The Infamous Black Bird Southern Oregon History, Revised

Medford Pioneers: William M. Colvig

    Wm. L. Colvig, born Sept. 19, 1814 in Loudoun County, Virginia, emigrated from Platt County, Mo. and arrived at Portland, Oregon Sept. 22, 1851. Physician.
    Helen M. Colvig, wife of Wm. L. Colvig, born at Hartford, Conn. Sept. 16, 1816, emigrated from Platt County, Mo., arrived at Portland, Oregon Sept. 22, 1851.
    William M. Colvig, born in Ray County, Mo., Sept. 2, 1845, emigrated from Platt County, Mo., arrived at Portland, Oregon Sept. 22, 1851.
"Southern Oregon Pioneers," Oregon Sentinel, July 8, 1882, page 3

    In Portland, O.T., June 18, by Rev. P. G. Buchanan, Mr. David Birdseye, of Jacksonville, to Miss Clara Fleming, of Portland.
Sacramento Daily Union, July 19, 1853, page 2

On Saturday, the 16th August, a traveler was passing along the road, when near the farm of Mr. Colvig, about a mile north of the canon, in Douglas County, saw a barefoot track in the road, and on looking towards the South Umpqua River he saw five or six Indians, not more than a hundred paces from the road, standing under a pine tree, all armed with guns. He put spurs to his horse and raised the alarm as soon as possible. Collecting five or six men, they started in pursuit of Indians, but were unable to trail them.
"Indian Murders in Southern Oregon," Sacramento Daily Union, September 6, 1856, page 2

    Wm. T. [sic] Colvig was appointed Justice of the Peace for Canyonville Precinct.
Douglas County Journal #1, December 6, 1859, page 150

    ROAD TO KLAMATH.--A detachment of twenty men, under command of Captain Sprague, started to cut a road from Fort Klamath, intersecting the "Rogue River and John Day Wagon Road" at Union Creek. By letter from Captain Sprague we learn that an excellent road can be made with but a slight grade. He says teams can draw as heavy loads over it as they can over the Crescent City road.
    The Captain says he would be very thankful for any assistance from the citizens on this end of the road.
Oregon Sentinel, Jacksonville, July 29, 1865, page 2

    HEAVY GALE.--On Wednesday last the wind blew a gale in the neighborhood of Rock Point. Many trees were blown down, a barn of Mr. Birdseye's was unroofed, and several fields of corn blown flat to the ground.

Oregon Sentinel, Jacksonville, September 5, 1868, page 3

COLVIG-VEACH.--At the residence of the bride's father, near Canyonville, by Rev. J. A. Flinn on the 3rd inst., Mr. Volney Colvig to Miss Florence Veach.
Oregon Sentinel, Jacksonville, January 9, 1869, page 2

    GOING NORTH.--We understand that Mr. Birdsey, of Rock Point, will soon leave with a large drove of horses for the Idaho mines.
Oregon Sentinel, Jacksonville, April 3, 1869, page 3

    David Birdsey Esq., from Rogue River, arrived here a few days ago with a drove of horses, bound for John Day River. He remained here a day, employed a guide, and went on his way rejoicing.
"Klamath Items," Oregon Sentinel, Jacksonville, May 29, 1869, page 2

    A new telegraph office has been established at Rock Point, 13 miles north of Jacksonville, Marcellus Colvig operator.
"From Daily of Thursday, Feb. 20," Oregon Statesman, Salem, February 25, 1873, page 1

    MINNESOTA ATLAS.--A. T. Andreas, of Chicago, is now at work in this state with a corps of historians and surveyors preparing an atlas of the state, which will contain a map of every county, giving a plat of all laid-out roads, school districts, towns, and in fact every important place or thing. They will be at work in this county sometime in the latter part of next month. Mr. T. H. Thompson is general state agent, with headquarters at St. Paul. Their advance agent, Mr. Wm. M. Colvig, passed through here on Friday last.
Freeborn County Standard, Albert Lea, Minnesota, April 30, 1874, page 3  For an unflattering critique of A. T. Andreas' business methods, click here.

    The following are among the arrivals at the Burtis House this morning: . . . Wm. M. Colvig. . . .
"Items in Brief," Davenport Democrat, Davenport, Iowa, November 13, 1874, page 1

June 17, 18, 1876
GRAND HOTEL--Neece & Pooler, Proprietors. . . . W. M. Calvig . . .
"Hotel Arrivals," Santa Rosa Democrat, Santa Rosa, Democrat, June 19, 1876, page 3

    Mr. Wm. M. Colvig is at present working on the township maps in this neighborhood for T. H. Thompson & Co.'s atlas of this county. The careful manner in which Mr. Colvig is performing his work promises well for the accuracy and success of the atlas.
"Coast Correspondence," Sonoma Democrat, Santa Rosa, California, August 5, 1876, page 5

    While Willis Hayes of Jackson County was shoeing a mule belonging to Dr. Colvig, he found buried in the hoof of the animal quite a large piece of gold.
"News Items from Oregon," San Francisco Bulletin, September 9, 1876, page 1

    Mrs. Colvig, who lives at Rock Point, Southern Oregon, pulls over her ears this cold weather a quilt containing 2,070 pieces.
"News Items from Oregon," San Francisco Bulletin, February 1, 1877, page 3

    The pioneers of Southern Oregon held a reunion at Bybee's grove in Jackson County last week. Wm. M. Colvig delivered the oration, and the affair was a grand success, socially and otherwise.
"State News," Oregon State Journal, Eugene, September 21, 1878, page 3

CAWLEY-COLVIG--At Grants Pass, December 8th, by Rev. E. Dimick, Edwin R. Cawley and Miss Affie W. Colvig.
Democratic Times, Jacksonville, December 13, 1878, page 3

    Mr. Ed. Cawley, who has been driving stage between Rock Point and Roseburg, was married at Grants Pass to Miss A. W. Colvig, a day or two since. The happy couple have gone to Scotts Valley to live.
"Local Brevities," Ashland Tidings, December 13, 1878, page 3

    MILITARY COMMISSIONS.--The following commissions were issued yesterday from the office of the secretary of state by direction of the governor: William Mason Colvig, assistant adjutant general on staff of Brigadier General Thomas G. Reames, with rank of major, Silas J. Day and Chas. Nickell, of Jacksonville, aides de camp on staff of Brigadier General T. G. Reames, with the rank of captain.
"City," Oregonian, Portland, April 3, 1879, page 3

    At this writing the shimmering midsummer has seated herself down upon the billowy hills and undulating vales of Jackson County, and the indications are that she has come to stay. But we did not take up the editorial pencil to scribble about the heat of the summer, for we have decidedly more tropical facts to chronicle than those of climate. Last week, as you remember, we wrote you of an invitation to lecture on the Fourth at Willow Springs. Well, we went and fought and conquered, though we had no idea of a battle when we started in. The evening of the third, after we had declined all other invitations for the Fourth, and after those interested had sent out posters all over the country, saying we would "orate" at Willow Springs, and when it was everywhere known that the largest crowd in Southern Oregon would be gathered at that point on that day, partly because of the promised speech by a woman on the Declaration of Independence, the chairman of the committee on arrangements, Wm. M. Colvig by name, whom we had once honored at a popular public lecture in Illinois in '72 by asking him to preside, and publicly complimenting him as a fair specimen of the average Oregonian during the meeting; the gallant Major, who had stood up for the woman question like a man in a community where the general sentiment in its favor was so strong that even he could see that it would be unpopular to do otherwise, wrote us a note, signed by his own hand with the names of the two other members of the committee, and his own (the chairman's) as footpiece, and curtly informed us that the committee objected to our using any portion of the Fourth of July for a speech that was presumed to be out of the usual order of such orations; they wanted the afternoon from half-past two--the entire time from that hour till the morning of the fifth--for dancing, and their request was not unreasonable, and they should see that it was complied with. But it transpired, before the holiday was over, that the "Jedge didn't know the family."
    On the evening of the third we were driven over to Willow Springs by Mrs. Plymale, our team an elegant turnout from her good husband's livery stable, our destination the beautiful country home of Mrs. H. McDonough, where we met the aforesaid chairman and imaginary footpiece of the committee, who talked fairly enough on his own side of the question, saying that he had a pecuniary interest in the dancing hall, and the lecture would keep a large number from dancing who would otherwise pay him for tickets for the afternoon. We soon saw that this was only a subterfuge, for we offered to pay him in full for every minute of the Fourth of July we should use, and that didn't suit. So we finally compromised by agreeing, with his permission, to step to the stand, before the crowd was dispersed for dinner, and explain, for the satisfaction of the public and our own justification, that we did not wish to occupy the time in cultivating brains which time-honored usage had devoted to heels [i.e., dancing]--or words to that effect--so we would withdraw the published appointment till a future day. This compromise effected, we possessed our soul in serenity and repaired to the grounds, where there was some very fair singing by a choir (principally ladies, of course), and an oration by the Hon. Mr. Langell. Of his oration we can say little, for we couldn't hear much of it. Long before it was over the news had spread through the crowd that Mrs. Duniway had been ruled out by the dancing committee, and the commotion was so great in consequence that, though we strained our ears to the utmost, we couldn't even learn the fate of the bewitched historic "hog with six pigs" of whom he sought to tell the public; nor were we certain whether he said a word about an "ox with six calves" or "a horse with six colts" or "a man with six babes." But we presume the oration was first-rate, though it was lost, in the main, on that audience. But it will doubtless be preserved to posterity through printer's ink, and then we shall know just what that "hog with six pigs" had to do with a Fourth of July celebration. After some more singing, Major Colvig, protector of dancing, announced that they would now adjourn to dinner, after which they would have a horseback tournament and then the dance, thereby entirely ignoring his promise to give us opportunity to explain to the multitude that, in consideration of the committee's pecuniary and other interests, we should postpone our lecture till another day. And then the commotion increased, and the fan was refreshing. More people of both sexes and all ages than we had ever before been introduced to upon a single occasion, and all the friends we had met before who were present, and their name was legion, kept coming up and asking for the promised speech. We steadily declined to infringe upon the prior rights of heels; but the horseback tournament was long and unsatisfactory, and the dancing did not commence, and the discontent grew more manifest, and finally such a pressure, by leading citizens of the county, was brought to bear upon the Marshal of the day that he came to us, and, being introduced by Mr. Plymale, stated that it was the pleasure of the company, and of himself as Marshal, that we should make a short address. Thus protected, we entered the stand and spoke for twenty minutes, while the gallant Major was sweeping off the dancing floor. We had explained that the remarks would be brief, as we should not interfere with the trip of the light fantastic toe; but the self-constituted footpiece of the committee, nothing daunted by a woman speaker nor the eager crowds that pressed around the stand in attitude of respectful listening, ordered the music to begin while we were delivering the closing sentences, and, stepping forward, said, in a voice fairly choking with baffled man's rights dignity, "You will now choose your partners for a cotillion." We gently reminded the heel-protecting Major that we were speaking under the guardianship of the Marshal, but nevertheless we shouldn't detain him a minute. That explanation didn't stop him or the music, and we bowed to the audience, smiling, and saying, "heels were trumps," left the platform, only to be conveyed a little distance by the enthusiastic crowd to a big open farm wagon, which was soon filled with ladies, in whose midst we stood, while the augmented throng gathered in the sun and wind and dust and listened for a full hour to the gospel of liberty as we had learned it from the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution of the United States. 
Abigail Scott Duniway, "Editorial Correspondence," The New Northwest, Portland, July 17, 1879, page 2

Colvig, Wm. L., NE qr. of sec. 33, T4N R2C, 160 acres . . . $7.93
"Delinquent Tax Sale," Vancouver Independent, Vancouver, Washington, March 25, 1880, page 4

    Mr. M. M. Colvig, Druggist, Canyonville, Oregon, Dear Sir:--The report has reached me that some complaint has been made in regard to the compounding of prescriptions at your drug store. I desire, unsolicited, to state that in all my experience with druggists, I never saw a more careful and conscientious compounder of prescriptions than yourself. I have frequently noticed the extreme exactness with which you would weigh and measure medicines, even those of no essential medicinal quality, such as simple my syrups, mint water, &c. It is the habit with some unprincipled physicians, whenever a patient gets worse under treatment, to look suspiciously at the medicine ordered and exclaim, "That is not what I ordered," or "The druggist made a mistake," thus casting the blame for the patient's condition on the innocent druggist. Possibly you may have been the victim of that kind of practice. However that may be, let me give you some of the advice so often given to me when unjustly assailed. "In your position you cannot afford the time to stop and reason with a very little dog that barks at you. So right doing in your dignified and correct way. Defy them to show wherein you have done wrong or harmed anyone. Let them vent their spleen and malice. It will soon recoil upon themselves and if there is any shame in their composition, they will someday see their error and be sorry for the injury they tried to do you." There are some men and some women who would scorn to rob a hen roost or a clothes line, but who have no hesitancy whatever in robbing a person of that which is far more valuable than gold, his good name and position in society. They would not poison his cattle but they would poison and ruin his reputation if they could. Do not let any reports prejudicial to your care and skill worry you. Let them alone and they will die of their own rottenness.
Douglas Independent, Roseburg, Oregon, October 16, 1880, page 4

    The wife of Dr. W. L. Colvig, aged 70, while attempting to jump from a carriage during a runaway on the Canyonville road, fell and was run over, fracturing a leg and arm and badly bruising her head. She is not expected to recover.
Reno Evening Gazette, August 10, 1881, page 2

    WANTS TO MARRY.--A rich miner from Happy Camp is now in the valley who offers $500 to anyone who will get him a wife. He came very near getting married at Rock Point last Thursday, the engagement having taken place by telegraph, but it was broken off by the young lady [Aphia?] starting for Jacksonville as soon as she seen the would-be groom arrive on the stage.
Oregon Sentinel, Jacksonville, October 22, 1881, page 3

    Wm. L. Colvig, born Sept. 19, 1814, in Louden County, Virginia, emigrated from Platt County, Mo., and arrived at Portland, Oregon, Sept. 22, 1851. Physician.
    Helen M. Colvig, wife of Wm. L. Colvig, born at Hartford, Conn., Sept. 16, 1816, emigrated from Platt County, Mo., arrived at Portland, Oregon, Sept. 22, 1851.
    William M. Colvig, born in Ray County, Mo., Sept. 2, 1845, arrived at Portland, Oregon, Sept. 22, 1851.

"Southern Oregon Pioneers," Oregon Sentinel, Jacksonville, July 8, 1882, page 3

    The store of Woodford and Colvig at Woodville in Southern Oregon was robbed of a lot of clothing a few nights ago. Mr. Colvig took a couple of shots at the thief but succeeded in only making him drop a portion of the plunder. A certain person is suspected.
"Local and General," Corvallis Gazette, November 2, 1883, page 4

    W. M. Colvig, school superintendent, writes the Jacksonville Times that there was an increase of 447 children of school age during the year in Jackson County, but the increase in funds more than meets the demand. In fact, school matters seem very encouraging at present.

"News Summary," Corvallis Gazette, March 28, 1884, page 9

    Some quartz veins which prospect well, and have assayed as high as $100 per ton in gold, silver and copper, have recently been discovered on the mountain near Woodville, Jackson County. Dr. Stanley and George W. Colvig are interested in the claims.
"News Summary," Corvallis Gazette, May 9, 1884, page 5

    PUBLIC SPEAKING.--W. G. Colvig, of Jackson County, Prohibition candidate for Elector, will speak at the court house this evening at 7 o'clock p.m., giving his views upon the political issues of the day. Everybody invited to attend, especially ladies.
Eugene Guard, October 11, 1884, page 5

    William M. Colvig, Democratic candidate for district attorney, called on us on Monday. Mr. Colvig is one of the prominent farmers of Jackson County, and having in the past few years given his attention to the law, would certainly make a good officer if elected.
"Local and Personal," Rogue River Courier, Grants Pass, May 14, 1886, page 3

    A number of real estate transfers in Jacksonville town property took place this week. Brad Dean bought Sheriff Jacobs' residence for $900, Wm. M. Colvig bought Chas. Schultz' place for $500 and Thos. J. Kenney bought the Chavner house opposite the Catholic Church for $400.
"Local Items," Oregon Sentinel, Jacksonville, June 26, 1886, page 3

    The certificate of election of W. M. Colvig as Prosecuting Attorney of the First Judicial District failed to arrive at Jacksonville from the office of the Secretary of State in time for Mr. Colvig to qualify last Monday, and up to Wednesday night Mr. Kent was still the district attorney. There was probably some mistake made in mailing the certificate from Salem. The certificate of election of Judge Webster arrived all right in due time.
"Brevities," Ashland Tidings, July 9, 1886, page 3   See the August 22, 1926 story below.

