Rich Coffey

Down in the southwestern part of the county Rich Coffee settled in 1862, on Elm Creek. With Mr. Coffee from Parker County, came also Bob and Henry Meeks, Bob Guest, Uncle Billy Gordon, and Mack McCarty. A few years later they moved on into the valley of the Concho and established ranch headquarters near its junction with the Colorado. There they built a picket fort, all the houses were joined together and all enclosed by pickets made from the poles they cut from the river bottom. Many stories are told by the Rangers of the aid they never failed to receive from "Uncle Rich" when in trouble. Mr. Coffee had to keep enough men on the ranch at all times to guard the stock and houses. Mr. Coffee died in 1897, but his son, Fogg Coffee, still lives on the old ranch near the mouth of the Concho. He gives a few outstanding events in the early life of his father in Coleman County.

He tells how they had to go to the salt wells of West Texas to get salt for his cattle and made twenty-one trips over the trackless desert a distance of at least two hundred miles with ox teams and heavy wagons. On almost every trip some man of the party was killed by Indians and had to be buried in the desert sand.

Mrs. Coffee told how she remembered hearing Aunt Sallie, mother of Fogg, tell about how they had to be always on the lookout for Indians. She said that once when her husband had to be away for a few days she kept a pot of soap boiling for three days ready to throw on the Indians if they came.

In 1875 the Indians killed Burl Brown, who lived on the head of Elm Creek. In 1871, Mr. Coffee lost 1020 head of cattle and 54 saddle horses, practically his entire herd, in an all day fight with the Indians. The herd was all rounded up and started to market. John, an older son, was in charge. They reached the crossing on the river about sunrise (This river crossing is now known as the old "Trapp Crossing." The foundation of a building which was once the Trapp saloon is still there. Over the hill about a mile is the "Boot Hill Cemetery" where men who died with their boots on" were buried. Seventy-five men were "planted" there during the days when the saloon was flourishing on the old cattle trail), and had just gotten the cattle strung out to cross when up jumped a large band of Indians from the other side of the river and headed straight into them, yelling and shooting. Two of the cowboys, Napoleon Lemons and Dan Arnold from Bluffton, were killed. John Coffee jumped off his horse and ran and hid under a bluff in the bank and was kept there nearly all day. Finally, late in the afternoon, he managed to get up enough courage to come out and go on home. He met some of his family out hunting for him. The Indians got entirely away with the herd.

-Beatrice Grady Gay, Into the Setting Sun: A History of Coleman County, 1936

Pioneering In the Concho Country

The Coffey family was one of the most colorful in West Texas, and the name is still remembered with a smile by many Runnels, Concho, and Coleman County residents. "Uncle Rich" and Sara Coffey were well known among the early settlers of this area, and many of the adventures of them and their family are among the most exciting told by these settlers. Many articles have been written about the Coffeys, and the information for this paper has been collected from articles or from people who knew them personally, or whose parents remembered them. Room for error exists, but most information not confirmed by at least two sources has not been used.

Rich Coffey was a native of Georgia, where he was born February 14, 1823. Both of his parents had come from Tennessee. He grew to manhood in Georgia and married Sarah Greathouse, commonly called Sallie, on October 5, 1849. About 1855 they moved to Texas, settling in Parker County. Here, their first son, John Wright Coffey, was born on June 21, 1856. Two daughters had already been born to them. Rich was engaged in cattle raising and also did some freighting. He served under Captain Lawrence Sullivan Ross as a citizen soldier and aided in the rescue of Cynthia Ann Parker on December 18, 1860.

In 1862 Rich Coffey boldly moved his family and cattle west and established Pickettsville, the first settlement in Runnels County, near the present site of Ballinger on Elm Creek. M. L. Johnson, in his Trail Blazing, states that in the summer of 1862, he remembers driving about 700 head of cattle "into the pens at old Picketville," which he states was "merely a picket house and fence on the Colorado River near where Ballinger now stands." The name "Pickettville" came from the use of pickets cut from trees along the river to construct the enclosure. Buffaloes were plentiful, so their hides were used to cover the crude dugout homes. Along with Coffey came a number of his cowboys and their families including Nathaniel Guest, Bob and Henry Meeks, Jim Beddo, and Jack McCarthy.

