompson and Fisher.

These police actions were ruled justifiable self-defense by a San Antonio coroner’s jury the next day. Grandpa Jake never fully recovered from this service injury but later rose to the rank of captain in the San Antonio Police Department.

Through the years, my family has never written publicly of Grandpa Jake’s involvement in this event. Two men were arrested after the gunfight, presumably sent to assassinate Grandpa in retaliation.

My grandmother told us her father had to leave and stay in Mexico for a while until all the excitement cooled down, leaving her to help her pregnant mother with the younger siblings. This story was often told to me as a family secret. The fear of retaliation by Thompson and Fisher sympathizers lingered for decades.

This event has been rehashed by countless writers of wild-west lore, glamorizing Thompson and Fisher as two of the most widely known trigger men in Texas. Sensationalizing this event of 127 years ago has become a cottage industry for selling books and magazines.

In 1984, I saw it represented in the Wax Museum at the Texas State Fair in Dallas. Every few years, an article appears based on accounts appearing in the Austin American-Statesman during 1884 from the viewpoint of admirers of Thompson and Fisher. A column on this event quoting a relative of Fisher’s appeared in The Galveston County Daily News only a few years ago.

Why do I tell this story today? Those previous authors were not from the San Antonio Coy family. Relatives, not direct descendants of Grandpa Jake, are working to publish an account repeating the slanted story yet again as two murders.

Under today’s justice system standards, a scenario in which known gunmen from outside the county send a warning of murderous intentions ahead and enter a peaceful city to return to the scene of a previous killing certainly would compel local law enforcement to take up defensive positions. Today, it’s called Homeland Security.

Katherine Thatcher is the great-granddaughter of Jose Jacobo Coy. She lives in Galveston.