    It now turns out to be a fact that ex-district attorney T. B. Kent has actually undertaken to prevent W. M. Colvig from taking his seat as the newly and duly elected district attorney for the First Judicial District. The Salem Statesman props up Mr. Kent's long ears in the case as follows:
    "T. B. Kent was elected on the Democratic ticket in 1884 for prosecuting attorney of the First Judicial District. In 1886, in June, Wm. M. Colvig was elected to succeed Mr. Kent in this office. Mr. Colvig was also elected on the Democratic ticket. It seems that Mr. Colvig did not quality on the first Monday in July, which is the first day upon which he can do this after his election, according to law. But evidently Mr. Kent thinks this is the only day, for he has gone to the expense of telegraphing to the Secretary of State, giving the awful news in the message that, inasmuch as Wm. M. Colvig failed to qualify on the day aforesaid, he claims and will hold the office of prosecuting attorney of the First Judicial District, and he does thereby, on the wings of the lightning, as it were, run in to protest against the Secretary of State's issuing to said Colvig his certificate of election. But the Secretary of State issued the said certificate on the 3rd of July, several days before the protest was put in, and Mr. Kent will most likely cease to be prosecuting attorney of the First Judicial District as soon as Mr. Colvig gets ready to qualify. The law allows Mr. Kent to hold the office till his successor is 'elected and qualified,' but no longer, no matter how much he protests nor how badly he wants to continue to hold it."
    The law further says, on page 576 of the code, that a vacancy occurs in any office upon the "refusal or neglect of the incumbent to take the oath within the time prescribed by law." On page 691, it says: "The term of office of a district attorney shall commence on the 1st Monday of July next following the election of such attorney, and before entering upon such office the person elected thereto must qualify therefor, by filing with the Secretary of State his certificate of election, with an oath of office endorsed thereon, and subscribed by him."
    Mr. Kent's haste in this instance clearly shows the sad mistake he thinks the people made by failing to place him in the office in the start. This would have saved him the painful task of placing himself at the head of the Democratic Party in the attempt to usurp one of its prominent offices. The people of the First Judicial District elected officers at the late election in whom they have the utmost implicit confidence, and they do not want their choice tampered with. We of Josephine think there has been enough of this tampering with the people's will in the recent past to do the country for any number of years.
Rogue River Courier, Grants Pass, July 23, 1886, page 2

    We regret to say that this case is still unsettled, and we are informed Mr. Kent is still contending for the office, basing his claim thereto upon a very questionable technicality in the manner of Mr. Colvig's qualification.
    We are in receipt of a letter from Jackson County written by a gentleman high in office from which we make the following extract:
    "I am glad to see you take the course you have in the Kent-Colvig controversy, and you can rest assured that your views meet the approbation of all who are acquainted with the ex-district attorney."
    Mr. Kent has by his conduct in this case placed himself in a very disgusting attitude before the people, who have several times honored him by their votes, and we think we can show by the following section of the law that his position is as untenable as it is disgusting:
    Section 37 of the code, page 573, says: "And it shall be the duty of the Secretary of State, in the presence of the Governor, to proceed within thirty days after election, and sooner if the returns be all received, to canvass the votes given for Secretary and Treasurer of State, State Printer, Justices of the Supreme Court, member of Congress, and District Attorney," &c., &c.
    The last election was held on the 7th day of June. The Secretary had according to this law thirty days from June 7th in which to complete the canvass of the votes which this year would have taken the date allowed the Secretary of State in which to make his canvass to the 7th day of July, and he had a right to prolong the canvass of the votes to the 7th day of July before completing his canvass, and even then the law further says on page 574, Sec. 38:
    "If the returns of the election of any county in this state shall not be received at the office of [the] Secretary of State within thirty days after the election, the Secretary shall forthwith send a messenger to the county," &c.
    Mr. Kent claims that because Mr. Colvig did not qualify on the 5th day of July that he was ineligible to the office of district attorney. The law does not say so, nor does it convey that impression. If the Secretary of State may for any cause take until the 7th day of July in which to canvass the votes, can Mr. Kent claim that Mr. Colvig must qualify on the 5th day of July?
Rogue River Courier, Grants Pass, July 30, 1886, page 2

    Since the Courier took a position in the Kent-Colvig case it has been our fortune to receive two very insulting letters from His Honor Thomas B. Kent, once district attorney, "but alas no more." Mr. Colvig is almost an entire stranger to us, and we know of no advantage to result in our behalf from our position, but we do remember that two years ago Mr. Colvig aspired to the nomination of district attorney and withdrew from the field in Mr. Kent's behalf, and it is because Mr. Kent has undertaken to cheat Mr. Colvig out of his election now and in view of the foregoing facts that we assail him. We happen to know that we are sustained by the people, and therefore the Courier "will fight it out on that line if it takes all summer."
    Mr. Kent says, "I propose to try my case, not in the Courier, but in the courts." We care not where Mr. Kent tries his case; we are for the right.
Rogue River Courier, Grants Pass, August 6, 1886, page 2

    The Times and Courier have gone after Mr. T. B. Kent in a manner that would convey the idea that they were really angry.
* * *
    The trying of this case in the Times and Courier beforehand does not have any weight with the judge when it becomes his duty to instruct the jury as to what is the law in the case--[Jacksonville Sentinel.
    What about the Monitor and Tidings, from which we clip the following:
    Mr. T. B. Kent, late prosecuting attorney, has instituted suit against William M. Colvig, district attorney-elect, to oust him from the office. Mr. Kent alleges that Mr. Colvig was elected but failed to qualify according to law. It does seem that as Mr. Colvig was duly elected by a majority over all opposing candidates, that a technicality over which he had no control should not stand between him and the office to which the people elected him. Vox populi est vox dei.--[Monitor.
    T. B. Kent has instituted suit against Wm. M. Colvig to obtain possession of the district attorney's office for another two years. He charges Mr. Colvig with "usurpation of office," etc. Pretty good for a charge against a man elected by the majority given Mr. Colvig. Mr. Kent is certainly making a most egregious blunder in getting up this absurd claim to the office from which he has been plainly dismissed by the people.--[Tidings.
    Bro. Kramer, you are all alone in the defense of Mr. Kent. So far as we are concerned, we will chance both the judge and jury.
Rogue River Courier, Grants Pass, August 20, 1886, page 2

    Mrs. J. G. Birdsey, of Jacksonville, was injured, though not seriously, by the upsetting of a cart in which she was riding week before last. She and Mrs. W. M. Colvig, of the same place, started for a visit to the country. The reins on the horse they were driving became tangled and the horse commenced turning in a circle until the cart was upset, throwing the occupants to the ground. At first it was thought that Mrs. Birdsey's injuries were serious, but fortunately they were not. Mrs. Colvig was not hurt at all.

"Jackson County," Rogue River Courier, Grants Pass, September 17, 1886, page 4

The Decision of the Supreme Court
in the Kent-Colvig District Attorneyship Case.

    The following opinion of the supreme court in the contest case in regard to the district attorneyship of the First Judicial District will be found interesting, as it involves some important points:
The State of Oregon,
upon the information of

T. B. Kent, district attorney
1st Judicial District, app. vs.
Wm. M. Colvig, resp.
    STRAHAN, J.--This is a proceeding instituted under subdivision 1 of section 354 of the code of civil procedure, and is upon the information of T. B. Kent, district attorney of the 1st Judicial District. The amended complaint alleges in substance the following facts:
    That at the general election in the state of Oregon, held June 7th, 1886, the defendant Wm. M. Colvig was a candidate for election to the office of district attorney for the First Judicial District in said state; that on the second day of July, 1886, a certificate was granted by the governor showing the election of said defendant to said office; and that the governor on said day, by his proclamation, announced that said defendant had been elected to said office at such election; that the defendant thereafter wholly neglected and refused to qualify for said office at the time and in the manner provided by law, but has made default therein; that, by reason of the neglect and refusal of the defendant to qualify as by law required, he has lost his right thereto, and is not entitled to hold the same; that thereafter, to wit, on the ------ day of July, 1886, the said defendant unlawfully usurped and intruded himself into said office of district attorney for said district, by appointing W. R. Andrews as his deputy district attorney in an action then pending in the justice's court for the precinct of Medford, Jackson County, Oregon, wherein the state of Oregon was plaintiff and Wm. Robinson was defendant; and that said Wm. M. Colvig has, ever since said last-mentioned date, claimed a right to said office.
    And T. B. Kent, district attorney, as aforesaid, alleges that he, T. B. Kent, is rightfully entitled to have and hold said office of district attorney for said First Judicial District. In support thereof he alleges the following facts: That at said general election in the state of Oregon held in June, 1884, he was duly elected district attorney for the First Judicial District in said state; that thereafter and within the time required by law he duly qualified and entered upon the duties of said office, and has ever since performed the duties pertaining thereto; that by virtue of the constitution and laws of this state, he is entitled to hold said office until his successor is duly elected and qualified.
    The defendant by his answer denied each material allegation of the complaint, and by way of further and separate defense alleged the following facts:
    That at a general election held in the state of Oregon, held on the 7th day of June, 1886, the defendant was elected to said office [of district attorney] for the term commencing on the first Monday in July next following said election; that on the 2nd day of July, 1886, the governor of the state of Oregon duly granted the defendant a certificate of his election to said office, and delivered the same to the secretary of state to be forwarded to the defendant; that on the 9th day of July, 1886, at Jackson County, Oregon, the defendant endorsed his oath of office on said certificate of election, to the effect that he would support the constitution of the United States and of the state of Oregon, and that he would faithfully and honestly demean himself in office; which said oath of office was then and there duly taken and subscribed to by the defendant; and that on the 10th day of July, 1886, and within a reasonable time after the granting of said certificate the defendant duly filed the same, with his said oath of office endorsed thereon, with the secretary of state, who accepted the same; and thereupon the defendant entered upon the duties of said office, and has ever since held said office and discharged the duties thereof; that the acts of usurpation set out in the complaint were performed by the defendant in the regular discharge of the duties of said office, after he had qualified therefor, and not otherwise.
    There was no reply filed to this answer, but the plaintiff without introducing any evidence upon any of the issues moved for judgment on the pleadings, which motion was duly argued, and, after consideration by the court, judgment was rendered in favor of the defendant, from which this appeal is taken.
    By virtue of article xv. of sec. I. of the constitution of this state, all officers except members of the legislative assembly shall hold their offices until their successors are elected and qualified.
    By sec. 2, chapter 4, page 691, general laws, it is provided: The term of office of a district attorney shall commence on the first Monday in July, next following the election of such attorneys, and before entering upon such office the person elected thereto must qualify therefor by filing with the secretary of state his certificate of election, with an oath of office endorsed thereon, and subscribed by him, to the effect that he will support the constitution of the United States [and] of this state, and faithfully and honestly demean himself in office.
    And it is provided by section 48, chapter 14, p. 576, general laws: Every office shall become vacant on the occurring of either of the following events, before the expiration of the term of such office:
*        *        *
    6. His refusal or neglect to take his oath of office or to give or renew his official bond, or to deposit such oath or bond within the time prescribed by law.
    There is no statute in this state prescribing the time within which the official oath of a district attorney must be taken and filed. It is true the term of office begins on the first Monday of July next following the election, but the newly elected officer is not bound to qualify on or before that day, or upon failure to do so incur a forfeiture of his office. "Before entering upon such office, the person elected thereto must qualify therefor," etc., is the language of the statute; and it raises a very strong implication that some time may be allowed to elapse after the term begins before the newly elected officer need qualify. The only result that could follow a delay in qualifying is that he would not enter upon the duties of said office without first having qualified by taking the official oath, and otherwise complying with section 41, supra. But in addition to this, statutes fixing a time within which an officer is required to qualify by taking an oath and giving a bond are generally directory, and a failure to comply within the time fixed does not work a forfeiture. State, ex rel. Blankenship vs. County Court of Texas County, 44 Mo. 230; State, ex rel. the attorney general vs. Churchill, 41 Mo., 42; City of Chicago vs. Gage, 95 Ills., 593; Speake vs. the United States, 9 Cranch, 28. The State of Md. ex rel. vs. Inhabitants of School District No. 1, 21 Pick., 75; City of Lowell vs. Hadley, 8 Metc., 180; Ex parte Heath and Booner, 3 Hill., 42; The People, ex rel., of Westacott vs. Halley, Wend., 481.
    It is unnecessary to notice the other questions discussed, as these views require an affirmance of the judgment, and it is so ordered.
Oregon Journal, Salem, April 15, 1887, page 1

    Dr. W. L. Colvig of Rock Point, who has been very sick, is convalescent, we are pleased to say.
"Local and Personal," Rogue River Courier, Grants Pass, May 6, 1887, page 3

    We learn that Mrs. Colvig of Rock Point, who was reported as having died last Monday evening, rallied from her comatose condition and is somewhat better at this time, we are pleased to say.
"Local and Personal," Rogue River Courier, Grants Pass, June 3, 1887, page 3

    Mr. S. B. Whittle, foreman of the Postal Telegraph repair brigade, has a handy man in the person of Mr. A. Anderson. He is an expert thrower, and when a stream is to be measured he simply picks two stones, throws one across the river and the other, with the same force, upon level ground. By measuring the throw on the ground he has the river's breadth, and is said to seldom miss a very close approximation. The Rogue River, at Rock Point, here the company is putting instruments in Dr. Colvig's house, was found by this means to be 90 yards.
"Local and Personal," Rogue River Courier, Grants Pass, July 29, 1887, page 3

    Misses Jennie and Addie Colvig from Rock Point are visiting their cousin here, Miss Virgie Woodford.
"Medford," Rogue River Courier, Grants Pass, August 5, 1887, page 3

    Dr. Colvig, a dentist residing in Oregon and father of Mrs. A. C. Cawley, who recently figured in the Failing murder case, has to all appearances fallen in very lucky, and if all can be proved, as it is expected, he will become the possessor of a snug fortune of $400,000. This figure represents one-sixth of half a fortune left by the death of his grandfather, who died a number of years ago in France.
"Condensed Brevities," Daily Colonist, Victoria, B.C., June 5, 1888, page 1

    The audience which greeted Hon. W. M. Colvig at Grants Pass on Monday evening last was as large as could be comfortably seated in music hall, and for over two hours he held the undivided attention of his hearers, reviewing in succession the platforms of the two great parties, the relative merits of the candidates, the tariff, the fisheries question, the Chinese problem, the battle-flag episode, the condition of the civil service as regards the soldier, and the condition of the pension department. There was little of the strife-engendering fire of Republican oratory about Mr. Colvig's address, but it was just such a talk as is relished by the people. It showed careful study and research and thorough preparation, and the cutting sarcasm and dry humor with which it was seasoned made it acceptable to the Republicans present as well as to those of his own party faith. The moderation and fairness with which he handled the issues of the contest was deserving of the close attention with which the younger voters present listened to him. It was fortunate that so many of the young men who will cast their first vote at the next election were present and heard so calm, unprejudiced and dispassionate a presentation of political differences. But few of the younger generation are such extreme partisans that they will not listen to reason, and many a young man today is seriously considering the problem whether it is better to cling to a party that has cut loose from its moorings on questions of national policy, or to listen to the dictates of reason and merge the partisan in the patriot by voting for Cleveland and Thurman. We sincerely hope that the young men of this valley, regardless of party affiliations, will avail themselves of the opportunity to hear Mr. Colvig at Sams Valley and Central Point tomorrow and be at Medford next Saturday, as it will be the last opportunity before he leaves for Lake County to attend court.
Democratic Times, Jacksonville, September 27, 1888, page 2

    The Lakeview Examiner, an independent paper, thus complimented our efficient district attorney, Hon. W. M. Colvig: "We wish to say a good word for the grand jury for the October term. They are undoubtedly a set of honorable, honest, moral and conscientious men, and did their duty in every respect as far as they were able to know it. They believe in protecting our homes and our society, and they were ably led by District Attorney Colvig, who does his duty without fear or favor, and for whom we entertain the greatest respect; and it is no flattery when we say that he is head and shoulders above any prosecuting attorney we ever knew."
"Here and There," Democratic Times, Jacksonville, May 30, 1890, page 3

    Dr. Colvig and family of Rock Point have gone to the coast. The report that his grandson, Geo. Cawley, had the diphtheria is unfounded.
"Personal Mention," Democratic Times, Jacksonville, August 1, 1890, page 3

    Miss Addie Colvig, of Grants Pass, was visiting at the home of her aunt, Mrs. H. S. Emery, in Ashland this week.