Indians were numerous and were beginning to "borrow" cattle from the settlers. Trouble was brewing, and in the midst of it all Rich was about to become a father again. So he took his wife back to Weatherford and safety where on March 6, 1863, his youngest son, Fog, was born.

Rich Coffey was a large man, about six feet tall, and weighed well over 200 pounds. From pictures taken of him in his later years, it is evident that he had an unusually large frame with a thick chest and muscular shoulders. His dress before the Civil War period and just following was extremely colorful, but hardly so in the modern sense of the word. He wore a heavy buffalo robe, Indian style, with a cape to pull over his head and a buffalo tail attached to the top for decoration. After the Civil War he adopted a more civilized costume — bearskins.

On one occasion, Coffey was making a trip to Weatherford for supplies when he stopped by a little log church near Dublin, Texas. The congregation was surprised to see a large man dressed in bearskins appear and take a seat among the believers. His long, uncut hair and bearskin clothing made him look more like an animal than a human being. Animals are said to have no emotions, but as the stranger listened intently to the sermon, he was obviously touched, tears flowed down his checks. Before the sermon was over, his shoulders began to shake, and finally the congregation could hear sobs coming from the bear-like man. After the service the stranger introduced himself to Reverend John R. Northcutt, the minister. Rich Coffey, as a boy back in Georgia, had known Northcutt but had not seen him for many years. While passing through the area, he heard of a Baptist minister named Northcutt and had turned aside to see if this could be his old neighbor from Georgia. Tears of friendship often come from a big heart, and "Uncle Rich" had heart to spare.

After the birth of his youngest son, and sometime between 1865 and 1869, Rich Coffey moved his family to the mouth of the Concho River where it meets the Colorado, and established what was to become the Flat Top Ranch, or "Coffey Settlement." The ranch house was within two miles of what some scholars believe is the remains of the San Clemente Mission, established in 1664 by the Spaniards Mendoza and Lopez. It is probable, however, that neither the Coffeys nor any of the early pioneers of the area knew that the mission existed. In any case, in 1868 J. M. Hallcomb remembered that "...quite a number of families were 'forted up' at a place known in those days as Flat Top. Among those families I remember the names Rich Coffey, the Guest Brothers, Beddo Brothers, and Carden Brothers..."

The 1870 census of Coleman County showed that John Cook, a sixty-year-old stone cutter from Ireland, lived at the Coffey Ranch for a time. It is likely that this man was responsible for building part of the Coffee home which still stands today. Like many frontier homes, the house has had three stages of construction, and consists of two separate two-story rock buildings, separated by a breeze-way.

James T. Padgitt noted that when Colonel William H. Day arrived at his newly bought ranch of 22,000 acres in Coleman County, he found Rich and his family living at Flat Top Ranch.

The frontier home of the Coffeys became a welcome haven to many a weary traveler. Many travelers made their way to the Coffey home as they journeyed up the Colorado River, then west up the Concho toward the post called Fort Concho. Since the ranch house was situated at the junction of the two rivers, it was at a cross-road, north, west, and south. Many stories are told by the Texas Rangers of the aid they never failed to receive from "Uncle Rich" when in trouble. Mrs. Fog Coffey related a story about a skirmish between the Texas Rangers and some Indians in which a ranger was mortally wounded. Snow was falling, which kept the Indians from finding and killing the remainder of the lawmen. The following morning, the Rangers carried the body to the nearby Coffey home. Rich tore some boards from his own lean-tos in order to make a rude coffin so that the Ranger might be buried properly. The grave was dug, and the Ranger was buried near the Coffey home.

The customary greeting of Rich to a visitor, whether he be a stranger or a friend, was "Git down and go to stayin'!" Sometimes as many as 27 travelers dropped by at a time, but there was somehow always plenty to eat and places to sleep. He never charged anyone a penny, and refused to accept payment when it was offered. A statement that developed describing Rich's generous hospitality said, "His door was always open, his hand was ever ready, and the light in the window never grew dim." No one knows who first worded that phrase, but it accurately describes the hospitality that was never lacking at the Coffey home whether the times were good or bad.

