Transcription of newspaper article
published in the Rocky Mountain News, September 20, 1902, Denver,
Colorado.
SHOT BY THUGS AND THROWN BY
THE ROADSIDE TO DIE IN AGONY
FRIGHTFUL ASSAULT
UPON A RANCHMAN
Defenseless Farmer Shot, Dragged
and Kicked, Then Left In a
Ditch to Die
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Frederick Thompson has a chance for recovery. The delicate scales
just balance: he clings to life by a thread .. so slender a
breath might sever it. That he should for a day survive his
experience with ruffian holdups Thursday Night is a marvel
bordering on the miraculous. Attacked by two armed men, shot from
behind, dragged from his wagon to a ditch, brutally clubbed and
kicked each step, and finally robbed and thrown into a ditch
containing half a foot of water, while he was fired upon a dozen
times, he yet summoned strength to drive nearly seven miles
before, breathless, bruised and bleeding, he swooned in the arms
of the blue eyed girl wife who sat at the ranch home eagerly
awaiting his return.
If Frederick had known the meaning of fear, his brutal assault
and probably murder would never have occurred. When two armed and
masked ruffians sprang on either side of his wagon, pointing each
a gun at his head, and one of them cried, "Throw up your
hands!" Thompson's ready reply was, "I guess I don't
know that it's necessary," and he accompanied his words with
a stinging back hand blow in the face of his right hand
assailant. That was pluck. Thompson's blow was against
impossible, overwhelming odds.
With body perforated with bullets, and head and face beaten
almost to a jelly, bleeding from twenty wounds at every _________
_____________ (words not readable) and expectorating blood from
within almost in a stream, he drove all the weary, stretching,
paind-mad miles to his home, and believing himself to be dying,
bade her 'he' loved good-bye.
"Nan, oh Nan," he called at the gate, "Nan, I'm
shot." And then, in answer to the eager questionings of
where, he answered, weakly, "Oh, everywhere." Carried
to the light in his room, he sank into his wife's arms: "I'm
going, Nan," he whispered, kissing her again and again.
"I -- I -- knew they had killed me, Nan; but I wanted so to
see you and the boy, Nan. I -- I-- just lived, Nan, to say -- to
say, good-bye."
Breath failed him. Prostrate from loss of blood which still
spurted from a dozen wounds, and wet and cold with the water, mud
and slime of the foul ditch into which he had been thrown, the
exhaused man lay on his wife's bosom and waited for life to come
back in one sustaining breath. He was at that moment, while she
kissed - his - forehead - and smoothed the clotted, tangled hair,
that life's pendulum swung lowest.
Returning From Denver
Frederick Thompson, aged 27 years, lives on the ranch that was
once his father's, twelve miles west of Denver, between Semper
and Broomfield. He had been to Denver with two loads of hay. His
brother-in-law and hired hand, Frank Meickel, had preceded him
home with one wagon, by several hours. Thompson's parents, Mr.
and Mrs. William Thompson, Sr., live at Harris, five miles west
of Denver. Thompson stopped there at 8:15 o'clock Thursday night,
and his mother came out to speak to him. His purse he had
secreted in the wagon, and he brought this out to give his mother
some money. As she clasped it in a thin, trembling hand he saw
two men pass by, walking apart on either side of the road. One
seemed slender and quite young. The other was taller and stouter.
Thompson put his purse in his pocket and drove on toward the
ranch home, seven miles distant.
Boarded the Wagon
When near the ditch opposite Maham's young orchard, and half a
mile from his Mother's home, the men he had seen passing him
before, masked now, and each holding a revolver in hand, sprang
upon the wagon on either side of him, the youngish one called to
him to throw up his hands. "I guess I don't know that it's
necessary," replied Thompson, dealing the assailant to his
right a back hand blow. With that the youngster shot him from
behind. The bullet ranged through the left side. Two other shots
followed in quick succession. Then ruffian hands were laid upon
him, and they dragged him, face down, across the road and over
yards thick studded with cockleburs, to the brink of the cold,
slimy ditch.
"Take my money, take everything, but spare my life," he
pleaded.
