Ash Upson
Events & Genealogy
Born: Marshall Ashmun Upson
Birthdate: November 23, 1828
Birthplace: Waterbury, Connecticut
Marriage: Helena Upson (1851) @Wolcott, Connecticut
Children: None
Death: October 6, 1894
Cause of Death: N/A
Burial: Uvalde Cemetery, Uvalde, Texas.
GhostWriter
by: J. Young
“The legend of Billy the Kid began in the newspapers, Ash Upson set it in stone.”
Marshall Ashmun Upson (Ash) was born on November 23rd, 1828 in Waterbury Township, New Haven or possibly Wolcott, Connecticut to his parents Samuel Wheeler Upson and Sally Maria Stevens. After completing his basic education, Ash began working in New York. During his time in New York, he worked in an office where the famous author Edgar Allan Poe was also employed. Poe and Upson became friends and even lived together briefly. However, due to a sudden illness, Ash had to leave the city and return home to Connecticut. According to at least one report, Ash was married in 1851 at Wolcott, Connecticut to a woman known only as Helena Upson who may have not lived long after the wedding or were separated. Another thought, she may have not existed as I cannot locate any evidence.
Ash journeyed to Ohio a few years later. During his tenure at the Cincinnati Enquirer, Ash traveled to Utah and Colorado with his colleagues. While on his travels, he witnessed vast herds of buffalo in the wild and climbed Pikes Peak in Colorado Springs. He was also drawn to New Mexico’s newly established territories. Upon his return to Cincinnati, Ash decided to leave Ohio permanently, having been inspired and influenced by the West. He first arrived at a town called Louisiana, Missouri, where he published the news.
In 1866, Ashmun journeyed to Kansas City and subsequently proceeded to Denver, Colorado. During his stay in Denver, Ashmun had the pleasure of meeting Barbara Jones (commonly referred to as “Ma’am” Jones) and her husband, Hieskell. As fate would have it, Ashmun ended up traveling with the couple and assisted them in transporting their children and belongings to Seven Rivers, New Mexico. Ma’am Jones graciously provided Ashmun with temporary accommodation during this time.
By 1871, Ash had traveled to various places including Salt Lake City, Utah, San Antonio, Texas, Santa Fe, and Las Vegas in New Mexico. While in Salt Lake City, he allegedly received a photograph and signature from Brigham Young. For over 40 years, Ash led a life of a wanderer, documenting his travels and publishing them for the public. He had a strong appetite for exploring new lands and frequently quoted lines from author and journalist Rudyard Kipling’s works “I must go, go away from here, On the other side of the world I am overdue.” When he reached 50 years of age, Ash had seen most parts of the country which deepened his love for traveling. Despite his nomadic lifestyle, he continued his critical role in the newspaper industry even while living in Albuquerque.
In the spring of 1874, it was reported that Ash rented a room in Catherine Antrim in Silver City, staying for approximately three months. During his stay, Mrs. Antrim’s declining health and young Billy the Kid’s innocence were observed. Ash was known to be a talented writer, reminiscent of a Hunter Thompson from the nineteenth century, known for his style of writing called “gonzo journalism.” Ash was fueled by stimulants and alcohol, allowing him to paint vivid pictures with his words, earning him high praise and recognition from newspapers nationwide. He was no ordinary journalist, as he was a frail man with a broken nose, rash on his face, and smallpox pits on his face. Despite his appearance, he was a highly sought-after contributor known for his intoxicating articles.
In 1877, Ash arrived in the Spring River area, which is currently known as Roswell, to work for Captain Lea, who had purchased a land grant for the area and planned to establish a town. Ash played a significant role in this nascent community as clerk and postmaster of one of the few buildings in Roswell. Although life may have been monotonous for him, he also took on additional responsibilities, such as tending to ranching duties for Captain Lea and serving as a surveyor, notary public, storekeeper, justice of the peace, and unofficial school teacher. As one of the few educated individuals in the town’s early days, Ash played an integral part in shaping its development. Captain Lea was aware of the fatal events that took place in Lincoln county, which erupted in war, and chose to remain neutral, keeping Roswell out of the conflict.