"Personal," Ashland Tidings, January 29, 1892, page 3

    We are pleased to announce that the condition of Mrs. W. M. Colvig, which was critical for a time, is much improved at this writing. Dr. DeBar, assisted by Drs. Pickel and Geary of Medford, found it necessary to perform some operations, which have proved successful.
"Local Notes," Democratic Times, Jacksonville, February 5, 1892, page 3

    We are pleased to announce that the condition of the wife of District Attorney Colvig is much improved and that the prospects for her ultimate recovery are favorable.

"Personal Mention," Democratic Times, Jacksonville, February 12, 1892, page 2

    Mrs. D. N. Birdseye of Rock Point precinct and Mrs. W. V. Jones of Woodville, mother and sister of Mrs. W. M. Colvig, spent a few days in Jacksonville last week.
"Local Notes," Democratic Times, Jacksonville, February 19, 1892, page 3

    We are glad to learn that the wife of District Attorney Colvig is much improved in health and is steadily convalescing.
"Local Notes," Democratic Times, Jacksonville, March 4, 1892, page 3

    Hon. W. M. Colvig, who has filled the position of district attorney so efficiently for the past six years, achieved a reputation that has seldom been equaled and never excelled in the state of Oregon. He tried 182 cases in that time and obtained 142 convictions, failing to convict in only 40 cases. In the eight cases of homicide he prosecuted he failed to convict the defendants on one or another of the statutory crimes in only a single instance. Very consistently may the people exclaim; "Well done, thou good and faithful servant!" We are glad to mention that Mr. Colvig will actively practice in Jacksonville, and bespeak for him an extensive patronage. As he will not be away from home like when he was holding the office of prosecuting attorney, he can direct his attention to every branch of his profession. Mr. Colvig is an able lawyer and will doubtless meet with the success he deserves.
Democratic Times, Jacksonville, July 8, 1892, page 2

    Mrs. W. V. Jones of Woodville is paying her sister, Mrs. W. M. Colvig of Jacksonville, a visit, accompanied by her children.
"Local Notes," Democratic Times, Jacksonville, July 22, 1892, page 3

    Misses Dora Chausse and Jennie Colvig, who formerly resided in Jacksonville, are holding cases on the Grants Pass Observer.
"Personal Mention," Democratic Times, Jacksonville, August 12, 1892, page 2

    Mrs. H. S. Emery of Ashland has been visiting at the home of her father, Dr. Colvig of Rock Point, accompanied by her children.
"Personal Mention," Democratic Times, Jacksonville, September 9, 1892, page 3

    Hon. W. M. Colvig is making a very favorable impression in the Willamette Valley by his masterly speeches in behalf of the national Democratic candidate. He has already gained the reputation of being one of the ablest and most logical speakers who have ever spoken in the state.
"Local Notes," Democratic Times, Jacksonville, October 14, 1892, page 3

    Col. Robert A. Miller is making a campaign in eastern Oregon and W. M. Colvig is doing the same in the Willamette.
"Brevity Basket,"
Valley Record, Ashland, October 20, 1892, page 3

    Dr. Colvig of Rock Point was stricken with paralysis the first of the week and is in a critical condition.

"Brevity Basket," Valley Record, Ashland, November 3, 1892, page 3

Colvig at Salem.
    Hon. W. M. Colvig, one of the Democratic candidates for presidential elector, returned home yesterday. He made a successful canvass of a large portion of the state and was well received, large audiences greeting him everywhere. The following from the Salem Democrat is a fair example of what has been said of his efforts in behalf of Democracy: "The last speaker was Hon. W. M. Colvig, and it is only just praise to say that he delivered one of the best political addresses ever heard within the walls of the opera house. It was filled with satire, eloquence and logic. He dealt chiefly with the infamous force bill, giving his hearers information in regard to that measure which was probably new to nine out of ten of them. He did not forget to pay his respects to Senator Dolph for his persistent waving of the bloody shirt, and he wanted to know where these patriots who are criticizing Cleveland for sending a substitute 'were at' during the war. So far as he could ascertain Senator Dolph took the first mule for the West in order to avoid the draft, and neither Harvey Scott nor John H. Mitchell ever found themselves in the red front of battle. They held themselves well in check until Lee surrendered, and then their patriotism broke loose, and they have been fighting with their mouths ever since.
Democratic Times, Jacksonville, November 4, 1892, page 3

    Hon. W. M. Colvig returned on Wednesday from a protracted and quite successful canvassing tour through the Willamette and Umpqua valleys. He will make a few speeches in this county before the campaign closes.
    Dr. Colvig of Rock Point last week suffered a paralytic stroke, and for a time it was feared it would terminate fatally. He has since rallied, however, and it is hoped will again be able to be around in a short time.

"Personal Mention,"
Democratic Times, Jacksonville, November 4, 1892, page 3

    Wm. Colvig, one of the Democratic electors, wound up the presidential campaign by a rousing speech at the courthouse Monday evening.

"Jacksonville Jottings," Valley Record, Ashland, November 10, 1892, page 3

Colvig's Peculiarities.
    The demoralized condition of the Oregon Democracy seems to be entirely due to Wm. M. Colvig, one of the nominees for presidential elector. Eight days before election the national committee telegraphed the state committee to withdraw the other three electors. (R. A. Miller having already voluntarily resigned.) The electors were asked to come to headquarters. Mr. Colvig, however, continued his campaign southward and at Roseburg in a speech, according to the Roseburg Plaindealer, defended the idea of Democrats voting for populist electors in Republican states. He continued on southward in this canvass and finally got to Grants Pass, where his two brothers live. (They are both Republican officeholders and one, the railroad commissioner, is said to be in close communion with the Republican "sack." H. B. Miller, on the Republican electoral ticket, also lives at Grants Pass and is an artist at "fixing" other people's machinery so it won't work, but still looks as if it is all right.)
    Here Mr. Colvig seems to have made up his mind, and telegraphed to Portland that he would positively not resign. In his Grants Pass speech he denounced the scheme as unholy and vile. The state committee was paralyzed by this treasonable and unlooked-for attitude, and Chairman Murphy was placed in a humiliating position. Chaos reigned supreme. Various Democratic county committees declared to stand for the Weaver electors; prominent Democrats everywhere bombarded the state committee with telegrams and letters asking that electors be pulled off. But Elector Colvig persistently refused to come off. Colvig telegraphed north that he could not do so, that it meant his political death with 1000 Jackson County Democrats who demanded that he stay. (As the Jackson County Democrats repudiated him entirely in their spring convention, this proposition is rather absurd.)
    Ashland Democrats wired him and wrote him that it was the wish of all Democrats that he obey Chairman Harrity, Cleveland's national committee and the state committee. But Colvig had in the meantime fortified his position by soliciting other Democrats for an endorsement of his position. His answer to the Ashland Democrats was as follows:
Jacksonville, Oregon ]                       
Nov. 7th, 1892 ]                       
    Hon J. T. Bowditch, Avery Johnson, E. J. Farlow and W. H. Brunk:--
    Gentlemen: Your communication of yesterday is before me. I am very sorry that I cannot accede to your request. I was nominated by the Democratic Party of Oregon--not by the state committee nor by the national committee. I am at all times ready to submit to the will of the majority, and have tried to ascertain what is their wish in the embarrassing predicament which now involves the party in this state. I have, in the past 24 hours, received telegrams from all over the state. I have the advice of over forty leading Democrats, and you four gentlemen are the only ones who tell me to withdraw. What am I to do?
    Judge Bellinger, Judge Burnett, Judge Daley, Judge N. L. Butler, A. Bush, Col. Lane, Lafayette Lane, Hon. Geo. K. Shiel, T. G. Reames, J. W. Howard, Judge McArthur, Judge Bonham and a host of others say, "We expect you to stay on the ticket." I am but the servant of the party--one of its color-bearers. The committees have no power to do what they are attempting. They are but the instruments by which the will of the party is executed and through which it is taught.
    I have just finished a thorough canvass of western Oregon. I was greeted with large and enthusiastic audiences at every point. The outlook from the start was very hopeful. All that was needed to carry the state was an aggressive campaign. But vacillation and weakness seemed to be in control. Old Pennoyer swore that he would make the party surrender. He and his friends may cause heavy desertions from the Democratic Party, but he cannot break up the organization in the state as long as enough true men are left to uphold its principles. Voting for Weaver in the hope that he can carry Oregon is child's play. He will lack 7000 votes of doing it. Now you may say he could, if the Democrats would all stand in. Ah, yes. So could we, if one half of the Republicans would stay at home. But they will not. Neither will the Democrats "stand in." And any man who remembers the Greeley campaign of '72 ought to know it. As a practical question it is impossible, and the committees ought to have known it from the start. Having been among the voters of the western part of the state, I think I know their sentiments on this question. You cannot find eight leading Democrats in the state who favor my withdrawal.
    In conclusion, gentlemen, I will say this: I will get 12,000 votes in Oregon. This will represent 12,000 men who would not, under any circumstances, vote for a Weaver elector. If I could get the Democratic votes of the state I would be elected by 5000 majority, but I cannot--because Pennoyer has got his "work in."
Very truly, &c.,
    Wm. M. Colvig.
    On Sunday night the state committee received instructions from Chairman Harrity that it was imperative for Grover Cleveland's success that Weaver electors carry Oregon. Special trains were sent out from Portland through the interior on the eve of the election to at least attempt to carry out the wishes of the national committee.
    But when it was too late to do any good Mr. Colvig was converted over from the position he took when he insulted every Democrat. For on Tuesday morning a telegram was received by the Ashland Democrats from Henry Klippel stating that Colvig had recanted and in a speech before a few Democrats he advised them to vote for Weaver electors. But it was now too late to have the names stricken off the ballots; the people in the state were only cognizant of his burning words that they would find him on the ticket if the ticket received only two votes. It was too late to do any good.
    What is puzzling the Democrats of Oregon is whether Colvig is a stupid fool or a designing knave.
    What would Colvig have done in case he should have been elected and held the balance of power in the electoral college? He could be trusted as far as poor old Horace Greeley once trusted Whitelaw Reid.
Valley Record, Ashland, November 10, 1892, page 3

    Hon. W. M. Colvig, who, four years ago, "swore off" smoking until Cleveland was elected, has, since the late election, been presented with a huge cigar manufactured of the choicest tobacco at the Grants Pass factory. It measures nearly a foot in length, and Mr. Colvig can make up for much of his lost time when he attacks the monster.

"Local Notes," Democratic Times, Jacksonville,
November 18, 1892, page 3

    Jacksonville is a small town in population, but has more of the office-holding fraternity to the square yard than any town in America. After the polls closed on the 8th day of November, a raft of candidates blossomed out for all the offices in Oregon. Henry Klippel is billed for the U.S. marshalship; R. A. Miller for the Oregon City land office; Judge Prim for U.S. consul to Calcutta; Tom Reames for minister to Turkey; Nickell would like to get his fingers in the Treasury Department and Colvig--oh, he is after anything that has a salary attached to it. Circumstances and cruel fate having bereft him of an office for now these five months, he is lean, lank, hungry and dry, famishing and thirsting for another swing at the public teat, and it can't come too soon to suit his appetite.

Valley Record, Ashland, November 24, 1892, page 2

    Dr. Colvig of Rock Point precinct has been paying Jacksonville a visit. He has recovered from the slight stroke of paralysis he experienced a few weeks ago.

"Local Notes," Democratic Times, Jacksonville,
November 25, 1892, page 3

    M. N. Colvig of Canyonville was last week appointed a notary public by Governor Pennoyer.

"Here and There," Democratic Times, Jacksonville, March 24, 1893, page 3

    Hon. W. M. Colvig, who was a candidate for the appointment of judge of the Alaska district, has withdrawn from the contest. We would have been pleased to chronicle his selection, as he would fill the position with ability and credit.
"Local Notes," Democratic Times, Jacksonville, May 26, 1893, page 3

    Hon. W. M. Colvig is well equipped for any mining case which may arise, having just received a complete set of Morrison on mining law, numbering 16 volumes, and which is acknowledged standard authority.
"Local Notes," Democratic Times, Jacksonville, June 2, 1893, page 3

    W. M. Colvig has been appointed administrator of the estate of Antone Joseph, who was murdered a short time since. He was on Williams Creek Monday appraising the property of the deceased, which amounts to nearly $10,000.

"Here and There," Democratic Times, Jacksonville, July 14, 1893, page 3

Trial Postponed.
    Hon. W. M. Colvig, who has had such a great success as a criminal lawyer, has been appointed to defend Thos. Godfrey, who has been indicted for the crime of murdering Jas. Smith on the Siskiyou Mountain last summer. As the Ashland papers have said so much in the premises as to disqualify many of the jurors on the panel who hail from that section, the case will not be tried until the April term of the circuit court, when a new list will be empaneled.
Democratic Times, Jacksonville, December 29, 1893, page 3

    Mrs. Eliza Lane, relict of Capt. N. H. Lane, died recently at her home in Portland. She was a sister of Mrs. D. N. Birdseye of Rock Point precinct and an aunt of Mrs. Wm. M. Colvig of Jacksonville.
"Local Notes," Democratic Times, Jacksonville, February 19, 1894, page 3

To the Voters of Jackson County.
    A candidate for the office of state senator should give public expression of his views on all important matters pertaining to either state or county affairs. He should be able to propose plans of relief, and to enforce attention to his efforts in securing needed legislation.
    I deem it proper to say to the public that if I am elected state senator by the people of Jackson County I shall strive to perform all the duties of the position conscientiously and with a strict fidelity to the public interests. I shall oppose and vote against all appropriations of public money, except such as are needed for the purpose of carrying on an economical state government.
    I am in favor of legislation fixing a maximum rate of railroad freights and fares in this state--passenger fares not to exceed three (3) cents per mile, and freight rates reduced proportionately. I am in favor of a law making it a criminal offense for any person, persons, company or corporation owning or operating any railroad line or other transportation line, for the transportation of passengers to give or offer to give or furnish to any officer of this state government--other than railroad commissioners--or to any officer of any county in the state, any free pass, complimentary ticket or any other privilege not accorded to the general traveling public. That if any such person, company or corporation shall give or furnish to any such officers any such pass, complimentary ticket or any other free privilege of travel upon any such line upon conviction such person, company or corporation shall be fined to the sum of not less than $100, nor more than $1000; provided, further, that if any such officers shall accept, receive, or use any such pass, complimentary ticket or other free privilege of travel other and different than is accorded to the general traveling public upon conviction such officer shall be fined in a sum not less than $50, nor more than $500, and the court before whom such officer is convicted shall declare his office vacant for the rest of the term.
    The last legislature repealed what was known as the "mortgage tax law," substituting in its place another law, which, in practice, has been very burdensome to the taxpayers of this state, causing double taxation on much property owned by the people, and allowing no deduction for indebtedness of any kind. Something will have to be done by the next legislature to give the people of this state some relief from the harshness of the present law. I am in favor of a law assessing all property at its reasonable value, and allowing deduction for indebtedness within the state, whenever such indebtedness is evidenced by a mortgage on real property. This, I admit, does not offer the full measure of relief which many expect, but seems to be the most feasible plan in the premises. In addition to this plan mortgages should be taxed at face value.
    I am in favor of a law fixing the liability of railroad corporations for injuries and damages sustained by their employees while engaged at work in the line of their duties. Our supreme court has recently decided that a "switch tender" is a fellow servant with the employees of a train, i.e., with the engineer, firemen and others. I believe that the relations of fellow-servant should be defined by statute and not left to the caprice of a supreme court.
    If I am elected I will introduce bills embodying the foregoing views, unless I find bills presented by members from other parts of the state which may seem to me better calculated to attain these ends.
    I have held five terms of public office in Jackson County. If any person knows that I ever betrayed either a public or private trust at any time or under any circumstances or in any degree, he should not support me. If anyone thinks that I have not the ability requisite for state senator he should not support me. If anyone believes that I will not faithfully carry out these promises he should not support me.
    My reasons for publishing this notice is that I cannot see and talk to all of the voters of this county. I have never personally asked anyone to vote for me in my life. I have never but once in my life asked the nomination for a public office, and that was for the office of District Attorney. If I did not display any ability in performing the duties of that office then you have a right to assume that I will not do so in any other.
    I am a Democrat, and will support a Democrat for the United States Senate if elected. I never make a "bushwhacking" campaign, and believe that no person is fit for a representative of the people in the state legislature who is afraid to express himself publicly, where all may hear, upon all questions of vital interest to the people. I have done so, and, if elected, expect to return with a record which I may point to with pride. This is all I expect as compensation for the services which I will be called upon to perform. I have lived in Oregon forty-three years; have worked in her fields, her forests and her mines. If I do not return from the legislature with such a record I should never be trusted again.
Democratic Candidate for State Senator.
Jacksonville, Oregon, May 23, 1894.
Medford Mail, June 1, 1894, page 2

    Attorney Wm. M. Colvig, of Jacksonville, accompanied his daughters, Misses Clara and Helen, to Grants Pass, where they went last week to attend the teachers' institute.