F. S. Millard recalled working for Ike Franks on 100 acres of farm land that was leased from Rich Coffey. Frank's little girl became seriously ill, causing him to have to leave Millard with all the plowing for several weeks. Millard had to work one team of mules hard from daylight to noon, and another team from noon to dark; and still he couldn't keep up with his overload of work. Word got to "Uncle Rich" about the girl's illness and Millard's predicament. One day Rich rode up to Millard who had stopped for a short rest at noon.

Rich said, "...they tell me you plow a team too hard, and I don't want my mules worked that way." Millard, almost exhausted, began to tell how he was trying to take up the slack caused by the illness, but Rich cut him off short and said to "turn my mules loose." Dejected, the man walked home, but returned the next morning to find the entire field neatly plowed. No one at the Coffey home could imagine how the field got plowed, but Millard was sure that it was Rich's doings.

The constant danger of Indian raids made it necessary to keep alert at all times, especially during one certain time of the month known as "the light of the moon," when the Comanches usually made their invasions.

Mrs. Coffey and her daughters were often left by themselves at the ranch when the men and hired hands were away working cattle. Sallie had a small log cabin a few hundred yards from the house near the bank of the river, where she made the family's lye soap, or hung meat to be dried. On one occasion, she was building a fire under her kettle inside the cabin for soap-making when she noticed a band of Indians cross the river to her side. She sent a daughter to the ranch house to warn the children to go inside and bar the doors. Mrs. Coffey bravely remained behind, knowing that she and the children were alone at the ranch, and it would be up to her to distract the Indians as long as possible from the ranch house. She assumed that the Indians had come for horses, and seeing no men around, decided, to make a daring daylight raid. As the Indians rode nearer, she threw more wood on the fire, then waved her arms to make sure they saw her and were attracted to her rather than to the house. Indeed the Indians saw her and advanced at a high lope, by now certain no men folk were around. Mrs. Coffey rushed into the small hut and barred the stout wooden door just as the Indians converged on the hut and dismounted. Perhaps the savages were simply astounded by Mrs. Coffey's rash behavior and were curious. In any case, the Indians surrounded the hut and Sallie was trapped inside with a boiling kettle of lye water. The only opening in the hut was a small square window in the door. At last, an Indian ventured up to the small window, and for a moment, as he peered inside, exposed his entire face in the frame of the window. Mrs. Coffey calmly took a dipper of the boiling lye water and flung it squarely into the face of the invader. The Indians immediately retreated with their unfortunate comrad yelling and screaming in pain.

One day, when Rich was out alone in the fields, plowing his corn with a mule, the mule picked up the scent of Indians and bolted toward the house, leaving Rich behind, unaware of any trouble. But soon Rich caught sight of the Indians and started for the house in no less of a rush than the mule. Whoops of the Indians did much to speed both the mule and his owner along on their retreat. The yells, along with the clatter of the mule running and kicking at the plow — or what was left of it — caused Sallie to look up from her work in time to see an unusual and frightening sight: half running, and half kicking at the harness, the work mule was making for the house, snorting and creating clouds of dust. Close behind the mule, and gaining, came Rich, and right behind him, and gaining, came the Indians. Sallie ran to the door of the house, turned and shouted, "Run, Rich, Run!"

Rich passed the mule, which was becoming more and more hampered with the tangled plow lines, and at a frantic pace covered the last few hundred feet to the house and safety. He burst through the door which Sallie then barred behind him. After he recovered part of his breath, in gentle sarcasm, which most husbands learn to use, he gasped, "Sweet, you didn't think I would lay down on a race like that, did you?"