In March of 1878, Ash Upson had an encounter with an old acquaintance, Henry Antrim, whom he had previously met in Silver City. This reunion took place at Lea’s store where a group of individuals including Billy the Kid and his Regulators were present, along with the two prisoners who had been charged with the murder of John Tunstall – Morton and Baker. As they conversed, Morton confided in Ash and asked him to contact his Virginia-based cousin in case of his demise. Hearing this, Mr. McClosky assured the group of his protection, vowing to defend the young boys against anyone seeking to harm them. However, after leaving the store, the three men were unexpectedly killed.
On the 4th of July in 1878 at approximately 9 a.m., Billy Bonney and the Regulators visited Ash to purchase candy for Sally Chisum. It is noteworthy that Sally Chisum resided at her uncle John Chisum’s South Spring Ranch, which is located approximately 5 miles from Roswell.
In July of 1881, Pat Garrett was allegedly involved in the shooting of Billy the Kid. Following the incident, various writers produced articles that portrayed Billy as a folk hero and Garrett as an assassin. To counteract these false claims, Garrett enlisted the help of his friend Ash to ghostwrite his version of the events in a book. The collaboration between Garrett and Upson even led to a strong friendship between the two individuals.
The book consisted of 23 chapters in total, with evidence suggesting that Ash Upson was the sole author of the first 15 chapters. While most of the stories in these chapters are deserving of respect, some others appear to be fictitious. It seems that these cleverly written tales were intended to intrigue the readers and compete with the dime novels of that era. However, the last 8 chapters take on a different approach, as they offer a first-person account that suggests the involvement of Garrett. The book, titled The Authentic Life Of Billy The Kid, The Noted Desperado of the Southwest, Whose Deeds of Daring and Blood Made His Name a Terror in New Mexico, Arizona and Northern Mexico, did not sell many copies, but it did have a significant impact on the Kid’s image.
It is noteworthy to mention that the new book incorporates a coincidence in which Billy the Kid shares Ash Upsons’ birthday on November 23rd. It is possible that Ash created this coincidence intentionally or it may be attributed to his memory of Billy’s birthday from when he resided at Catherine’s home. This detail adds an interesting dimension to the storytelling and may provide a deeper insight into the characters.
Ash Upson’s work on Billy the Kid has left a significant mark on the historical and literary community. Through his use of both factual evidence and imagination, Upson has created a complex and multifaceted portrayal of the infamous outlaw. His portrayal of Billy the Kid as both a beloved youth and a ruthless killer has had a lasting impact on historians, researchers, and enthusiasts alike. Upson’s book has served as a valuable resource for many authors looking to both understand the true history of Billy the Kid and also draw inspiration from his story. However, it is important to note that some have come to rely too heavily on Upson’s work, mistaking his fiction for fact. Nonetheless, Upson’s work remains a significant contribution to the field of history and literature.
According to sources, it has been suggested that Sheriff Pat Garrett may have had limited literacy skills and subsequently employed Upson as a clerk to manage the records of the sheriff’s office. Additionally, in 1889, the two individuals established a real estate company which did not thrive.
“In April 1891, the Garretts relocated from Roswell to Uvalde, Texas, leaving behind their loyal acquaintance, Ash, who was fondly referred to as Uncle Ash by the Garrett children. He was entrusted with some essential tasks related to the Garretts’ unfinished business, ensuring their smooth transition to their new home.”
In 1892, Upson returned to Connecticut for a short period following the passing of his mother at the age of 91, after his father’s death just two years earlier. Despite the distance, Upson remained a beloved member of the Garrett family, and eventually returned to their home in Uvalde, Texas. Sadly, on October 6, 1894, Upson passed away while under their care. He was laid to rest in a private cemetery lot owned by Pat Garrett, an important figure in Upson’s life. Several weeks after the burial, Pat reached out to Upson’s sister with the question of what to do with the late Upson’s trunk and clothing. Today, Upson’s resting place is marked with a headstone and is on private land at Uvalde cemetery, serving as a reminder of the life and times of this cherished member of the Garrett family.