"Kill the ----- ------ ------- ------," cried one, and
at that began an assault altogether inhuman and brutal beyond the
measure of words.
Shot at Twelve Times
Blow after blow and kick upon kick were raised on head, face and
body. Robbed then and thrown into the dirty ditch, he was not
left to unconscious misery without a devilish and cowardly
attempt to destroy him. Standing on the bank with their victim
just beneath them, they fired twelve shots at him, bespattering
him with mud and water, perforating his clothing and grazing his
flesh but for all that, not one bullet found a vital mark, not
one stung its way to the seat of life. His face was set with
blood that streamed from wounds where the burrs pricked and
stripped the flesh, where rough heels had gashed and in the right
temple a bullet had cut the flesh and grazed the bone.
Lay in the Ditch
Wracked with pain and stunned by shots and blows and loss of
blood he swooned there in the ditch's dark waters. Reviving, he
lifted himself, but seeing his team, he mistook it for the men
and crouched low again the ditch's mire. Finally he recognized
his team and dragged himself to where faithful old Kate and
Polly, his beautiful grays, stood patiently waiting, he mounted
his wagon and began the homeward drive. His money was gone, but a
gold watch he carried had not been molested. Behind his wagon he
had been leading a bay mare, his buggy horse. She was gone. Next
morning Frank Meickel found the mare's harness and Thompson's hat
by the roadside.
Thompson's drive in the night is indescribable. It seemed years
to him before he reached the hill top and saw the welcome gleam
of light across the alfalfa fields streaming from a window of his
home. "If I can live to tell Nan goodbye!" That was his
soul conscious thought. His opening the field and house gates
seems a miracle. At the first he fainted; then recovering
consciousness crawled on hands and knees to it.
At the second he supported himself, by the harness of the lead
horse. "Nan" he called, "Nan, oh, Nan, I'm
shot."
An Agony of Suspense
George Meickle, Mrs. Thompson's father, who lives ten miles north
of the Thompson place, had arrived that evening. Meickel, his son
Frank and Mrs. Thompson soon had Thompson in a clean bed and in
dry clothes. They stanched the flowing blood, waiting eagerly for
the wounded man to catch his breath. Mrs. Thompson was in an
agony of suspence as her husband struggled for life. In her ears
rang his pitiful words when he thought himself dying. "Nan,
I'm dying, dear. I -- I -- just wanted to live to see you and the
boy again. Just to get here, Nan, and tell you goodbye."
At Broomfield lives Mrs. Mary Wright, Mrs. Thompson's aunt. In
her residence is a phone. They rang for Dr. Horace Robert Burns
and his assistant, Dr. Lion, at Louisville. By 2:30 a.m. the
physicians had arrived. At 5 a.m. one 38-caliber bullet had been
removed from Thompson's stomac, his flesh wounds had been dressed
and he was resting unaccountably well. Yesterday afternoon he was
actually raised to a sitting posture in which he seemed more
comforable. However, the expectoration of blood is serious. His
case is uncertain. His chances seem even. Nothing has been of the
stolen mare. Probably the ruffians returned straight to Denver
and sent the mare far away as a decoy. They got $75.00. Thompson
and his wife were raised within a few miles of each other and
have been sweethearts many years. They have been married since
mere children. Mr. Thompson's parents gave him the old homestead
and took his smaller place at Harris.
Thompson has two brothers in Denver, Thomas Thompson, Jr., a
restaurateur on Colfax avenue, and William Thompson, real estate,
1713 Seventeenth street.
To the Scene in an Auto
Aboard a Winton automobile car of latest fashion and great speed,
with Webb Jay as conductor, a News representative and a News
artist took a thrilling ride to the scene of the holdup and to
Thompson's home. Taking a circuitous route in going they covered
the distance of fifteen miles in a half hour.
In two instances a half mile was made in twenty-five seconds.
Three times they made a mile in a minute and ten seconds. Once
they actually ran away from a swift moving Colorado and Southern
passenger.
The Denver police will keep a sharp lookout for the assailants of
the Broomfield ranchman. The affair happened in Jefferson county,
but Chief Armstrong telephoned to the sheriff of that county and
asked for a description of the men.