"Personal," South Oregon Monitor, Medford, December 4, 1894, page 3

    COLVIG, GEORGE W., of Grants Pass, was born in Ray County, Mississippi, November 12, 1848, and came to Oregon in 1851, and has resided in Douglas and Josephine counties continuously, going to Grants Pass in 1890. He is engaged in practicing law, having been admitted to the bar in 1889. Since 1874 he has been a delegate to county conventions in both counties almost continuously. He was elected a member of the legislature from Douglas County in 1876, 1878, 1880 and 1882, and was nominated for County Judge in 1884. In 1889 he was elected a member of the State Board of Railway Commissioners, and re-elected in 1891. He was a Justice of the Peace at Riddles two years, chairman of the county central committee and a delegate to the state conventions of 1890, 1892 and 1894.

Republican League Register, Reporter Publishing Co., Portland, 1896, pages 195-196

Death of Doctor Colvig.
    Dr. Wm. L. Colvig died at his home at Rock Point Friday, July 17, and was buried at the cemetery at that place Saturday afternoon, followed to his final resting place by a large number of relatives and friends.
    Dr. Colvig was a pioneer of Oregon, having come by way of the route across the plains in 1851. He lived during the winter of 1851 at Portland, and in the spring of 1852 he settled on a donation claim near Canyonville, in Douglas County. He removed to Jackson County in about the year 1870 and purchased his late home place near Rock Point. He was at the time of his death almost 82 years of age, having been born in September, 1814. The place of his birth is Leesburg, Va. His father was a French soldier who served under Napoleon from 1790 to 1801, and went to the West Indies with Jerome Bonaparte, from whence he came to the United States. Dr. Colvig’s education was obtained in a Quaker school in Belmont County, Ohio. In religious matters he was an adherent to the tenets of the Christian church and had for over 45 years been a member of that society. He was the father of ten children, eight boys and two girls, of whom four of the boys and two of the girls remain to mourn his demise. His wife's death preceded his by several years, the year of its occurrence being 1887.
    Dr. Colvig was well known throughout the length and breadth of Jackson County and one time enjoyed an extensive and lucrative medical practice. All who knew him in a business or social way were rated as friends. Indeed, it can be truly said that he leaves no enemies among them all.

Medford Mail, July 24, 1896, page 7

    A grand Christmas festival was given Thursday evening at the club room by the children of the Eastern Star members, under the direction of Mr. and Mrs. C. F. Shepherd. The room was tastily decorated with evergreens and bright red berries. The program consisted of the cantata entitled "Mother Goose's Christmas Party," which was interspersed with songs and recitations. The following participated in the cast: Mother Goose, Mrs. C. F. Shepherd; Mother Hubbard, Edith Priest; Queen of Hearts, Helen Colvig; Bo Peep, Nellie Reames; Cinderella, Agnes Love; Miss Muffet, Mary DeBar; Little Red Riding Hood, Maggie Krause; King Cole, George Merritt; Little Boy Blue, Ernest Elmer; Jack Horner, Robbie Ennis; Tom Tucker, Earl Shepherd; Simple Simon, Albert Elmer; Brownies, Don Colvig, Don Cameron, Vivian Beach and Bryant DeBar; Uncle Sam, Kale Shepherd; Mark Hanna, Vance Colvig; Fairies, Eula Jacobs and Zela White; Santa Claus, Prof. C. F. Shepherd. At the conclusion of the performance a colored light illuminated the stage and a beautiful bedecked Christmas tree, after which the distribution of presents took place. Everyone present enjoyed themselves.
"Jacksonville News," Medford Mail, January 1, 1897, page 3

    Miss Clara Colvig and her little brothers, Donald and Vance, are at their grandparents, Mr. and Mrs. D. N. Birdsey, on Rogue River, for a little outing. Miss Helen is visiting with Mrs. M. Hanley on Butte Creek.
"Jacksonville News," Medford Mail, July 23, 1897, page 3

    D. N. Birdseye died at his residence in Rock Point precinct on the 11th inst., after a lingering illness. He was a native of Bridgeport, Conn., and one of the first pioneers of southern Oregon. Generous and public-spirited and upright in his dealings, Mr. Birdseye had the esteem of all who knew him. He leaves a wife of several children, most of whom are grown, to mourn his loss, as well as a large circle of friends. The remains were buried in the Rock Point cemetery on Sunday, in the presence of a large concourse.

"Local Notes," Democratic Times, Jacksonville, February 14, 1898, page 3

    Hon. W. M. Colvig and wife went to Rock Point precinct on Saturday morning, in response to a message announcing the death of Mrs. C.'s venerable father, D. N. Birdseye.

"Personal Mention," Democratic Times, Jacksonville, February 14, 1898, page 3

    Mr. and Mrs. W. M. Colvig entertained a number of their friends at a whist party in a handsome manner last Saturday evening. Dr. J. M. Keene and Miss Marie Andrews were awarded the first prizes, while Dr. DeBar and Mrs. A. E. Reames captured the boobies.

"Local Notes," Democratic Times, Jacksonville, February 7, 1898, page 3

    On the 5th day of May 1851, I was playing with my three brothers in the streets of Parksville, Platte County, Missouri, which was at that time a small frontier town in the western portion of the state, and about six miles from Kansas City, when my father and his hired man drove up to the front gate with two ox wagons; one was large and heavy, the other was of much lighter build. The former was drawn by three yoke of oxen, the latter by two. The day before, a sale of household effects had been held at the front door, and only those things remained which were thought to be necessary. Father told Mother to get the children, there were five of us, and climb into the lighter of the two wagons. I was six years of age then, but no event in life seems more vividly impressed upon my mind than that start. How the friends, neighbors and relatives crowded around to bid us farewell, and Godspeed on our journey. At last the whips began to pop and the long line of white-covered wagons moved slowly up the street of the village, enveloped by the dust raised by the feet of the many half-broke oxen that slowly dragged their heavy burdens behind them. A short halt was made at Platte City, where hundreds of other emigrants were encamped, and were busily engaged in preparing for the trip. Father and four other men with families, acting as charter members, but with no other authority than that springing from self, began to organize a company from among the motley assembly that had congregated there and was waiting for the "grass to start" before pushing ahead. A form of train government was drawn up and signed, each man pledging himself to abide by the rules embodied, and all binding themselves to stand by each other through every distress and in every adversity. A captain and other appropriate officers were elected; twenty-three other families were admitted to the organization, making twenty-seven families altogether and about fifty wagons. Only those who were well equipped were allowed to join us. The train was thought to be sufficiently large for self-protection, and not too large for camp facilities. At last all was ready; we started on the long journey westwardly. He whose team headed the cavalcade today took the dust of the rear tomorrow, and it would be fifty long days before he again would be in the lead. How slowly the caravan moved over the treeless plains of the Platte! How tedious and wearisome every mile! The men walking beside the oxen, the women and children sitting in the front of the wagon. Hundreds of miles of sand, sagebrush and alkali, and not a drink of good water in the whole distance, nor a living tree, other than a few stunted cottonwoods along the streams. And do you remember what fearful efforts it required to make the wheel oxen hold the wagon back on short pitches, where it would hardly justify a stop to lock with the chain? Not a brake on a single wagon in the outfit! Such a thing was not known at that time, and yet what a saving of teams it would have been had someone even suggested the idea! And for protection no breech-loading guns, or Colt's revolvers, only the old-fashioned Kentucky rifle and the Allen "pepperbox" pistol, the whole thing revolving except the handle, and being a great deal more fearful in looks than in execution. I must hurry along with this sketch. I do not remember all that took place and would not relate any of it, but that it is about the only way I can handle the subject intelligently. Our trip was not so perilous as was that of many who preceded us in making the journey, or of those who came in subsequent years. Some people do not know how to travel; there were many of that kind in those days. An old fellow named Stump was one of our train. He was a little, short, bald-headed, good sort of an old fellow, with a fat, round face crossed by a few smile wrinkles and was never known to use harsher or more profane words than "I swan" or "By zounds." His wife was just like him in every way. A neat little pudgy sort of a body that referred every difficult problem of life to "Pa Stump." They started with one wagon and two yoke of oxen; by the time we reached Sweetwater, past Laramie, two of his oxen had completely given out. To make a long story short he had to be assisted by the train. The captain ordered an examination of Stump's outfit. It seemed evident that his team was overloaded and that he, possibly, was hauling some heavy articles that might be dispensed with. In overhauling his baggage Captain Dunn found two full-sized brickbats, two flat irons and a grindstone, besides other articles of like heaviness and equal utility. I remember that Dunn threw out the brick and flat irons and old Stump went and picked them up and said, "By zounds, gentlemen, you shan't throw away my stuff; when we get out thar them brick'll come mighty handy to scour knives on and whar can you get others?" Somewhere in Utah our train divided; part went to California and we saw them no more. Seven families, including my father's, came on to Oregon. It was on Snake River, just beyond the Grand Ronde Valley, that two mean-looking Indians rode up near our camp, unsaddled their ponies, without saying a word, and began preparing their bed for the night. We had just finished our supper. Capt. Dunn came over to our wagon and said to Father, "I do not like the looks of those fellows; get a few scraps together and give [them] to them, and after they have eaten we will request them to move out of our camp." The tablecloth, a piece of canvas spread on the ground, was covered with the bones and fragments left over from our meal. Father beckoned to the Indians, and pointing at the table, motioned them to come and eat. They approached and squatted down opposite each other, but before proceeding farther the elder one of the two removed an old and much-worn hat from his head, and raising his hands and casting his eyes upwards, said in good, plain English, substantially, "Great Father, we thank thee and pray that thou will bless our white friends, and guide them on their journey and be with them throughout all the walks of life and finally save us all," etc., etc. Capt. Dunn was not a religious man, but when the blessing was ended, he said: "Doc [Colvig], I guess those fellows are all right, and we need not disturb them tonight." These Indians were from the Whitman reservation and were going out to pick up wagons and household goods which had been discarded by the emigrants in order to lighten their loads on the last end of the journey.
    When we reached old Fort Hall we had six oxen left and were compelled to leave the big wagon. We reached Portland on the 5th day of October 1851, that is, the family did, while Father was three weeks later in getting across the Cascades with the wagon and team. At Portland we found an old friend, Thomas Carter, who lived on a donation farm covering over that portion of the city where the city hall, customs house, courthouse and Hotel Portland are now situated. We remained there over the winter, Carter wanting Father to take up a donation claim out near Mt. Tabor, but Father said: "Tom, I haven't crossed the continent from old Virginia and come out here to settle in a fir forest." So, in the spring we again hitched up old "John and Charley" to our wagon and came to Winchester in Douglas County, before making any stop. Here we found the old friend who I see sitting before me in this audience, Col. Bill Martin. We were pretty hard up, but the Colonel was willing to share what he had. Said he: "Doc, just move out there into my cabin on the ranch and stay there till you have time to look about," and "Say, Doc, there is a lot of truck growing in the patch there, which if the little fellows here will weed out and hoe around, will give you what vegetables you need." This was a temptation, for a fact. The summer before had been spent on the plains where we had not seen a garden, nor during which time we had not had any sort of garden vegetables to eat.
    Col. Bill's farm was between Winchester and Roseburg, and about three-fourths of a mile south of the former place and in what is known as the deepest "sticky" in the world. In the summertime the heat of the sun causes the earth to crack open, and all over the surface of the ground you see great fissures running in all directions and often of a width from four to eight inches and a depth of two feet. Well, we moved onto the farm, and I can yet remember how industriously myself and brothers worked over that little "truck patch." It was July. The melon vines were beginning to run. Nice little black watermelons were thickly dotted over the ground, some of them almost big enough to thump. What a hopeful anticipation to boys who had been on the plains the whole summer before! Only a few more days to wait and they would be all right! But alas for human expectations! A hot spell ensued and the earth commenced cracking open. One by one the melons disappeared into the deep crevices. We still had hopes! We would pull them up and thump them, but at last there came a heavy rainstorm. The cracks all closed up. The ground was smooth and black. Not a melon in sight! We lost nearly the whole crop. Found a few when we were digging our potatoes in the fall! They were about 20 inches below the surface. I am fortunate in having Mrs. Plymale here in my audience today. She is Col. Martin's daughter. We made mud pies together in 1852, and she will vouch for anything I may say about the characteristics of that farm.
    In October 1852, after digging our melons, we moved out as far as Canyonville in Douglas County and took up a donation land claim, "one mile square," or 640 acres. We would have gone farther south, but the Canyon Mountains seemed too formidable for one one yoke of oxen. So we had to stop. The twelve miles of road through the "canyon" followed a swift mountain stream, crossing and recrossing it a great many times. In 1853 the government of the United States undertook the construction of a military wagon road through the southern part of the Territory. Col. Joe Hooker, who afterwards fought the "Battle in the Clouds" at Lookout Mountain, was in charge of the work at Canyonville. I remember him quite well. He put in most of his time playing "seven-up" for the drinks at the hotel bar while the boys were straightening out things up in the canyon. My father was postmaster in 1853, and mail day was a big event. It transpired once a week, but not on any day certain. B. F. Dowell, whose name is familiar to all pioneers, was the mail contractor and also the carrier. His route was from Jacksonville to Oakland, Oregon. He rode one mule and led another, upon which the mail was packed. The irregularity of mail day was on account of the mules straying from camp, occasioning a loss of a day or two of time in hunting them up. News from the "states" was fresh if received not more than three months after date. I remember one time, about January 1853, my father put me on a pony and sent me some miles distant to borrow a St. Louis Dispatch that was reported to have been received by the neighbor, and rumor said that it contained authentic news of Pierce's election as President of the United States. My father was a Whig and wanted to hear that General Scott was the lucky man. I got the paper, but under a strict promise to bring it back next day.
    Our first school in that neighborhood was taught by a man named Samuel Strong, who, on account of his great weakness for strong drink, was required to enter into an undertaking that if he got drunk during the term his pay was forfeited. Poor Sam! He earned his wages, but afterwards died here in Jacksonville with the delirium tremens. He now sleeps upon the hill. The Canyonville school in those days was somewhat difficult to manage. I remember that I. N. Choynski, the father of Joe, the pugilist, taught one term there and started in to teach another, but he wasn't as good a fighter as Joe, and the boys "knocked him out." Then the present United States commissioner of the general land office, Binger Hermann, came along broke and was employed to teach us. He shook hands with us every morning and by the suavity of his manner won our hearts, and we let him remain two terms. The Hon. Rufus Mallory, who had come out here from Iowa to die with the consumption, also wielded the birch in this school. Afterwards he went to Congress and is yet an honored citizen of the state.
    The first church building erected in the Territory south of Salem was the present Methodist Church of Jacksonville, Oregon. It was commenced in 1853. The Rev. Joseph Smith, otherwise known as "Carving-Fork" Smith, had been sent out here in the spring of 1853 to labor among the miners of Jackson Creek. He was an able man intellectually, but did not seem to understand the knack of dealing with such a sportive community as the gold excitement had brought together at this point, so after a brief sojourn he became discouraged and returned to Salem. Married Josephine Carter, a sister of Senator Grover's wife. Took up the study of law and, contrary to experience in that profession, became wealthy, and in later years was elected a delegate to Congress from this territory. During the short time he was here he succeeded in getting the frame of a church building erected on a site near the present location of Con. Kane's residence. In the fall of 1853 a preacher by the name of Royal, otherwise known as "Limpy" Royal, came in with the emigration of that year and took up the work that Smith had abandoned. Royal was a royal fellow with the "boys" and knew how to deal with them. Clugage, the proprietor of the town site, gave the present church lots, and Royal had the framework which Smith had left torn down and removed. Thos. Pyle and Jas. McDonough took the contract of building it, and our townsman, David Linn, assisted them. The Rev. Royal then commenced a campaign for building funds. He had a familiar way with the "boys." Would saunter into a gambling hall, stand around awhile watching the Sunday morning games and then he would say: "Boys, when you get through with the deal let's all go down and listen to a little preaching," and the boys would generally turn out to hear him. One day he walked into the leading saloon of the place, where Charley Williams, Ad. Helms and other were engaged at a game of faro. Said he: "Boys, we must have some help in building our church, and I want you fellows to give us a lift." "But," remarked Helms, the dealer, "you would not use money got in this way for such a purpose, would you?" "Oh, yes," replied Royal, "and we would turn it to a better use." Thereupon Williams, in order to test the preacher's sense of duty under the circumstances, spoke up and said: "All right, I'll lay a ten in the pot on this faro deal; if it wins, you take it all," "And," said the dealer, "if she loses, old man, the ten shall be yours anyway." It won. Helms threw up the other ten. Royal took the two coins and "the little church across the way" is in part a result of the better use of that money. [Thomas Fletcher Royal's donation records survive. "
An exact copy of all subscriptions, headings, names, amounts, and for what purposes" (Royal's words) is transcribed here. Charley Williams is credited with donating $5; Helms is not mentioned.]
    When we take a comparative view of the wild freedom of life in those early years, its careless simplicity and utter lack of caste or social distinctions, we almost regret the present advanced position into which we have been crowded. We boys all went dressed in buckskin breeches. You couldn't wear them out. When we outgrew them, at least it was so in our family, they went on down the line to the boy next in size, and if there was any special reason why they should look clean Mother would send us down to the riverbank, where we had a kind of an "otter slide" in the sand, and we would slide until they were thoroughly scoured.
    Speaking of buckskin breeches and the way to renovate them reminds me of a story which I heard Louis Barnes, one of the oldtimers, tell. It is the story of the first woman on Althouse. It was when women were scarce on the coast and none had yet found their way into that mining camp. News came to the "diggin's" that "Six-Toed Pete's" pack train would arrive in a few hours, and that a real, live white woman was coming in with him. One by one the boys stole away to their cabins. Their wardrobes were limited. Some of the more fortunate had among the few articles brought from the "states" possibly a vest, which had once been a Sunday affair back in the old home. A shirt front, in those days called a "dickey," which had not been "done up" since crossing the plains. Each put on what he had in the way of a "tony" rig and sat, with patient expectation, awaiting the arrival. Some of those men had seen better days. They had an abundance of gold, but there was no store in the country where they could use it in buying good clothes for this supreme occasion. "Doc" Bonner was a New York man. His desire to look well, and to show off, was very great, but he was poorly equipped. In fact, he had no clothing except what he had on, which consisted of a gray woolen shirt, a pair of government drawers and "buckskin" breeches. The latter were so covered with grease and dirt as to be unpresentable. The boys all knew Doc's plight, and also knew that if he were rigged out he'd monopolize the fair one's whole attention, for Doc had been a dude "back East." So the boys, when Doc came to borrow of them, wisely said: "I'm sorry, but I have no clothes except what I have on." Doc was in mental distress. "Schooner-head" Brown, a loquacious old Yankee sailor, dropped in to condole with him. It was nearly time for the train to arrive. Brown says to him: "Say, Doc, why don't you bile them breeches? I'll bring the grease out, and you can rub them dry in a short time and they'll look as good as new." A large kettle of water was soon in readiness; in it went the breeches and Brown sat there, drinking with Doc every few minutes, spinning a long sea yarn and poking up the fire at the pauses. Finally he said: "Doc, I guess them pants are done." Doc took the poker to lift them out. They were cooked, thoroughly cooked till they were tender, and the whole thing curled up into a knot like a boiled bacon rind. "Schooner-head" had wisely departed to his own cabin. Doc was furiously mad. The train was entering camp! Sure enough, there was a woman! She was riding the "bell mare." As the train came into camp the boys all turned out and stood posing by the roadside, except Doc Bonner; he only poked his head out from a window and with an anxious gaze took in the situation. Four days later he ventured out to her camp, arrayed in a pair of pantaloons which he had rudely constructed from an old government blanket, the brand "U.S." occupying a prominent position in the rear.
"Pioneer Address, Delivered by Wm. Colvig at the annual meeting of the Southern Oregon Pioneers, Jacksonville, September 1st, 1898," unidentified clipping, Southern Oregon Pioneers minutes 1876-1936 page 140, Southern Oregon Historical Society MS 517, box 2.  Colvig revisited this speech in 1913, transcribed below.

