Martin Mathews ALLRED

There is some debate about what his real name was.  Some sources say it was Marlin Mathitis and others say Martin Mathews and others say Marlin M.  Even his marriage record and tombstone are spelled differently.  For the purpose of this report, I am using Martin Mathews because that is the way the history was presented to us.  If you have documentation proving what his real name was, such as a contemporary Bible record or family letter, please contact me and I'll be glad to make the correction.  

Allred Lineage:   Martin Mathews, Reddin Alexander TWIN, Isaac, William, Thomas, Solomon born 1680 England

Born: 05/15/1859
Died: 09/24/1939

Submitted by: Sharon Allred Jessop 04/06/1999

Pleasanton, New Mexico, Summer of 1882

The report came in that the Apache Indians were on the warpath and coming in that direction. There were about a dozen families gathered in to the settlement from the outside, making about a hundred souls in all. Guards were set out on the hills and in the brush to spy. If they saw signs of Indians they were to fire their guns as signals to the men in the houses. After a couple of days, two boys went out to hunt deer, unknown to anyone--everybody was forbidden to leave the place except the scouts.

There were three guards out on the hills. My brother, R. R. Allred was on the south on a high hill. He saw two men moving in the brush about a half mile away and took them to be Indians and he fired two shots. This gave the alarm to the people in the houses and they began to prepare for an attack.

I, Martin M. Allred, was building a rock wall around the porch with portholes in it. My father, R. A. Allred, started at once up the hill to warn my brother’s wife, Mary Allred, who was at the farthest house with her children. He took the children, Cora, Mabel and the twins, Milford and Marlin, and told her to follow as fast as she could. When he reached the settlement, he found she had not come at all, so he hurried back after her. He found her sitting calmly with her knitting.

“What in the world is the matter” he asked? “Don’t you know the Indians are coming?”

She said she had some bread in the oven and couldn’t go until it was done. She didn’t want it to burn. So he had to wait a little while for it to finish as she wouldn’t leave without it.

The alarm turned out to be false as it was only the boys who had gone out to hunt.

The Indians had turned and went across the mountains southeast and attacked a family living there on a cow ranch. There were two miners working a claim a half mile from the ranch. When they heard the shooting they went to investigate. When they arrived they found a man and woman and three children, all dead. A gun road had been driven through the women’s body and she was pinned to the ground. They found a twelve year old girl still living but she was hung on a meat hook by the cords in the back of her neck. They took her to Silver City to the hospital and she fully recovered. The Indians had gone on to find new victims.

Arizona Territory - 1883-1884

In 1883 my brother, Aldo, came from Utah and stayed all winter in Taylor, on the north side of the White Mountains in Arizona. In the spring he asked me to help him move over the mountains to the Gila Valley. On the trip over when I got within a half mile of Black River, I saw a very plain Indian trail crossing the road. I went on across Black River about three miles and met a company of soldiers. The captain asked me if I had seen any Indiana. I told him I had crossed a trail the other side of Black River. He said, “Did you know a large band of Indians left San Carlos last night on the war path’? Then he said, “Where is your Winchester and why aren’t you carrying it across you lap?” I told him I didn’t have a Winchester, so he asked if I had a six-shooter. I told him I only had a derringer, a small gun that can be carried in the hip pocket. He swore at me and said I was either crazy or a fool. I told him that I knew as much about Indians as he did; that I had been among them for years; if I had a wagon load of Winchester they wouldn’t do no more good that the little derringer. The Indians would have heard my wagon coming and have hidden in the rocks and shot me before I knew they were around. “Well whip up those horses and get to the post as quick as you can” he said swearing. I told him if I whipped ;my horses all the way I wouldn’t have much wagon left, and it couldn’t be a very find ride over the rocks, and I drove on keeping a sharp lookout for Indians.