Incidents with the Comanches of this period in the early 1870's were numerous, but perhaps the most famous story dealing with one of these scrapes was published in the New York Clipper in 1873. Colonel Lewis Ginger and his Pioneer Minstrels stopped at the Coffey Ranch on their way to Fort Concho. Colonel Ginger himself said in the article that he had organized the Pioneer Minstrels which made a tour of the frontier military posts, playing for the soldiers. He relates that on this remarkable trip, he and his group were on their way to Fort Concho, which he stated "was 150 miles beyond any civilization." They arrived at the Coffey Ranch where they were welcomed by Uncle Rich and the Coffey family. The ranch appeared to be prosperous, and the buildings were heavily stockaded against Indian attacks. The Colorado River was densely wooded at the mouth of the Concho, and was the home of wild deer, turkey, and occasionally panthers and black bears. The entire group of visitors stayed at the ranch for a few days to relax, but the event they were about to experience was anything but relaxing.

On one of these evenings, Rich suggested to the Colonel that they gather up some fishing gear and venture down to a place in the river where the channel cat usually fed. Leaving the ranch house, Colonel Ginger and Rich walked a half-mile in moonlight that was so bright that their path to the river was almost as clear as it would have been in daytime. Ginger remembered "Uncle Rich" commenting that the channel cat bite fine in the moonlight. The two men soon neared the mouth of the Concho River, and Rich said, "Here, Son, is a fine place where we can get all the fish we want in no time."

The only sound was the rushing water, and Rich settled back against a tree and began to tell the colonel about how he and his sons had built up a herd, cleared the land, and had defended the land from several Indian attacks. Colonel Ginger was fascinated by the numerous encounters in which the Coffeys had narrowly escaped death. Rich was engaged in telling one of these stories when he stopped and listened. An owl had just hooted in answer to another owl on the opposite side of the river. Rich whispered, "Son, did you here them?"

The colonel calmly asked, "Do you mean those owls?"

"Son, them's no owls. They're Injuns." He then grabbed the colonel's sleeve and whispered, "Let's get out of here." Colonel Ginger had never seen an Indian, but he had heard owls, and these owls sounded harmless enough. But Rich was already making for the nearest trees, seeing that he and the colonel were in a vulnerable position, standing in the bright moonlight surrounded by Indians on three sides. Ginger, on his way to follow Coffey, was not in the least alarmed, and said that he would pick up the fish they had caught. Rich, in no Sunday school terms, said that if the colonel had any serious intention of remaining alive, he would damn the fish and run for it. By this time there were hoots on both sides of the river and Rich was leading the way to the house in a frantic run. Ginger recalled that he ran to keep up, but was not yet convinced that there was any real danger. As the sprinters made their way out of the river bottom and headed up the slope toward the house, they came through a clearing that was brightly illuminated by moonlight. An arrow whizzed between the two men, accompanied by other shots that came awfully close to finding their mark. This was indeed more than enough motivation to convince the colonel that the desperate run would be good for maintaining his health.

Upon their arrival, the Coffey family and hired hands swung into action in preparing for another fight with the Indians — a practice that was almost routine with them in those days. The Pioneer Minstrels were not much help in preparing for the attack. Paralyzed with fright, they huddled under tables or remained hidden behind whatever they could find. Soon, some thirty warriors appeared at the mouth of the Concho on the opposite side of the Colorado from the house. They shouted for awhile, then disappeared into the trees. Rich told the somewhat shaken colonel that it was only a little thieving party out for stealing horses. But Mr. Coffey was quick to add that the little sprint to the house most assuredly had saved their lives.

Colonel Lewis Ginger must have been tremendously impressed with Rich Coffey. For in an account that appeared many years after the original story in the New York Clipper, he stated:

The Coffeys were not always so lucky in their encounters with the Indians. By 1871, they had built up a sizable herd of cattle. Rich had usually sold his steers to Coggins and Parks, or to John Chisum, whose cattle wore the famous Jingle Bob and Long Rail brands. Cattle from both these outfits ranged far and wide over Coleman and Concho Counties. The cattle of Rich Coffey wore the "3+3" brand. On this occasion, Rich decided to let his own cowboys take a heard of 1,020 cattle up what was to become known as the Great Western Cattle Trail. Nathaniel Guest was in charge of the operation. John, the oldest Coffey boy, at the age of fifteen, was a regular cowhand in the crew. Bill, two years younger, wrangled the horse herd of 54 horses. The herd started the journey on June 1, 1871. Many detailed accounts have been written about the Indian battle that occurred only a few miles up the cattle trail. But to summarize the results of the ambush, John Coffey was wounded in the side by a bullet from a rifle. Dan Arnold was shot and killed instantly. Lapoleon Lemmons was captured, tortured, and scalped. Both Arnold and Lemmons were eighteen years old and had run away from their homes in Williamson County just three weeks before the cattle drive. Bill Coffey had been swimming in the creek when the Indians attacked, and had cleverly remained in the water with only his nose above the surface until dark, when he returned to the ranch naked because the Indians had stolen his clothes which he had laid beside the creek. When the rescue party arrived about dark, the Indians had looted and destroyed the cook's wagon, gathered the livestock, taken the scalps of their two victims, and had removed the bodies of their fallen comrads. The rescue party found that the entire crew had managed to escape except Arnold and Lemmons. John Coffey had held off the Indians all afternoon, then had passed out from loss of blood. The negro cook had mounted one of the four mules of the chuck wagon and had ridden toward Coleman, some twenty miles away.

A detachment of cavalry from nearby Fort Concho proved to be too slow to overtake the band of Indians as they made their escape northward. This was a surprising fact in that the Indians were hampered by having to drive some eleven hundred head of livestock. Finally, in the hills near Buffalo Gap, the Indians displayed their skill as cattle thieves. They split the herd into several groups, mixed their tracks with buffalo tracks, and disappeared into the hills. Rich Coffey requested that the army wait until the Indians tried to move the cattle from the hills to their reservation in the north, then recover at least part of the herd. The request was denied because of a shortage of supplies, and the 1,020 head of cattle and 54 horses were never seen by Rich again. He later filed a claim with the government to recover his loss, but never received a penny. A few months later, on Christmas day, the Coffeys stood at their house and watched as a large band of Indians rounded up their remaining cows and horses and drove them away. There were no cowhands available to give chase to the raiders, because the theft of the cattle herd in the spring had put the Coffeys in a financial bind. After the Christmas raid, almost all Rich Coffey had worked for for nine years was gone. To an ordinary man, this would have been a staggering financial blow. But Rich, without a word of self-pity, went to work to regain his losses. He did this by continuing with one of his side trades — freighting.

Mr. Coffey had always been interested in the freighting business. After the disasterous cattle venture, he continued to freight salt in order to make money to rebuild his herd. With six or seven wagons pulled by teams of six to twelve oxen, he made the long dangerous trip across the open plains to the salt lakes in present Crane County. Here he had the wagons loaded with salt and hauled back to barter with trading posts along the route. The remainder was taken to Weatherford, where the year's shopping was done. This trip to Weatherford usually took four to six weeks. Rich's numerous trips to the salt lakes were extremely dangerous. Of twenty-four trips, most of them ended in death for at least one of the freighters due to Indian attacks. But on these trips, Rich met a few famous people, even before the cattle loss.

For instance, in June, 1866, Charles Goodnight and Oliver Loving were blazing a new trail that was to become the Goodnight-Loving Cattle Trail. On one of their return trips from New Mexico, they traveled by night and slept by day to avoid Indians. But a storm caused their pack mule with their supplies to run away. All their food and supplies were lost. So they filled their canteens at Horsehead Crossing, and set out on the long, dangerous ride across the West Texas plains. Without provisions, and with very little water, they were forced to ride day and night across the level plains. About twenty-five miles from the Concho River, they saw what appeared to be dust from an Indian party approaching on the horizon. It was useless to turn back, so the cowboys found a low place and prepared for a battle. When the strange party grew closer, they saw to their relief that it was Rich Coffey on his way to the salt lakes with a big load of watermelons. Rich stopped for a few hours, and everyone ate watermelon in the shade of the wagons. Goodnight later recalled that "Watermelons never tasted as good to me as that day."

A few years later, on another trip to the lake, Rich came across a small group of gold-seekers in distress, who were under the leadership of Jacob Schnively and William C. Dalrymple. The party had been attacked by Indians, and several were wounded. Two of the men, on their way to the Tankersley Ranch on Dove Creek for help, came upon Rich Coffey and his supply wagons. Coffey tended to the wounded, and gave them sufficient supplies for their trip back to the Tankersley Ranch.