    Mrs. Clara Birdseye and her son, Mr. Fred Birdseye, of Rock Point precinct, are visiting Mrs. W. M. Colvig.
"Jacksonville Items," Ashland Tidings, September 5, 1898, page 3

    The Oregonian of Monday, which is printing biographies of Oregon pioneers, on Monday gave its readers an excellent photograph of one of our leading citizens, to which was annexed the following: "Hon. W. M. Colvig was born in Ray County, Mo., Sept. 2, 1845. He crossed the plains to Portland in 1851, and went to Douglas County in 1852. He enlisted in the Union army at Camp Baker, Jackson County, April 5, 1863, served three years and was discharged April 5, 1866. For several years he was a prominent educator in Jackson County. He served two terms as county school superintendent and three terms as district attorney. He is now a prosperous lawyer. He delivered the annual address at the pioneer reunion in Jacksonville, September 1."

"Local Notes," Democratic Times, Jacksonville, September 22, 1898, page 3

    Memorial services were held at the Workmen hall, Wednesday evening, under the auspices of the Banner Lodge, No. 23, A.O.U.W. A large crowd of invited guests were present. The following program was rendered: Invocation by Rev. S. H. Jones; song, "Gathering Home," by Misses Muller, Bryant, Colvig, Messrs. Thompson and Barnes and Mrs. G. Newbury; address, Wm. Colvig. The audience then repaired to the banquet room and enjoyed a most excellent lunch. Then followed a song by Miss Susie Applegate and brothers; recitation, Verne Whipp; song, "See-Saw," by Lena Ulrich, accompanied by Miss Emma Ulrich on organ and Miss Birdie Schmidt on mandolin; recitations, Gertrude Whipp and Vance Colvig; duet, Misses Muller and Helen Colvig; recitation, "Chariot Race," Miss Genevieve Reames; cornet duet, Prof. Schmidt and Miss Schmidt; song by the choir, "Till We Meet Again"; mandolin selection, Leon Hanna; song, "Grandfather's Spectacles," Emma Wendt. The exercises were nicely arranged and the performers did nicely.
"Jacksonville News," Medford Mail, January 20, 1899, page 3

    The wedding of Clarence L. Reames and Miss Clara Colvig took place at noon on Thursday last,  at the home of the bride's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Wm. M. Colvig, on Oregon Street, and was a very charming affair. But few persons were present, and they were either members of the families of the contracting parties or very intimate friends. Mr. Reames is the junior member of the firm of Reames Bros., of Gold Hill, and very popular with his fellow men. The bride is a highly cultured and very refined young lady. Rev. S. H. Jones performed the ceremony, and Zela White and Master Vance Colvig acted as bridesmaid and best man. Mr. and Mrs. Reames left immediately for Gold Hill, where a cozy home had been fitted up for the happy couple.

"Jacksonville News," Medford Mail, December 29, 1899, page 3

Oregon Street, Jacksonville, Oregon

William M. Colvig, 54, lawyer, born Mo. Sept. 1845, father born Va., mother Ohio
Addie V. Colvig, 44, born Ore. Jan. 1856, father born Ohio, mother Va.
Hellen M. Colvig, 17, born Ore. Feb. 1883
Mary F. Colvig, 13, born Ore. Dec. 1886
Donald L. Colvig, 11, born Ore. Nov. 1888
Vance D. Colvig, 7, born Ore. Sept. 1892
Annie Birdsey, 13, born Ore. Nov. 1885, niece
U.S. Census, enumerated June 5, 1900

    Hon. W. M. Colvig made a speech at the opera house Saturday to a large audience. The band played, the glee club sang, torches blazed and a free train was run from Jacksonville. Our Republican brethren are making a great deal of fuss over Mr. Colvig's apostasy, in the hope that it will be of much benefit to their cause. We think Sweet William expects to get the best of his "flop" himself, however.
"Medford Squibs," Democratic Times, Jacksonville, October 22, 1900, page 3

Medford's Big Demonstration.
    Last Saturday evening this town of Medford was very properly stirred up. The occasion was the public speaking at the opera house, where Hon. W. M. Colvig addressed the largest audience that has congregated in Jackson County during the [presidential] campaign, save when Hon. Binger Hermann spoke. The house upon both these occasions was crowded to its fullest capacity.
    The torchlight procession was no small feature of the occasion. There were just an even hundred torches in line, and these carried by voters. There were not to exceed an half dozen boys carrying torches. The procession was led by Sheriff Orme and F. M. Stewart, the latter carrying "Old Glory," and following them was the Medford band, then came the men with torches.
    At the opera house Mr. Colvig said in part:
    "I am a Democrat and one who did not vilify Mr. Lincoln when he lived, and now after the verdict of 35 years, canonize him as Adlai Stevenson and other Bryan supporters are doing. There is no assurance that these same men will not in the mutation of events in like manner be sounding the praises of Wm. McKinley. Every great nation has had its growth through conquest and battlefields. National and racial expansion are based upon and grow out of natural laws which cannot be stayed or controlled by legislation. Intelligence is power and power will rule, and no consideration of moral, local or international law can prevent it. Men are free and equal only in theory; in fact, they are largely the creatures of heredity and environment. Hedge it about and handicap it as you will, Caucasian blood will rule. Capacity and capability for control and self-government are among its distinctive characteristics. Hawaii is an illustration. A handful of Caucasians overthrew the monarchy and established a free government without asking the consent of the governed. Consent of the governed means consent of equal persons qualified to exercise it. Men can only enjoy the measure of liberty of which they are capable. The degree of freedom a people may enjoy depends upon their stage of development. Freedom unappreciated runs into riot and anarchy. Environment solidified the South, and a common sentiment was believed to be necessary for the protection of common interests.
    "There is a lame cog in the 'paramount' plank of the Bryan platform. From what is heard from every Democratic stump in the land it appears to have been built on Thos. Jefferson. This is why it is lame. Jefferson was an expansionist in the fullest sense, and was called imperialist by his opponents. He believed in acquiring and governing territory whether by the consent of its inhabitants or not. He took the responsibility of buying Louisiana without any express authority, and is the only President who openly avowed the commission of an important public act outside of the Constitution. The right to take this country and extend jurisdiction over its inhabitants was never questioned. The stronger race drove them from their lands, placed them upon limited reservations and governed them. Joshua of old was commanded to lead Israel over the Jordan and take possession of the promised land. In order to obey the command he was obliged to kill or drive out the Canaanites who possessed it. Joshua was, therefore, by divine authority the first expansionist, and so far from asking the consent of the governed he slew or drove the inhabitants from the country.
    "Before the declaration of war with Spain, the Democratic Party north and south clamored for interference in behalf of the oppressed Cubans and charged the President with cowardice and want of appreciation of the struggles of the oppressed. He was declared to be a man insensible to wrong and immovable when he should be most active." Mr. Colvig asked pardon for using a quotation that was more forceful than elegant, and said, "The Democrats were 'hell for war in time of peace, and hell for peace in time of war.' The possession of the Philippines, and the conditions growing out of it, were the inevitable results of the war demanded by the Democratic Party. The United States could not now honorably withdraw and give the islands over to anarchy and misrule. The insurrection must be suppressed, a stable government established, and the natives given such liberty as will best conduce to their progress and happiness.
    "Mr. Bryan is committed to the establishment of a coaling station and a protectorate over the islands, and opposed to the war for the suppression of the insurrection. Suppose he is elected. What will be the instructions of the American people to Mr. McKinley? Obviously to cease war and recall the troops. Suppose he obeys the public will as expressed at the polls and withdraws from the islands, then what? When Mr. Bryan goes over there to mark out his coaling station and establish his protectorate, Aguinaldo will say to him: 'This is our country, and we are not issuing coaling stations or courting protectorates. We are qualified to run our own concerns, and it will best conduce to your health to take your belongings and quit the islands.' If then Mr. Bryan determined to enforce his police he would be obliged to do just what Mr. McKinley is doing now, namely, to enforce his authority in the islands. The safe policy is to let well enough alone and vote for McKinley and Roosevelt."

Medford Mail, October 26, 1900, page 2

    Attorney W. M. Colvig, of Jacksonville, is prepared to give special attention to divorce law, probate law and mining law, as well as attend to other law matters--in any and all courts of the state.

"City Happenings," Medford Mail, December 14, 1900, page 7

    Representative Colvig this afternoon made a requisition upon the Secretary of State for a pocket-knife. In doing this he acted solely for himself, and proposed to thus get the advantage of his follow members. Under Secretary of State McBride it was the rule to present each member of the Legislature with an elegant pocket-knife, paid for by the state. That custom has fallen into disuse, and members have found it necessary to bring
their knives, go without or buy one out of their own pockets. But Representative Colvig thought his good looks would entitle him to special favors, and he made his plea for a knife without fear or trembling. His request was granted. In a neat speech, appropriate to the occasion, Secretary Dunbar presented Mr. Colvig with an elegant little knife, with a bright new blade and a cherry handle. Attached to the knife was a strong steel
chain about two feet long. The whole affair probably cost 5 cents: Mr. Colvig was given the strict charge that he give back the knife before returning to his home in far-away Jackson County.
"A Slate on Clerks," Oregonian, Portland, January 18, 1901, page 4

    The able representative from Josephine County is of pioneer parentage. He was born in Parksville, Missouri, November 12, 1848, and at the age of two crossed the plains with his parents, Dr. Wm. and Helen M. Colvig, both of whom are now deceased. The winter of 1851 was passed in Portland and the following spring the family removed to Douglas County. Mr. Colvig received his education in the public schools, ex-Congressman Rufus Mallory and Binger Hermann being among his teachers. Upon attaining his majority he followed telegraphy, and a portion of the time was also agent of the Southern Pacific Railroad, serving the latter as train dispatcher and agent at the front during the construction of the road from Myrtle Creek to Glendale, and subsequently as agent and operator at Riddle. He took up the study of law and was admitted to the bar in 1890. For a time he was located in Jacksonville, then Roseburg, and then removed to Grants Pass, where he continues to practice his profession. During his stay in Douglas County, its citizens elected him senator from that county in 1876 and in 1882, two successive terms. He was elected to his present position in 1900. He has also served as state railroad commissioner for the term of four years. His wife was formerly a Miss Mary Dyer, daughter of Jefferson and Jane Dyer, who crossed the plains in 1860.
Oregon Native Son, March 1901, page 478

    "A very enjoyable little party was given at the home of Hon. and Mrs. G. W. Colvig last Saturday evening in honor of Mrs. Emma Ellison, of Galveston, Texas, Mr. Colvig's cousin. Whist was the feature of the evening, followed by delicious refreshments."--Grants Pass Observer.