It was rolling country covered with rocks and maraphi rocks, not a tree to be seen. After bout three miles travel, before I knew it there were two Indians on each side of me, with their thumbs on the hammers of their leveled guns. I stopped my team and said, “hello boys, “ and offered to shake hands with one of them. He wouldn’t shake hands but scowled and looked as savage as he could. I commenced to laugh and said, “look at that face, what’s the matter with it? You’ll shake hands or I’ll pull your ears for you.” Still he never spoke. Then I spoke in Spanish and asked him what was the matter with him. He answered in Spanish, “Have you seen any Apache Indiana”? I told him I had seen the big trail on the other side of the Black River. He wanted to know if I had seen any soldiers and I told him one company.

“Are you afraid of the Apaches” he asked? “No” I answered. “You know me” he wanted to know? I told him I did not. “I know you” he said. “I know you long time. You old freighter.” Then he started to talk in English. He said, “You have always been a friend of the Apaches. Don’t ever be afraid , the Apaches will not kill you.” And he reached out and shook hands with me. He asked if I had a Winchester. I told him no. He asked if I had a six-shooter, I said I had not, and pulled out my derringer and showed him. He asked me to give it to him but I told him no, I had to have it to keep tramps out of my wagon, they would steal all my grub. He said, “would you kill an Apache with that’? I told him I wouldn’t so he let me keep it. Then he shook hands again, as friendly as could be and said, “when you get down to Camp Apache, don’t tell them you saw me”.

When I got to Camp Apache I told them of my experience and asked them not to say anything about it. It doesn’t hurt anyone to be a gentlemen and treat everyone right, even an Indian. By doing so my life was saved.

In the year 1884 my brother, Lasell Allred had been hunting horses and stayed out all night and came in feeling sick. He had a high fever and for four days was quite sick. On the fifth morning he asked me to call father and mother and my two sisters as he had something he wanted to tell us. He told us to sit down around his bed and he sat up in bed and said, “Pa, I had a vision last night. I was asleep and old Satan grabbed me in the chest and that woke me up. I could see him plainly. A light shone down from heaven and there was a circle of little hands, I didn’t count them, but there seemed to be hundreds of children. They stood in a circle and rang the bells and played the most beautiful music I ever heard. I sat up in bed and watched them and listened to the music. They circled around me, ringing the bells and then disappeared again into the heavens. Then the FATHER and the SON appeared. The Father introduced the SON and the SON told me there was a great work for me to perform and I had only two more days to live. He said I was to go to the Spirit World to teach the Gospel. Then he showed me a vision of the Spirit World. There were many elders upon something higher than the people. There were thousands of people gathered around to hear the elders preach. You could hear them speak five times as far as you can hear here on the earth. Then the SAVIOR said, ‘Now I will show you your funeral’. Then I could see my body lying in a coffin, the rig with white top was driven in front of the door, the back end gate was dropped down and I could see it swing below the box. The coffin was placed in the rig to be taken to the cemetery. I could see that I had the largest funeral ever held in the valley. There were buggies and light rigs of different kinds, two-horse wagons, freight wagons full of people standing up as many as could get in. And behind that came a lot of horsemen and still back of them men and women walking.”

He laughed and said, “It seemed fun, I am going to the spirit world.” In the evening he asked me to get the fiddle and he sat up in bed and played and said, “Hang it up, it is the last time I shall play it.” From then on he didn’t notice anything and about tree o’clock in the next afternoon he passed away.

The family left immediately after his death and stayed with a friend until time for the funeral. The Bishop of the Ward took charge of the body and made all arrangements for the funeral. We did not mention to him the vision Lasell had told us. When we arrived at the funeral all was just as he had said it would be. We found after that the rig was the only one of its kind in the valley. The funeral procession was just as he had described it and everyone said they had never seen so large a funeral in that place.

Lasell died in November. On the 22 of March he would have been 21 years old.