Below are the transcripts of two letters Ash Upson sent home to his parents after arriving in New Mexico
Roswell, Lincoln County, New Mexico, August 30, 1876
“Dear Father,
Your letter of late date was duly received. You will see by date that I have again changed my base. The causes which brought me here were the following: In the first place, Mrs. Casey is harvesting her crops and has kept her children employed in planting, herding cattle, building new houses, etc., since last April. Since the first of April, I have not held three weeks school. Nothing to do but keep her books and write a few letters except attending to chickens and such like trifling employment. I became very much ennuied, as the French would say.
John S. Chisum, the cattle king, of whom I wrote to you, wanted me to survey 320 acres of land for him, four miles from here, where his store is. He went to Arizona some six weeks ago, with two large herds of cattle — some 4,000 or 5,000 head, and is daily expected back. He stopped at Mrs. Casey’s as he went away and told me to come down at any time and survey his land. So, some three weeks ago, I came down. I only had a compass and chain. I could not find any monuments on the land and will have to procure a transit from Ft. Stanton.
This place, Roswell, is only four miles from Chisum’s principal ranch, and there is no one living here except F. G. Christie, the acting deputy postmaster. He is an old California miner, and is very much dissatisfied here, all alone, and making nothing except a small salary for looking out for the property. I did not wish to return to Mrs. Casey’s until I had completed my survey, and Mr. Christie urgently requested me to remain with him, and to promise to accept the postmaster’s position with the perquisites, etc. I consented to stay for the present. Have been here two weeks. Christie has written to Van C. Smith, who owns the place, and lives in Santa Fe, to find out what he says in the matter. In the meantime, let me describe the man, and the place.
Van C. Smith is a gambler of what is called the superior class. That is, he is looked upon as an honorable man, who can step into the store of a merchant and borrow a few hundreds whenever he chooses — if he is dealing faro, and a greenhorn comes in and bets on his game, Van will tell him honestly when he wins or loses. In short, will not cheat at his game. He is a friend of mine to such an extent that he would not let me bet at his game if I wanted to (which I don’t) saying: ‘Ash, unless you are going to follow gambling as a profession, let it alone altogether. I don’t want your money.
Well sometime in 1870, I think, Van took it in his head to play the game of “reformed gambler.” He had some thousands in the bank. He purchased this ground and built upon it. I never saw a more beautiful uncultivated place. It is on the Rio Hondo, the same river that Mrs. Casey’s Ranch is on, and just about 50 miles southeast of there. The Hondo is south of the houses. Northwest of the houses is the North Spring River about 100 yards distant. This river is as transparent as crystal, and about 40 feet wide opposite the house. The house is only two miles from the rise of the river, and it is only four miles from the house to the mouth; it empties into the Rio Pecos.
The Pecos is fully as large as the Rio Grande, although the Rio Grande is several hundred miles longer, the Pecos rising only some 30 miles from Santa Fe, whilst the Rio Grande, rises in Colorado, in the Rocky Mountains. I have stepped across both of them at their fountain heads. They both empty into the Gulf of Mexico. I was mistaken about North Spring River emptying into the Pecos. It empties into the Hondo about 1 1/2 miles from the house, and the Hondo empties into the Pecos about 2 1/2 miles from the mouth of the North Spring River some 3 1/2 miles long. Besides N. Spring River, there is South Spring River, which has its rise just 1 1/2 miles south of this house, and makes a junction with the Hondo at its mouth, where both, or rather, all three empty into the Pecos.
Besides these four rivers there are two smaller ones, their rise from springs not more than 2 1/2 and 3 1/2 miles from this house, and emptying into the Pecos 2 and 3 1/2 miles below the mouth of the Hondo. Six rivers within four miles of our door — two within pistol shot — literally alive, all of them, with fish. Catfish, sunfish, bull pouts, suckers, eels, and in the two Spring rivers and the two Antelopes, splendid bass. These four rivers are so pellucid that you can discern the smallest object at their greatest depth. The Hondo is opaque and the Pecos is so red with mud that any object is obscured as soon as it strikes water. Here is where the immense catfish are caught. I pulled one out, 4 1/2 years ago, that weighed 57 pounds. Eels 5 and 6 feet long are common. Bass, in the clear streams, from 2 to 4 pounds is an average.