"Additional Local," Medford Mail, March 22, 1901, page 6

    The Reading Circle met last Friday afternoon at the home of Mrs. Wm. Colvig. The reader, Mrs. Geo. DeBar, read several selections, which were very much enjoyed by the company. Delicious refreshments were served. Those present were Mesdames J. W. Robinson, T. G. Reames, and guest W. Reames of Gold Hill, Geo. DeBar, Geo. Neil, Jas. Beach, Wm. Colvig and Miss Carrie Beekman.
"Jacksonville News," Medford Mail, April 19, 1901, page 3

    Hon. Geo. W. Colvig has returned from Washington, D.C., where he went to receive his instructions and take the regular consul examination, preparatory to leaving for his post of duty at Barranquilla. He will start for his new home May 29th, accompanied by Mrs. Colvig and his niece, Miss Dora Colvig.

"City Happenings," Medford Mail, May 17, 1901, page 7

    Miss Nellie DePeatt, formerly Postal Telegraph operator in this city, will go to Barranquilla with Hon. and Mrs. Geo. W. Colvig, instead of Miss Dora Colvig, who will retain her position in the Grants Pass public schools.
"City Happenings," Medford Mail, May 24, 1901, page 7

    Hon. and Mrs. G. W. Colvig, accompanied by Miss Nellie DePeatt, passed through Medford Tuesday evening en route to Barranquilla, Colombia.

"Purely Personal," Medford Mail, May 31, 1901, page 6

    Fred Colvig, son of Consul Geo W. Colvig, graduated from the pharmaceutical department of the Oregon Agricultural College, last week.

"City Happenings," Medford Mail, June 21, 1901, page 7

    Hon. William Colvig and daughter, of Jacksonville, Oregon, visited at John Beekman's this week.
"Purely Personal," The Plaindealer, Bath, New York, June 23, 1901, page 2

    Mrs. Wm. Colvig returned Tuesday from Portland, where she has been for several weeks receiving medical treatment. She is much improved in health.

"Jacksonville News,"
Medford Mail, September 13, 1901, page 3

    The latest novelty in the social realm in Jacksonville was a "spinster tea," given by Miss Helen Colvig, at her home on Oregon Street, last Saturday afternoon. The young ladies present were dressed in the traditional spinster costumes, and each lady was required to give a history of her first courtship, also give reasons why she remained a spinster. A guessing contest was indulged in in which Miss Olive Huffer won first prize and Miss Mabel Prim consolation. Those present report a splendid time and were Misses Iris Cook, Mabel and Maud Prim, Josie Donegan, Olive Huffer, Edith Priest, Myrtle Sutton, Lillie Taylor and Bertha Orme.

"Jacksonville News," Medford Mail, November 22, 1901, page 3

    William M. Colvig, alias "William the Smooth," is out campaigning in behalf of W. J. Furnish. This course is perfectly natural. One 4-year-old Republican will always rally to the assistance of another 4-year-old. Besides, Furnish and Colvig match in other points than that of age. For instance, each stayed in the Democratic Party until it was clearly evident that he could no longer get office there, and then turned Republican "on principle."--Medford Enquirer.

The Daily Journal, Salem, May 24, 1902, page 11

    Miss Helen M. Colvig has returned from a three weeks' stay in Portland.
"Jacksonville News," Medford Mail, July 4, 1902, page 3

    Salem has prepared to have the biggest celebration on the Fourth of any town in the Willamette Valley, and that city paid Jackson County the honor of inviting Hon. Wm. Colvig to deliver the oration for them. Mr. Colvig has a state reputation as an orator, and has the broadness of mind and the thorough knowledge of current events that will enable him to make a Fourth of July speech, and not have it of the stereotyped order that so often is the case with orations prepared for that day.

"City Happenings," Medford Mail, July 4, 1902, page 7

    Hon. W. M. Colvig returned from Salem Sunday, where he delivered the oration on the Fourth. Mr. Colvig said that it rained with Willamette Valley vigor at Salem on the Fourth, and that when he delivered his address it was to three thousand umbrellas. The rain almost drowned the parade, and the Goddess of Liberty at its close looked like a mermaid just fished from the bottom of the deep blue sea.

"Purely Personal," Medford Mail, July 11, 1902, page 6

    Don Colvig is spending a week with relatives at Canyonville.
"Jacksonville News," Medford Mail, July 18, 1902, page 3

    Lawrence and Inez Colvig, of Canyonville, are visiting their cousin, Donald Colvig.
"Jacksonville News," Medford Mail, July 25, 1902, page 3

    Mrs. Addie B. Colvig was elected Grand Lady of Honor at the recent election of grand lodge, D. of H., at Portland.
"Jacksonville News," Medford Mail, August 1, 1902, page 3

    Hon. W. M. Colvig of Jacksonville, who owns some sightly lots in the western part of Medford, will have a handsome residence built on them in the near future.
"Local Notes," Democratic Times, Jacksonville, August 7, 1902, page 6

    Helen M. Colvig left Saturday for Foots Creek to spend a week with her grandmother, Mrs. Clara Birdseye.
    Miss Helen M. Colvig charmingly entertained her young friends at a "Summer Girl's Party" on Saturday evening.
"Jacksonville News," Medford Mail, August 8, 1902, page 3

    Miss Helen Colvig, of Jacksonville, was visiting her cousin, Miss Addie Jones, Sunday.
"Woodville Items," Medford Mail, August 8, 1902, page 3

    Miss Helen Colvig and Misses Addie and Mary Jones visited Bybee Springs Wednesday.

"Woodville Items," Medford Mail, August 15, 1902, page 3

    A. M. Cannon, until lately a prominent attorney of Albany, has taken offices in the Medford Bank building. He will form a partnership with Hon. W. M. Colvig of Jacksonville.
"Local Notes," Democratic Times, Jacksonville, August 21, 1902, page 5

    Helen M. Colvig returned last Thursday from a two weeks' vacation spent at Foots Creek, Woodville and Bybee Springs.
"Jacksonville News," Medford Mail, August 29, 1902, page 3

An Event in Society.
    Miss Helen Colvig gave a linen shower, complimentary to Miss Mabel Prim, at her home in Jacksonville Friday evening, from 3 to 6. Many beautiful linen presents were made. The afternoon was devoted to husband-finding and fortune-telling. A splendid luncheon was discussed, at which the prospective bride was cleverly toasted. Misses Barnes and Sutton ably responded to the toasts "The Bride" and "Honeymoons.” Music concluded the event. The guests were: Mrs. C. L. Reames, Misses Linn, Armstrong, Young, Ulrich, Nickell, Cook, Wendt, Reames, Sutton, Barnes, Huffer, Krause, Orme, Robinson, Taylor, Barber, Orth, Keegan, Marie Nickell.
Democratic Times, Jacksonville, April 15, 1903, page 1

A Tale of Thrilling Experiences Undergone by the Earliest Settlers of Jacksonville and Vicinity as Told by One of the Pupils of the Jacksonville High School.

    You would probably smile if I were to tell you that less than fifty years ago the well-to-do bridegroom took his bride on horseback on their wedding trip. Nevertheless that was the case with most of the early Oregonians who intended to make their future homes in the southern part of the state.
    My grandparents, who were married in Portland in June 1853, started for Southern Oregon the day following their wedding. The route, although over the same ground where all of Western Oregon's most prosperous cities and towns are now, was somewhat different then. Progress was extremely slow, as there was but the faintest trail where now there are a great number of houses and extensive grain fields.
    At noon one day while crossing the Calapooia Mountains, when they stopped for lunch they were able to sit down and gather all the wild strawberries they wished, without moving. The wild fruit at that time was unsurpassed in flavor and size.
    Just think of the young bride of today riding several hundreds of miles, from the bustle of the city into a country where she would be the only white woman within a radius of several scores of miles, and only being able to take with her such articles as could be packed on one or two small ponies!
    When the Indians saw so many whites settling up their lands they became hostile and troublesome, and my grandfather [David Nelson Birdseye], who had bought a homestead right of a man named Mulligan, which was situated on the banks of the beautiful Rogue River, together with the assistance of a few others, were compelled for their own safety as well as that of their families to erect a fort. Previous to this, however [during the 1853 war], the women, who were very few in number and who were scattered along through the valley, had all been taken to Jacksonville, a mining town which had sprung up, and which was the only place in that part of the state at that time, where a company of soldiers had headquarters. [No soldiers were stationed in Jacksonville.] It was necessary to have everything ready in case the treacherous Indians should break out. Some of the women objected when they had to leave their homes. One woman said: "Give me and Mandy a gun and we'll fight Indians. We're not going to leave." But when the time came they were only too glad to go.
    Often have I heard my grandmother [Clarissa Fleming Birdseye] tell of her trip to Jacksonville, when she, on horseback and surrounded by a circle of men also on horseback, rode along, expecting at any time to be fired on by the Indians from behind some rock or tree. All along the road they passed the smoldering camp fires which were still burning, the Indians having just within an hour or so before left camp.
    Tools which they used to prepare timbers for the fort were very scarce and at the same time very unlike the modern inventions of today, which made it a work of time to put up a building of any great size. The one of which I am going to write was composed of a rudely constructed house or cabin, surrounded by a palisade of huge posts. The logs for the house part were put together very roughly, mud being put in the cracks to keep out some of the cold. [The current house was built in 1856 after the Indians were removed to reservations, reportedly using timbers taken from the palisade.] The floor was made of the same material, only the logs were hewn flat into a kind of plank, which when put together was termed a "puncheon floor." The roof was made of slabs or boards which were split out by hand. For the posts, which were for protection, a deep trench was dug, and the large logs which were sawed about fourteen feet in length were placed in the trench, on end, one beside the other as close as they could be put. This was filled in with earth, which was tramped very solid around the posts, to make them secure. Small holes were cut between the logs at intervals around the wall, for loopholes.
    The red men became more and more hostile, until it reached a point when if anyone stepped out of his door, he was in danger of his life. At that time (1854 and 1855), old Sam was war chief, and his followers were scattered from what is now known as Sams Valley, named in honor of him, who was previous to this time peace chief, to the present site of the town of Woodville.
    When my grandparents bought their right to the old homestead, it was staked out on both sides of the river, in order to get good bottom land, but when the reserve was set aside by the government for the Indians, they compelled the settlers to vacate the land on the left [north] side of the river and take up enough back on the hills to make out their one hundred and sixty acres. That was the reason for old Sam's people being so badly scattered.
    Shortly after the fort was completed my grandfather was put in command by the government to serve rations to the soldiers, and to use the fort for the soldiers' headquarters. My grandmother, not having been brought up to do housework, found it very much to her disadvantage to prepare food and lodging for the miners and transients who almost every night filled the old fort. Many times have I heard her tell of her experiences in learning the art of cooking. Everything was very high at that time. Meals brought $1 apiece, and were composed chiefly of beans, bacon, reflector-baked bread, and probably some kind of dried fruit, all of which was brought through from the north by pack trains.
    It was not an unusual thing to see several Indians around during the day, but it was always noticed that they never tarried later than sundown. One morning, very early, an old squaw, who was quite a friend of my grandmother, together with her brother, a large, straight, surly-looking Indian, was seen on the premises, but nothing particular was conjectured until night came on and still they loitered. The squaw, whom the whites called "Sally," acted all the while as if she had something on her mind, but when asked what the matter was, she put her hands over her mouth and said: "No can tell, heap afraid," and that was all they could get her to say. Everyone knew that she was one of old Sam's tribe, and having been expecting at any time to be attacked, Mary's [sic--"Sally" is referred to as "Mary" from here on] actions were especially observed. Along in the evening, quite awhile after dark, Mary called her brother to one side, and after quite a long consultation between the two the red man departed. Immediately the neighbors were notified that an attack was expected and for them to congregate at the fort. By 9 or 10 o'clock that evening a large number had arrived, during which time Mary had come in the house crying as if her heart would break and on approaching my grandmother fell in her arms and in a sobbing voice said: "Me go away now; no can stay too long," after which she wrenched herself loose and flew out of the door as if she were bewitched, before anyone could ask any further questions. During the whole night and until late next morning the occupants of the fort, with ready muskets, were momentarily expecting to hear the stealthy tread of the red men, and their final war whoop, which would be the signal of attack. Fires were seen in the distance--probably some of the flames were arising from the homes of those who were in the fort. Other fires were high up on the mountains, while not a spark of fire was seen nor the slightest sound was heard in their vicinity.
    When morning came, some of the men concluded they would get on their horses and proceed to find out how many depredations the Indians had perpetrated. On their way to the pasture, for their horses, they could plainly see the tracks of the Indians' Cayuse ponies, which were left by the warriors as they descended the sides of the mountains, having made a circle upon the high lands to get out of range of the fort. When they reached the place where their horses were, they were very much surprised to find that two of them were missing, but when they again saw the familiar tracks of the Indian ponies, they were at once convinced of their whereabouts. They rode down the river, and all that was left of their farm houses was a mass of charred and smoldering timbers.
    Not a living piece of humanity met their gaze, until they came to what is now known as the old Schieffelin place. Here the red men had crossed the river and fallen upon an old Frenchman who has taken an Indian woman for his wife. They took the woman prisoner, scalped the Frenchman in his own cabin and beat their child's brains out around the corner of the house. [This most resembles the attack on the Haines house, thirty miles away. The Schieffelins lost some horses, but sustained no further loss.] Below this place where the Indians had crossed, on the right-hand side of the river, what few settlers had escaped the hands of the cruel warriors had found a place of refuge. Pitiful stories came from the lips of those poor creatures, as they told about their escape and of the terrible miseries which either their husbands, wives, brothers, sisters or they themselves had experienced. The women when captured, if they would not give up, were scalped without hesitation, the same as the men.
    By this time the government soldiers who were in Jacksonville had been notified as well as the remainder of the volunteers, and were in hot pursuit of old Sam and his bloodthirsty followers. [The government soldiers were stationed at Fort Lane; Sam was not involved in the war of 1855-56.] After an exciting skirmish at what is now known as Bloody Run, the Indians were pursued, captured and compelled to surrender, after which they were put under heavy guard and transferred to headquarters and later to the different reservations. [There was no skirmish at the Jones homestead at Bloody Run; the Indians didn't surrender until nearly eight months later.]
    The reason the Indians did not attack Fort Birdseye was not really known until about a month afterward, when one day Mary, whom everyone had reason to believe had been murdered, but who was still at liberty, appeared at the palisade and asked for admission. When she was allowed to come in she could not control herself enough to let them know what she wished. When asked why she did not talk, she shook her head and pointing to her mouth tried to make them understand she could not talk. Finally her speech returned and she laid the whole plot before the listeners. It was as follows: When Mary saw so many white men arriving at the fort, and at the same time having a warm spot in her heart for her white friends, she had gone and told old Sam and the rest of her people that if they attempted to attack the fort they would undoubtedly be outnumbered and captured. Therefore the red men, who feared the large number of whites, although they were not as many as Mary had explained to old Sam, had shunned the fort by circling around the foothills, instead of going directly down the river, for the fort was situated under two massive black oak trees not more than a hundred yards from the edge of the water.
    After the Indians were conquered and removed to the reservation, the old fort was of course of little use, but was used as as dwelling until a more suitable habitation could be erected. Anyone who at the present time visits the site were it once stood can plainly see its exact location by the indentations, which mark the place where the huge posts once stood.--George R. Birdseye, Ninth Grade.
Oregon Sentinel, Jacksonville, May 15, 1903, pages 4-5