Pictures accompany article, but the copies are of quite poor
quality.
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Transcription of newspaper article published in the The Denver
Post, September 19, 1902
HOLD-UP SHOT DOWN RANCHMAN ON
THE ROAD NEAR BROOMFIELD -- SHERIFF AND POSSE IN PURSUIT
Fred Thompson Had Sold Two Loads of Hay in Denver and Was on His
Way Home with the Proceeds When Shot in the Back by Robbers --
Little Hope of Recovery -- Three Bullets Fired at Him Before He
Fell From Wagon.
Broomfield, Colo., September 19 - Fred Thompson, a young ranchman
living five and a half miles southeast of Broomfield, was held up
and shot three times by two holdups about 9 o'clock last night on
the Boulevard road, at 11 o'clock this morning Mr. Thompson was
still alive, but the attending physician holds out little hope of
recovery. The holdups escaped.
The shooting and robbery occurred at a point on the Boulevard
road three and a half miles southeast of Broomfield, and Mr.
Thompson had no warning of his danger until he was suddenly
ordered by two men in the roadway to throw up his hands, the
order being reinforced by a rifle and a big revolver in the hands
of the holdups. The ranchman either refused or did not make any
effort to throw up his hands and a second later one of the
holdups, who stepped to the rear of the wagon, aimed his rifle at
Thompson's back and fired, the bullet going clear through the
body. The second holdup fired his revolver almost simultaneously,
the bullet striking the breast bone and dropping into the
abdomen.
The man with the revolver then fired again, this time the bullet
striking the left temple and grazing the scalp. It seems almost
miraculous that this shot did not kill Thompson.
Fell From His Wagon
Thompson fell from the wagon and the horses came to a standstill.
As soon as the ranchman fell to the ground the two hold-ups
seized him and dragged him to one side of the room, where they
beat and kicked him into unconsciousness, after which they rifled
his pockets of $75, unhitched the third horse, which had been
tied to the rear of the hay wagon, mounted the animal and
escaped.
With almost human instinct Thompson's team did not move from the
spot and remained quiet for two hours, at the end of which time
Thompson recovered consciousness. He dragged himself to the wagon
and in some way managed to get in it and started the team
homeward. Thompson then again became unconscious.
The horses arrived home shortly after 11 o'clock and Meikle, the
hired hand, went out to help unharness them. He spoke to
Thompson, but did not receive an answer. Looking into the bottom
of the wagon he saw the still form of his master and then hastily
ran to the house to notify Mrs. Thompson that something had
happened.
Search for Bandits
Meikle and Mrs. Thompson carried the injured ranchman into the
house and put him on the bed, after which the neighboring
ranchmen were aroused and a messenger sent to Broomfield to
notify Mrs. Mary Wright of this place to send for Dr. Burns at
Louisville, who was summoned by telephone. Dr. Burns arrived at
the Thompson ranch at 2:30 this morning and dressed the bullet
wounds and injuries of Thompson and made him as comfortable as
possible. The bullet, which entered the breast, was located and
extracted.
After recovering consciousness under Dr. Burns' attention, Mr.
Thompson said he could not describe his assailants, more than
that one appeared to be young and of medium height and build and
the other seemed to be middle-aged, medium height and quite
stout. The young man carried the revolver and his companions had
the rifle.
Mrs. Thompson, wife of the wounded ranchman, is a niece of Mrs.
Mary Wright of Broomfield, one of the best known residents of
this section of the state. Frank Meikle, the hired man, is a
brother-in-law of Thompson and bears an excellent reputation.
Hold-Ups From Denver
It is generally believed that the two hold-ups came from Denver
and that they had been following Thompson all day, knowing he had
sold his hay and therefore must have more or less money in his
possession. The horse they stole on which to make their escape
was bay mare, weighing between 1,100 and 1,200 pounds. The horse
has a white stripe down its forehead. The hold-ups probably rode
the horse for several miles and then turned it loose, knowing
full well that they could be all the more easily traced if they
kept the animal in their possession. The ranchmen in this
vicinity are thoroughly aroused over the affair and threaten
summary punishment if the robbers are captured.