Though he had shown generous hospitality to travelers on their way west, there was no one to help pull Rich and his family through the crisis of the stolen cattle for the simple reason that there were no neighbors who had settled close to the Coffey Ranch. This seemed to have not bothered Rich at all. In spite of his willingness to help others, and in spite of his big-hearted hospitality, the thought of neighbors bothered him. A true frontiersman, he often stated that he didn't want to hear his neighbor's rooster crow. On one occasion, a nester moved in between the Coffey Ranch and Coleman. Rich asked the county judge to have the man removed. The judge stated that nothing could be done. To this Rich replied, "I don't mind neighbors, but not in my front yard!" The nester's house was some fifteen miles away!"

During the 1880's the counties in this area were experiencing turmoil and even bloodshed due to the new barbed wire fence building and fence cutting. Mrs. Mabel Day's Ranch, which lay south of the Coffey Ranch, was to be one of the worst trouble spots in the state due to the clash between the ranchers and fence cutters. After fencing came about, the ranchers were obliged to fence in their lands in order to protect their range. Rich did this, and never purchased any property other than that on which he settled. As the years passed, he recovered from his loss, though he never became wealthy. His youngest son, Fog, became one of the best-known characters of the area. Fog's adventures are rash and colorful, and he became perhaps as well-known as Rich, though this would be another story.

Rich Coffey was also remembered as a good and faithful citizen who could always be called upon to render service to organizations. As towns sprang up and people moved in, Rich did his part as a civic leader. He was a member of the first grand jury in Coleman County when the problem of "gun toting" had to be dealt with. Many of the citizens still carried side arms of some kind, though the practice was beginning to be frowned upon as being uncivilized. A trial period had been enacted by the city of Coleman to stop the carrying of guns inside the town. But the law had not yet been strictly enforced. The judge presented the problem to the jury and asked for suggestions. After a long silence, Rich Coffey spoke up and said, "Gentlemen of the jury, I...move that every man on this jury that has a gun under his coat or in his boot leg, come forward now and put it on the table. Here is mine." This brought a hearty laugh from the group, but when all the weapons had been counted, it was revealed that over half the jurymen at the very moment were carrying guns! This quickly settled the issue, and the law was not enforced at this time against "gun toters" in Coleman.

In Rich's later years he was remembered chiefly for his devoted work in the Masonic Lodge. He was fifty years old when he petitioned Brownwood Lodge Number 279 for membership. The original petition showed that he had lived on the frontier of Texas for eighteen years. At this time Brownwood was a village consisting mainly of a small store, a blacksmith shop, and an old log courthouse. It was in this old courthouse where the Masonic Lodge met. The members had to climb a wooden ladder to the second floor of the building where the meetings were held. No one was more faithful in attending the Lodge than Rich, though he had to ride horseback or muleback some fifty miles to attend. He was known to have stayed several days in Brownwood when he attended these meetings and visited with other pioneers of the area.

In 1878, Rich became a charter member of the Coleman Masonic Lodge, and was on the committee that secured the first permanent hall for Lodge meetings. In 1885 he became a charter member of Paint Rock Lodge Number 613, where he served faithfully until his death on Feb. 7, 1898. His picture is on display in the Paint Rock Lodge Room.

Perhaps no other man had as much to do with the early frontier along the lower Concho River as did Rich Coffey. His interests in pioneer ranching helped open up this area for settling and commerce, and his friendly outlook caused him to be remembered as a man who would as quickly help his neighbor as himself.

Creed Taylor, an early Texan, perhaps paid the most fitting tribute to Rich Coffey when he said, "...He was one of the bravest of the brave and his hospitality was of the old Texas quality that knew no bounds..."

Today, the Coffey Ranch is deserted. The old, two-story rock house stands like a sentinel upon the high bluff overlooking the mouth of the Concho River. Owls still hoot at night, but the Indians have long since disappeared. The windows of the old house are never brightened now at night. People refuse to live there because — strangely enough — "It's too far from civilization," which is the reason Rich Coffey chose to live there over one hundred years ago.

Bishop Powell, West Texas Historical Association Year Book, Vol. L, 1974