    Dr. R. G. Gale and Miss Helen Colvig, prominent society people of Jacksonville, were united in matrimony Thursday, at high noon, in the presence of relatives and a few invited friends. Rev. T. E. Daughters of Grants Pass officiated. The happy couple left the same evening for Portland, and will take the steamer in a few days for California, where they will spend the honeymoon. We tender our congratulations and best wishes, in unison with many friends.
Democratic Times, Jacksonville, June 3, 1903, page 2

    One of the prettiest weddings that Jacksonville has seen for some time was solemnized at high noon on Thursday, May 28th, at the residence of Hon. and Mrs. Wm. Colvig, when their daughter, Helen, was united in marriage to Dr. R. G. Gale. Rev. T. A. Daughters, pastor of the Episcopal church, of Grants Pass, officiated, following the impressive ring ceremony which was witnessed only by relatives and a few immediate friends of the contracting parties. The Colvig house was tastefully decorated with ivy and a profusion of roses. As the bridal party entered the parlor, the beautiful strains of the wedding march from Mendelssohn was played by Gertrude McCallen, of Ashland. The bride was attired in a pretty gown of white organdy over cream taffeta and carried bride's roses. After congratulations the bridal party and guests sat down to an elaborate luncheon, after which Dr. and Mrs. Gale left for Portland, where they will spend a few days, going to San Francisco by steamer and spending some time there. Many beautiful presents were received by the bride, who is a very charming and popular young lady. The bride's bouquet was caught by her sister, Miss Mary Colvig. Many good wishes and a shower of rice accompanied the happy couple. The invited guests were: Mr. and Mrs. Wesley Birdseye, Mrs. C. A. Birdseye, R. G. Harrison, Dr. and Mrs. W. I. Cameron, Mr. and Mrs. J. F. Miller; Misses Margaret Krause, Edith Webb, Gertrude McCallen and Ernest Welch.
"Jacksonville News," Medford Mail, June 5, 1903, page 3

New Law Firms.
    The firm of Colvig & Cannon has been dissolved. The former has formed a partnership with Geo. H. Durham, for a long time a prominent lawyer of Portland. They will have offices at Jacksonville and Grants Pass, Mr. Colvig remaining at his present residence, while Mr. Durham will reside at the last-named place. Mr. Cannon will continue practicing in all the courts of the state, with Medford as his headquarters.
Democratic Times, Jacksonville, July 8, 1903, page 1

His Honor Is Wounded.
    Wm. M. Colvig, the eminent attorney, is very much displeased because of the universal censure of Judge Hanna's action in allowing a $1000 fee in the Woods escheat case, and says that he will swat the first one who says it was a graft or accuses him of not earning his part of the fee. As a hot-air artist and political acrobat our friend has been an alarming success; but it was not supposed that he would extend his versatility to pugilistic lines. As usual, he attaches too much importance to himself. We doubt if anybody ever knew or cared whether or not Sweet William had any connection with the case, and his righteous indignation is as amusing as it is out of place. We always thought lawyers were like nearly everybody else and took all they could get. It was Judge Hanna's duty to see that a reasonable fee was allowed in the case; and that alone is the question under public discussion.
    Mr. Colvig says that he will take the stump in behalf of Judge Hanna. This would be another illustration of "save me from my friends.'' Still it would be in eternal fitness of things. Like his honor, he held office by the grace of the Democratic Party for a long time; but since it dropped into the minority it has lost all charms for both of them and they have transferred themselves to the Republican Party on the money and expansion questions.
Democratic Times, Jacksonville, May 18, 1904, page 1

    Mrs. Affie W. Cawley, a widow, 48 years of age, was found dead in her bed at her residence, 5861 Tremont Avenue, this morning by Mrs. S. W. Knowles, with whom she resided. The deceased was subject to epileptic fits.
    She was formerly a telegraph operator.
Oakland Tribune, June 11, 1904, page 3

    Wm. Colvig chaperoned a party of young boys on a camping trip to Squaw Lake. They left early Sunday morning. The party consisted of Mr. Colvig, Don and Vance Colvig, Charles Dunford, David Cronemiller and Jess Thrasher.

"Jacksonville News," Medford Mail, August 25, 1905, page 3

    Mr. Fred Birdseye and Mrs. William Curtiss, of Buffalo, N.Y., uncle and cousin of Mrs. William Colvig, are guests of the latter at her home on South Oregon Street. Mr. Birdseye resided in this valley in the early days but has made his home in Buffalo for the past thirty years.
"News from Jacksonville," Ashland Tidings, November 6, 1905, page 3

    Attorney W. M. Colvig, of Jacksonville, who has purchased residence property in Medford, will soon establish an office here. He has secured office room in the Medford National Bank's new building--ground floor--and just as soon as the building is completed he will fit up elaborate offices therein. He will have all of the ground floor not occupied by the bank, which will give him ample room to fit out a very fine suite of offices. His family will also move to Medford within a few weeks. He has also caused to be built an addition to his already very spacious home, near the school house. Mr. Colvig is well known in Medford as an able attorney and an honorable citizen, and his coming to Medford is a source of much gratification to his friends and the further fact that his most excellent family are to become residents of our town is also pleasing to those of our townspeople who are their acquaintances.
"Purely Personal," Medford Mail, October 19, 1906, page 4

    William J. Warner and Miss Mary Colvig were united in marriage at the residence of the bride's parents, Hon. and Mrs. W. M. Colvig, on [Laurel] street, Rev. Robt. Ennis, of Jacksonville officiating, in the presence of relatives of the contracting parties and a few invited guests.
    The rooms were beautifully decorated with ivy, roses, sweet peas and carnations, and the young people were met under a canopy of flowers by the officiating minister, who in a beautiful and original service pronounced the words which united them for life.
    After the ceremony light refreshments were served, in the midst of which the Medford band, of which organization the groom has long been a member, struck up on on the outside and were promptly invited in to share in the festivities of the occasion.
    The bride is the youngest daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Colvig, a native of Jackson County, and is a very amiable and highly accomplished young lady.
    The groom is one of the rising young men of the city. He is energetic, capable and well liked by all.
    Mr. and Mrs. Warner have gone to housekeeping in a cottage previously prepared by the groom. The Mail joins their many friends in congratulations and best wishes for their future happiness.
Medford Mail, August 2, 1907, page 1

    Fred L. Colvig, formerly of Grants Pass, well-known in Southern Oregon as a pharmacist of ability, has taken Mr. [Arthur] Whitman's place in Haskins' store.
"City Happenings," Medford Mail, February 21, 1908, page 9

The Firm of Colvig & Dunham Has Been Dissolved and Hereafter
the Firm Name Will Be Colvig & Reames--Both Able Lawyers
    The law firm of Colvig & Durham has been dissolved, and the new law firm is Colvig & Reames. The new firm is composed of Hon. W. M. Colvig and his son-in-law, C. L. Reames. Both these gentlemen are well known, and especially Mr. Colvig, who has for several years past been employed on one or other other side of nearly every case which has been tried in Jackson and Josephine counties.
    Mr. Colvig is unquestionably one of the best attorneys in the state. Mr. Reames, while having had not so much experience, is nonetheless an unusually bright young man and has had a goodly amount of actual practice at the bar while serving as deputy district attorney for several years past.
Medford Daily Tribune clipping dated October 15, 1908, William M. Colvig scrapbook.

The Firms of Colvig & Durham and Reames & Reames Dissolved.
    In addition to the dissolution of partnership of the law firm of Colvig & Reames, notice of which appeared in the Morning Mail a few days ago, the law firm of Reames & Reames has also been dissolved. A. E. Reames will continue the practice of law at Jacksonville and C. L. Reames has gone into partnership with William M. Colvig.
    Mr. Durham, who was formerly associated with Mr. Colvig, will continue the practice of law in Grants Pass.
Medford Mail, October 23, 1908, page 4

The Dead Spirit of the Klamath
A True Story of Oregon Indians Related to the Author by a Pioneer of the West.*
    In 1863, Eastern Oregon was wild and desolate, the only inhabitants of that country being the Klamath Indians. To the east of them the Piute tribe held sway, and on the south were the Modocs, under the leadership of the notorious "Captain Jack," famous for the important part he played, some years after, in the battle of the lava beds.
    It was in this section of the country that Colonel Charles Drew had been ordered to establish a military post [i.e., Fort Klamath], and I was one of the soldiers of Company C, First Oregon Cavalry, who was stationed there at the time the fort was being built.
    There were fifty in the company, and most of us were young fellows to whom camp life was new and thoroughly enjoyable. As the fort was still uncompleted we were living in tents, and our little white canvas city lay just across the creek from the Indian village.
    We were conscious of no danger, as the Indians seemed peaceable. Of course our presence there was not looked upon very favorably by them; however, with most of them we had made friends. There was the old "peace chief," Lalakes, who indeed seemed most friendly to us; his tall figure, unbowed by age, was often seen among our tents, and all the soldiers held somewhat the same reverence for him that his own tribe did. There was George, too, one of the quickest and keenest men among them, and " John," inheriting traits of his father, "Old John," who was killed in the Rogue River War a few years before. This young chief had no use for the "palefaces," and he was seldom, if ever, seen on one side of the creek.
    "Blow," or Saltout [Soltouk, Sole-te-bux], was another of the so-called "little chiefs," and his well-built figure was the envy of many a soldier. Besides these were there other "little chiefs" of the Klamaths, making seven in all.
    I remember well most of the faces that I saw almost daily in the little wigwam village, but there is one which is stamped deeper on my memory than all the rest, and that is the exquisite face of the girl Milita [sic--she is elsewhere, and for the remainder of this article, referred to as "Celie."]. Her black eyes never wavered in their glance; her hair was wonderfully long, thick, black and straight, her nose, unlike the characteristic flattened nose of her tribe, was carefully molded, and her lips a bright contrast to her copper skin; her white, even, strong teeth were such as only an Indian can boast. She was tall, agile and straight-limbed like all her race. Although only an Indian, she commanded and won the respect and courtesy of all the soldiers. She was seen almost daily moving stealthily among the tents, and seldom a night passed but what the ruddy flames of our campfire lit up the bronze of her face as she sat a little apart from us in a moody silence. She would never speak to us either in Chinook or English. Our efforts to get her to converse with us were in vain--she treated us with ill-concealed hauteur, and we began to think she was dumb. We instinctively felt that she hated us and left her alone to come and go unmolested. As I have already stated, we were young and camp life being new, seemed to us but a jolly outing. We spent our time, off duty, riding over the sagebrush plains, hunting the game, which was plentiful, fishing in the lake or river and playing cards in camp. We took it as a matter of course that there would be no resistance on the part of the Indians, yet at times we felt a little fear for our safety--we did not know the Indian character well enough to understand that the passive attitude they assumed was but a sign of the smoldering treachery in their hearts. We did not dream that the very sight of our tents, the very stroke of the hammer on the new fort were things that daily kindled anew their anger and hate.
    Of course we were foolish to think that these people were going to give up their land and the freedom they loved so well and be led to the reservation without a murmur of protest in a struggle for their rights, but we did think it and were blind to the fate they were so carefully and craftily planning for us. They knew that, armed as we were, our number was too great for them to attack us, so they planned to get some of us out of the way. In order to do this they sent some of the Indians over to the "Dead Indian" country, 100 miles west
[sic] of the mountains, near the Rogue River Valley. These Indians ravished the farms there, killed some of the cattle belonging to the settlers and terrified the whole community. They thought that some of the soldiers at the fort would be called to quiet the outbreak. This would diminish the number at the reservation and the Indians intended to fall upon these remaining soldiers and massacre them.
    Clever as the plan was, it failed, for, instead of calling upon the soldiers at the fort to quiet the Indians, Colonel Drew took matters into his own hands. He met Chief George on the street in Jacksonville, and said:
    "George, those Indians of yours are killing stock and destroying property up in the Dead Indian country; we won't allow this. Now, I want you to get them back to Klamath where they belong."
    Instead of giving Colonel Drew a satisfactory answer, George went to Palmer, the Indian agent. Now Palmer and Drew were not friendly, owing to the fact that their authority sometimes clashed. So Palmer said to the chief: "You go back and tell Drew that he can take care of his soldiers and you take care of the Indians."
    At this Drew became angry. "George," he said, "There is mischief here, and it must be stopped. Four men in Rancheria Prairie have been killed by your tribe--now, if you don't get those red men back where they belong before a week, I am going to hold you responsible for the death of those men."
    Even then George made no effort to get the Indians to return to the reservation, so in a week the young Indian brave, who had become a familiar figure on the streets of the little mining town of Jacksonville, was tried by a drumhead court martial for murder by the soldiers, found guilty and hung.
    Drew realized that this act further endangered our position at the fort, and in order to warn us to be on our guard before the Indians had learned of the execution, a man was immediately sent on horseback to Klamath. After riding hard all day the tired rider swung from his worn-out horse at midnight in our camp. After receiving the news, Captain Kelly sent word to every man to dress as quietly as he could, and be prepared for orders.
    His plan was to arrest all the chiefs, lodge them in the guardhouse and keep them there till the trouble was past and a treaty signed. He knew if the Indians were deprived of their leaders we would have very little to fear from them.
    While we were dressing in the dark and awaiting the assembly call, a spy was sent over to the wigwam village to ascertain just where the chiefs were to be found so we could fall upon them quietly. After spying around the slumbering village the soldier returned with the startling news that none of the chiefs were to be found. We realized the danger of this--as quick as Drew had been in sending us word of the execution the Indians had been quicker, familiar with paths through the mountains that we did not know, their messenger had beaten ours, and so the chiefs were evidently some place preparing to attack us.
    After much searching we finally located the chiefs in a little dugout hut back of the camp.
    This was the first excitement since we had been at the fort, and now that it had come our hearts were gripped with a sort of delicious terror. I will never forget that night. I can still see before me our white tents, in even rows under the starry sky. The little creek, now almost dry, reflected the stars, and across the way the dying fires in the Indian village flickered doubtfully in the darkness.
    Captain Kelly ordered 15 of us to surround the hut; our hearts were beating wildly and we kept a silence that was pregnant with expectancy as we crept up to the little hut--a fissure in the clay of the walk afforded us a place to peep in the dugout, and there we saw the six chiefs planning our massacre. The fire was in the center of the small room, and the dim light from the smoking embers fell grotesquely on the fine old face of Lalakes. It lit the hard, determined countenance of John and the sullen, murderous faces of the others.
    A crackling twig under some soldier's foot caused the Indians to look quickly at each other. We knew the critical moment had arrived. As the room was too small for us all to enter, Kelly hurriedly whispered orders for us to remain outside, and motioning to Sergeant Underwood to follow him, the two men, with drawn revolvers, entered the hut.
    As they entered, the Indians sprang to their feet. John reached for his faithful knife, but Kelly, too quick for him, fired, shooting him under the eye. The Indian lurched forward and grabbed at the captain's throat just as Underwood took aim and shot him through the heart. His great, strong body fell forward over the fire, extinguishing what light there was in the room. It had all happened so quickly, the Indians having been given no time to use their weapons, so when they were left in the darkness they dropped on their knees and sought to escape like cats into the night. But as they came out, one by one, we soldiers captured them without further resistance on their part.
    Out in the clear air the assembly call rang, the waiting soldiers fell into line and the five chiefs were taken to the guard tent. A detachment hurried over to the village to quiet any disturbance that might have arisen there, but to our surprise we found it entirely deserted save for a few old women and small children.
    Kelly understood the plan of the Indians at once. They had gone to the hills, some to the east to bring the Piutes to their aid, and some to the south for the Modocs. Our danger was worse than ever. Colonel Drew, knowing the situation of affairs, hurried across the mountains and at once sought Lalakes and with aides went the next morning to the guard tent and talked with Lalakes.
    "Chief," he said in his abrupt way, "I want those Indians back here by Saturday night." Lalakes said nothing. "And I want them to surrender what arms they have in their possession.," Drew continued. Still the old chief did not reply. "I want them here by sundown on that day, and I don't want more than 20 of them on this side of the creek at one time. Do you understand?" "Yes, I understand. But they no come; how you get them here?" "They will come; they must come," demanded the colonel. "I will let one of you chiefs out and he must go to all Indians and tell them that you order them to return and tell them that if they are not here Saturday evening at sundown I will hang the five chiefs who are left here."
    The seamed weathered face of the old warrior changed not a muscle.
    "Well?" said Drew, impatiently, after a long silence.
    "I not know now," said Lalakes, placidly. "I must talk with the others."
    He turned to the chiefs and told them Drew's orders. For an hour they talked it over, then the old chief came to the window and called to Drew, who was pacing nervously up and down.
    "Well, what about it?" demanded the colonel.
    "We not know yet," answered Lalakes. "We want Celie; send her to us."
    The girl had been sulking about our camp since the night before. She was soon found and immediately came to the guardhouse, holding her head high and her dark eyes dilating with smoldering excitement.
    The chiefs, in their laconic way, told her what Drew demanded. "Of course," she said, when they had finished, "you do not agree to this; you would all rather die?"
    They were silent. "Answer me," she cried in the Klamath tongue; "answer me, do not tell me that you hesitate for one moment. It surely has not come to this; you surely will to send for the Klamaths to return." There was amazement pictured on her face, and her whole attitude was one of appeal; still no answer came from the men.
    "What are you?" she cried, fiercely, when she read what their silence meant. "What are you that you dare do this? You are cowards all if you do not say to the white devils, 'Hang us, what do we care; we will not give up to you like so many squaws; we are brave men--we are the chiefs of the Klamaths.'"
    Lalakes raised his calm eyes to her flashing ones. "It is useless to struggle," he said; "there are too many for us and we must give up in the end."
    "Then give up in the end and not in the beginning. Prove that you are worthy of the trust the Klamaths have given into your keeping. They hung my brother George at Jacksonville; he was brave--he was not afraid--he had no squaw heart. You must not, you must not give your birthright, the land of our fathers, without a struggle. O Lalakes! you do not consent to this? You will not send for the Indians to return?"
    The old chief nodded his head. "We have talked it all over and think it is the best and only way."
    "Then why do you send for me?" she asked.
    "We wanted you to go out with the chief we send; we know your influence over the people, and we want you to tell the Indians to return; you can convince them that it is the only thing to do."
    She clasped her brown hands on her heaving breast: there was a sneer on her handsome face.
    "Did you think I'd go? Did you think I'd say you were right in doing this? I thought you knew me better; I thought you knew I never would give an inch to these interlopers. I tell you now, I would rather die first--I would rather see every Klamath dead than to know that one of them was a coward. O! Pride of my race, where have you gone--to know that you, who should be the bravest of them all, willingly submit to the white man's commands. Blow," she said, turning to the comeliest and youngest of them. "Blow, do you consent to this cowardly thing?"
    "Celie," he said, caressingly, "do you not see it is useless to fight those palefaces?"
    "No! No! No!" she cried, wildly, "I cannot see it. It is better to die fighting than to be led without a murmur from our rights to live under these people's laws. There is no excuse for it; you are cowards--all, all of you. What right have these white men to take from us what is justly ours? What right have you to quietly let them take it?"
    "Celie," said the young grave, grasping her unwilling hands and looking down into her flashing eyes. "Lalakes is old, he has been through many battles. He surely knows what is best for his people now."
    She looked up quickly. "As Lalakes is growing old, he is also growing cowardly. He is afraid to die, but I am not. Let Lalakes go sit with the squaws and I will hang instead of him. Let him see the land given over to the white men--he can then end his days in peace. I will stay here and on Saturday we five will hang. Our people will not come in and lay down their arms, but in a week they will return with our neighbors the Piutes and Modocs; then the soldiers will perish and our deaths will not be in vain. Even if, as time goes on and the white men at last win, it shall not be said of the Klamaths that they were cowards. Let me go to the white chiefs and beg of them to let Lalakes go. I will tell them he has a squaw's heart and is afraid to die. If they will consent to hang me in his place, will you?'
    The Indians hung their heads before this brave girl. Lalakes spoke harshly. "I know what is best, girl." His old voice trembled. "I am not afraid to die, but I will not die or will any of these chiefs. We will send out one of our number tonight to recall the Klamaths."
    "Which one will go?" she asked, scornfully. "Which one will go and say to the Indians, 'Come back; the white man bids you come; he wants you, your guns, your freedom.' If you do not give yourselves up Saturday night your four brave chiefs will be hung as they prevail upon you to come. Tell me, which one will go?"
    "Blow is the one elected to go. He is the youngest and strongest," said Lalakes.
    "Blow?" the girl's face hardened as she turned to him. "How can you? O! how can you?"
    "I must," he said simply. "I can't refuse."
    "Cannot refuse! shrieked the girl. "You, whom I thought the bravest heart in all the world; you tell me you cannot refuse? You will not sacrifice your petty life for your birthright? Where is the spirit of the Klamaths? Then," and there was a quiver in her voice, "if you cannot refuse, I can never be your squaw; I will never sit by your fire or live in the wigwam you have prepared for me; you are not what I thought you were--you are a coward."
    "Celie," pleaded the young chief, "do not say that; tell me you do not mean it."
    "If you go," she answered quietly, "I do mean it."
    Blow looked helplessly from her to Lalakes. The old chief said firmly, "He must go."
    "Yes," repeated the others. "he must go," and Celie turned without another word and left the guardhouse. When she came out she walked up to Colonel Drew and we were surprised to hear the Indian girl we had all thought dumb speak in excellent English.
    "Blow will go," she said shortly. "They are all cowards. I would die first. I wanted to take Lalake's place, but he would not let me. I know the white man's power, but were I the chief I would die a thousand deaths before I bowed before it. But they have all faint hearts. You let Blow go; he will bring back the Indians."
    "All right," answered the colonel. "I'll let him go--but stay," he added, as she turned to leave him, "where did you learn to speak English so well, and why have you never spoken to us before?"
    "Because I hate you," she declared hotly. "I have known all the time how to read your English books. General [Joe] Lane took me when I was a little girl and put me in school in one of your eastern cities, and I was taught that there is a God of Justice, and this image of the cross upon which he died was given to me by one of his priests." She drew from her bosom a small crucifix. "But I came back. I like my blankets better than fine dresses, and my wigwam better than a house."
    "And Blow better than a white man," suggested a soldier.
    Her lip curled. "I care for no coward," she replied haughtily.
    On Saturday the Indians came, but true to the characteristics of their race they waited till the last minute. We had begun to fear that they were not coming, when at sunset they came from the hills, crossed the bridge that spanned the creek and dropped their guns at the foot of our flag post.
    In the opal twilight a little way apart stood the Indian girl, Celie, straight and rigid, eying the scene. She winced as each gun fell.
    Blow watched her from a distance as she stood there all alone--she, whom he had hoped to bring to his wigwam some day; she whom he loved with all his savage heart, but had lost forever. A barrier worse than death was now between them. He had helped to sell her kinsmen's rights--her rights. How much better it would have been to never have consented--far better to have died than to live without her, and that was what he must do now. He knew her nature too well to hope for forgiveness. She, the pride of all the race, so brave, could never love a coward, and he had proven himself one before her. What was his miserable life worth now, without her?
    He gave one last look toward her, as she stood with her hands clasped tensely in front of her, her head uplifted so the fine handsome features were silhouetted against the changing colors of the western sky, then, conscious of what he had done and of what he had lost, slunk away into the night.
Medford Mail, October 16 and 29, 1908, page 8    *The "pioneer of the west" is undoubtedly Wm. M. Colvig.