Mr. Thompson and his hired man, Frank Meikle, left the Thompson
ranch early yesterday morning with two loads of hay, which were
sold for $75.00. The ranchman had three horses and the hired man
two.
After the hay was sold and delivered Thompson remained in Denver
some time to make a few small purchases. Meikle started home with
his team and wagon some time before Thompson and reached the
ranch fully an hour before his employer. Meikle says he did not
see any one on the road and was not molested in any way.
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Transcribed from The Denver Post, Saturday, September 20, 1902
THOMPSON IMPROVING
Ranchman Shot by Holdups Has Chance for Recovery
Broomfield, Colo., Sept 20 -- The condition of Fred Thompson, the
young ranchman who was shot three times and robbed Thursday night
while on his way home from Denver on the Boulevard road, is quite
favorable today and Dr. Burns, the attending physician, now
entertains hopes of recovery. Mr. Thompson is in a serious
condition, but it is believed his strong constitution will pull
him through. Besides the three bullet wounds, his body is covered
with bruises from the beating and kicking he received at the
hands of the hold-ups after being shot.
A careful examination shows that Mr. Thompson was not shot
through the body from the back, but was shot twice in the head
and once in the left side. The balls which struck the head
glanced off and caused only scalp wounds. One came out at the
right side and shot off the top of the right ear.
The bullet which entered the left side struck a rib and did not
reach a vital spot. The ball was been extracted.
As yet no trace of the two hold-ups or the bay mare they escaped
on has been obtained and the officials are as much in the dark as
ever. A sharp lookout is being kept in every part of the county,
however, and it is believed the criminals will sooner or later be
apprehended.
Thompson's two brothers, William and Thomas, who reside in
Denver, visited their brother's ranch last night. Thomas, who is
engaged as a restauranteur at 44 West Colfax, returned early this
morning.
"Fred certainly had a terrible encounter," said Mr.
Thompson, "but, as by a miracle, his injuries will not
likely prove fatal. A large 48-caliber bullet was taken from his
side last night, but the examination showed that his intestines
were not penetrated, and blood poison is the only complication
feared. The wounds on the head are painful but only the scalp and
one ear are injured. His face is swollen double from the brutal
beating and I hardley recognized him when I first saw him.
"He has not the slightest idea who his assailants were, and
his chief bit of identification is their size, one of them being
quite short and another rather tall. He says he thinks the tall
man bears some marks from the encounter, as he was able to get in
several blows before he was beaten and shot into
insensebility"
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Article in The Denver Times, September 19, 1902
Similar type article from the Denver Times is in our possession,
but the copy is quite poor and bearly readable.
Note: There is a picture of Frederick Thompson and wife Agnes
Meikle on their wedding day on page 2 of this issue of the
newspaper. Again, not a real clear picture.
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Transcription of article pulished in the Denver Republican,
September 20, 1902
THOMPSON NOT WOUNDED
SO BADLY AS THOUGHT
Boulder, Colo., Sept 20 -- (Special) A mistake was made in regard
to the shooting of Frederick Thompson near Harris Thursday night.
He was badly kicked about the back and chest, and this no doubt
led to the report that he had been shot in the back. One bullet
grazed the back of the head, another the temple, and the third
struck a rib in the breast. None of the wounds is dangerous.
Unless some unexpected complications set in Thompson will be able
to be out in a few days.
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NOTES
Submitted and Transcribed by Mary
Thompson Saban, granddaughter of Frederick J. Thompson. Despite
the seriousness stated in the first articles, the later articles
do clear that up. He was wounded, shot three times. None of the
wounds was life threatening. The beating he received must have
been far more painful that the bullet wounds. To the best of my
knowledge, the assailants were never caught. Neither the horse
nor the money were ever recovered that I am aware of. It was
however one of the most publicized moments of early Adams County.
Some genealogy notes: Frederick Thompson's father was Thomas
Thompson Sr, and we have found no evidence his name was William
as suggested in one of the above articles.
Mrs. Thompson's maiden name was spelled Meikle. (And she had dark
brown eyes, not blue eyes!)
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