In the year 1884 by brother Aldo, and I went to New Mexico to move my eldest brother, R. R. Allred down to Safford, Arizona. He had been sick for about six months and thought perhaps a change of climate would do him good. As we were going down a slope toward a cactus flat, I riding ahead, my brother called to me to look at those Indians. I stopped my team and reached among my bedding to get my Winchester, and it was gone. I called to him to ask if he had my gun. He had he had, that he had forgotten him and had taken mine out to shoot a rabbit that morning, and had put it in him own wagon. I looked around and there were six Indians coming straight toward us. There were within a hundred and fifty years of us, when they heard me shout. They turned off south and went over the foothills out of sight. We drove on down about a mile to Cactus Flats. There was a company of soldiers walking around among the cactus leading their horses. I told them there was a band of Indians passed close to us as we rounded the point but they paid no attention to me. We went on three files further to a cow ranch and a man came out and asked if we had seen any Indians or soldiers. When I told him he was very mad. He said there were twelve Indians passed his place and the soldiers were within a quarter of a mile of them and could have gotten them easily if they had tried, butt they were still at large.

On the way back there were two families with us, my brother’s family and that of old Jacob Hamlin. The first camp we made we hobbled our horses and ate supper; it was getting quite dark. We heard a number of shots over the ridge from us. We grabbed our guns and went out among the horses as we were afraid the Indians would run them off. We stayed with them until twelve o’clock, then old Jacob Hamlin came out and said, “Come on in boys, nothing will molest us or our stock tonight.” We had faith in what he said and he was right; nothing came near.

The next morning after traveling two or three miles, we met to cowboys leading two Indian ponies, with saddles which were covered with blood. There were the ones who had done the shooting the night before. The two Indians who were badly wounded had crawled away in the darkness and though they followed the flood tracks the next morning for a quarter of a mile, they could not find them. We passed out of New Mexico into Arizona and came to a watering place called “Ash Tanks”, the only water with twenty miles in any direction. There was a horse, covered with blood lying dead from gunshot would, beside the water. There were moccasin tracks all around the place, but I told them we would pull out and camp there. My brother and Jacob Hamlin followed my lead but some others who were with us were afraid to stop, they were afraid to go on too so they sat in their wagons until dark. Finally they did make camp and we all stayed there. Nothing further of importance happened until we reached home.

At one time I was freighting and my wife wanted to go with me. There was another freighter going along too. We had to cross the Reservation and the Indians were awful mean and tried to drive us off the road. They said it was their land and their road and we had no right on it. I laughed and joked with them, but they said they would kill us if we didn’t get out of the road. I wouldn’t turn out so they would ride out around me and turn into the road in front of the other freighter, who was so badly scared that we would turn out for them.

We made the trip safely, but before we were ready to go back my wife took the measles so I could not take a load but the other man took him load back along. On the way, the Indians killed him and had stolen his goods and horses and burned his wagon. Later two of the Indian leaders were caught and hung.

On another occasion, my wife and I were going from Wilcox back down to Mesa. She said, “lets go down the San Pedro River. It will be nearer and maybe we can strike up a good trade that way.” I was willing and we crossed Sulphur Spring Valley and came to the fork of the road. I turned out on the right hand fork to go down to San Pedro, but I pulled up my team and threw on the brake. She asked me what was the matter, I said, “Something told me not to go this way”. “All right”, she said, “then we won’t go that way.” She caught hold of the line and pulled the horses around into the left hand road to Benson.

We drove into the hills and camped that night. Next day we drove into Benson. As we neared the town about 25 or 30 people, men, women, and children came toward us across the railroad track. When we met, a man stopped us and asked us where we came from. I told him from Wilcox. He asked, “Where did you stop last night?” I said on the Dragoon Mountains, and he wanted to know if we saw any Indians. Then he told us that on the road from Wilcox to San Pedro the Indians had come upon two cowboys as they were watering their horses and had killed one of them. The other got away and came into Benson. Now they were sending eight men out to bring in the body.

Then my wife told them how near we came to going that road. We would have struck that watering hold just about the time the Indians had killed the man there.