Well, to return to Van Smith, he put up two good buildings — adobe, of course. One, a dwelling, one and one-half stories high-square — four rooms below and one above. The other larger square-one — half for a store and the back divided into two rooms and a half story above. (These were built across from where the courthouse now stands.) He built, also, a blacksmith shop, stables, chicken house, two very large corrals — one for horses and one for cattle — he set out trees all about the houses, brought water from North Spring River by Acequias in front and behind the houses — built three farmhouses on the Hondo within 1/4 to 1/2 mile distance — stocked his store with the best assortment of goods ever brought to the country — furnished his houses splendidly, and went to accumulating stock and cultivating the ground.
The misfortune was that he would have nothing but fast racehorses, full-blooded cattle, game chickens, and bulldogs. He was a constitutional gambler. He next built a cockpit and race track, with judges stand, etc. His gambling friends would come 250 miles from Santa Fe and Las Vegas to spend a few weeks. Horse racing, dog fighting, chicken fighting, poker, etc., was the order of the day. No merchant, farmer, or stockman ever succeeded in business whilst his best time was spent in gambling. Van had named this place Roswell, being the name of his father. He had succeeded in getting a post office established, and there is no reason why he should not have thousands of cattle, horses, sheep, hogs, etc., roaming over miles and miles of inexhaustible pastures, (in winter as in summer) except that he could not refrain from gambling, nor stay away from the cities where he could indulge his passion.
He went to Santa Fe and established what is called a first-class billiard and gambling saloon, where he is now, having shared the smiles and frowns of Fortune at intervals, but no better off than he was when he left here. He has not been here for more than a year, but has paid someone to stay and attend to the post office and look out for his small amount of stock and other property here. There is in the store the remnant of his old stock worth $200 or $300, with all the fixtures, counters, shelving, safe, scales, etc., enough to do a first-class business in New Haven. Sixteen head of blooded cattle — 7 good mulch cows, and some beef cattle — two racehorses, one a broken-down mare, and the other a 4-year-old race nag, cost $600. A few hogs, pure Chester Whites, two dogs, one a full-blooded setter-fine stock, the other a bull terrier, for which Van paid $100 in gold, in St. Louis. There are 70 odd game chickens here. You may, or may not know that cockfighting is the national amusement in Old and New Mexico. These chickens sell for $10 and $25 a trio, that is two pullets and one rooster. If I stay here, I propose to sell off most of the roosters. The hens are good layers and I like eggs.”
“Dear Parents,
I want to come home to Connecticut. I want to see a field of clover, a bed of cowslips, a pond of lilies and bulrushes, a pasture lot, bespangled with daisies and dandelions, a sweet, clear, babbling brook, where there are no tarantulas, no scorpions to bite a fellow. I want some homemade bread, some oysters, clams, softshell crabs, Indian pudding, yellow butter, good apples, popcorn, peaches, gingerbread, (these new England delights were not obtainable here in the early days,) puritanical sermons, old fashioned church music, mush and milk, quilting parties, hominy, sewing societies, sweet cider, singing schools, New England rum, Yankee girls, molasses, candy, the grace of God, and such other refreshments as I used to growl at and yawn over. I want to get back to my first love. I ponder often, contrasting these rugged mountains and barren plains, with the beautiful hills and green fields of my native New England. I’d like to swap off a few cacti for a big tree laden with ox heart cherries, or swap a few leagues of the ‘Journey of Death’ for an acre of Green Meadow on the Connecticut River; or a few tons of this hot sand, or my gold mines in the Placers, together with $30,000 in Militia warrants for an acre of garden spot where I could raise beans and peas and squashes! I want to go home.”