    Colvig and Reames are moving into their new offices on the second floor of the Medford National Bank building.

"Social and Personal," Medford Daily Tribune, March 13, 1909, page 4

    The Legislature did, indeed, a few years ago authorize the appointment by the Governor of a Board of Immigration, but as it appropriated no money with which to prosecute its duties, it fell by the wayside. I recall that in selecting its five members I afterward discovered that they were all Republicans. This, of course, was unintentional, and as the appointees had not yet been announced, I wrote to William M. Colvig, of Jacksonville, that I was desirous of appointing him on the new Board of Immigration, principally because I was hunting for a good Democrat who would not shirk the responsibilities of the position. Colvig, besides being a very able lawyer, is a born wag, and in his reply of acceptance said:
    "With pleasure I will accept your appointment and will so far try to fulfill your expectations of me that within two years I hope to secure the immigration of five thousand Missouri Democrats, not only because they would make splendid citizens, but, if possible, I want to change the political complexion of this Black Republican state."
    The joke was finally on Colvig, however, for the stand the Democratic Party soon afterward took on the question of expansion caused him to become a Republican on national questions, and his threatened inroad on the Missouri Democracy was never carried into effect.
T. T. Geer, Fifty Years in Oregon, New York, 1912, pages 525-526

Residence and office, Medford National Bank Building, Medford, Ore. Born in
Knoxville, Mo., September 2, 1845. Son of William Lyngae and Helen Mar (Woodford) Colvig. Came to Oregon in 1851. Married to Addie Birdseye, June 8, 1879. Attended country school in Oregon; eighteen months at Tremont College, Tazewell County, Ill., then teaching school for short time. Studied law with Judge A. W. Rodecker, Pekin, Ill., 1871-72. Returned to Oregon, October 1875, and admitted to bar at Salem, Ore., in 1888. Member of Company C. First Regiment, Oregon Cavalry, 1863-66. County School Superintendent, 1882-1886; District Attorney, 1886. Member Oregon Textbook Commission. President Medford Commercial Club. Member Masonic fraternity. Republican.

History of the Bench and Bar of Oregon, 1910, page 112

    William M. Colvig, erstwhile from Missouri, longer ago, however, than many of us have lived, has at last been "showed." For the past decade Bill Colvig has been going up and down through the land proclaiming his nativity of the state where people "have to be showed," and at the same time his abiding faith in the past, present and future of his adopted state, Oregon--or it may be some day, Siskiyou--but never in all these years has William ever owned an orchard tract--he hadn't been "showed" yet.
    But Saturday he went to Woodville, where he and E. C. Sharpe of the Home Telephone Company for the trifling consideration of $13,500 bought from R. A. Pierce 50 acres of the land on Evans Creek, which the said William might have had for the asking when in his younger days he traveled around in that neighborhood. "I am from Missouri," declares Mr. Colvig, "and I have to be 'showed.' I have been showing other people for a good many years, and it finally permeated through my head that I might as well show myself something while I was at it. Hence the buy. Good buy? Of course it is. Evans Creek property is worth all a man is asked for it, and then some."
"63,000 Paid for 121 Lots on Nob Hill," Medford Mail Tribune, March 20, 1910, page 1

W. M. Colvig, September 9, 1910 Oregonian
September 9, 1910 Oregonian

8 Laurel Street, Medford, Oregon

William J. Warner, 26, postal clerk, born in Nebraska, head of household
Mary C. Warner, 23, born in Oregon, wife
William M. Colvig, 64, lawyer, born in Missouri, father-in-law
Addie Colvig, 53, born in Oregon, mother-in-law
Donald Colvig, 21, stenographer, born in Oregon, brother-in-law
Vance Colvig, 17, born in Oregon, brother-in-law
Ira J. Dodge, 29, real estate agent, born in Minnesota, boarder
Harry Houston, 29, real estate agent, born in Minnesota, boarder
U.S. Census, enumerated April 18-19, 1910

Medford Aroused by Attack on Judge Colvig.
Commercial Club Members Declare Confidence in Councilmen Who Have Been
Attacked from Pulpit by Evangelist.

    MEDFORD, Or., April 28.--(Special.)--Indignation is running higher tonight in Medford against French Oliver, the evangelist, than at any time since his arrival here. Tonight he called Judge William M. Colvig a "damnable lying old cur, the spawn of perdition." This attack upon a man as prominent in Southern Oregon as Judge Colvig, who perhaps has done more for the upbuilding of Medford than any other one man in the city, has aroused the townspeople.
    Oliver also attacked E. E. Kelly, a prominent member of the Southern Oregon bar, for remarks made at last night's session of the Commercial Club.
    Oliver was the subject of comment at the meeting of the Medford Commercial Club last night. Judge Colvig, president of the club, in referring to the attack made upon the members of the city council by Oliver last Monday night, said:
    "There is a tenderfoot preacher in this town who is attempting to sit in judgment upon his betters and has characterized them as unregenerate renegades. This to the members of the city council who have labored earnestly and with all their might during the past two years without pay commensurate with their ability and their endeavors to make the town better in every way. And I want to say to any member of the council who may be present that we, the people of Medford, and I myself personally, take this occasion to say to you that we think one of you is worth any 1000 of such itinerants."
    Judge Kelly also spoke of the malignant "backbiting" of the evangelist. The sentiment was general among the business men of the city that Oliver had overstepped his mark.
Morning Oregonian, Portland, April 29, 1910, page 6

William M. Colvig political cartoon, 1910-9-19MMT
Medford Mail Tribune, September 19, 1910

Pledge to Vote for Republican Voter's Choice for U.S. Senator.

    The latest phase of the primary campaign in Jackson County is the entrance of Hon. W. M. Colvig, of Medford, a well-known attorney and president of the Commercial Club of that city, into the race for the Republican nomination for state senator. Mr. Colvig is the first legislative candidate to file in the county during the present campaign who has not subscribed to Statement No. 1 unalloyed. As a Republican candidate for the legislature he wants to support a Republican  candidate for United States Senator at the election two years hence and to that end pledges himself to support the Republican candidate for that office who shall have received the highest number of votes at the general election next preceding. Mr. Colvig, who will have as opponents at the primary Hon. H. von der Hellen of Wellen and J. J. Cambers of Ashland, both unalloyed statement signers, announces his platform as follows:
    "If I am nominated for the office of State Senator, at the primary nominating election to be held on the 24th day of September, 1910, I will accept the nomination and will not withdraw, and if I am elected I will qualify as such officer.
    "If nominated and elected, I will represent Jackson County in particular and the people of the state of Oregon in general to the best of my ability and use my endeavors to secure legislation most beneficial to the state.
    "I favor good roads and all other things which go toward the progress of the state.
    "I further state that I will vote for that candidate for United States Senator in Congress who shall have received the highest number of votes as the Republican candidate for that office.
    "To be printed on the nominating ballot: 'Wishes to fight without having his hands tied.'"

Ashland Tidings, September 8, 1910, page 1

    Hon. William M. Colvig came out on Wednesday and Wednesday night delivered his campaign speech. I did not have the satisfaction of hearing him, but the next morning I inquired of three prominent men about the speech and crowd. The first one said that he had a small gathering--the speech was made on the street in front of Brown & Son's store. The next one was one of the old line politicians and he said that when he commenced he had a half dozen hearers but by the time he got through he had 18 or 20; that the most of his time was taken up in explaining the whys he had flopped from the Republican Party to the Democrat and from the Democrats to the Republicans, by the Populist and Free Silver Democrat, etc., and summed up by saying that he did not think that the generality of the voters knew enough to select their candidates for Senator and consequently he was opposed to the primary election law and especially Statement No. 1, and as a bait advanced the idea that he, if elected to the Senate, would get a big howl for the proposed Catholic hospital in Medford. The speech in the main was the same one he delivered here when he was candidate for district attorney on the Democratic ticket a few years ago, only changing the political names.
A. C. Howlett, "Eagle Point Eaglets," Medford Mail Tribune, September 8, 1910, page 12

To the Voters of Jackson County
    I am a candidate for State Senator. I am a Republican. If nominated at the primary, and elected at the general election, I will give my best efforts to serve the interests of the people of Jackson County.
    I will not vote to elect a Democrat to the United [States] Senate, but I will vote to elect to that office the Republican candidate who shall have received the highest number of votes therefor at the general election next preceding.
    I want this statement to be plainly understood so that no person who desires the election of a Democrat to that important office will be misled into voting for me thinking that possibly I might, under certain circumstances, aid in bringing about such a result, for I will not.
    I believe that as a representative of those who elect me I should carry out their political views.
    I favor the permanent maintenance of a State Normal School at Ashland, Oregon, and if I am elected I will use every effort to secure such [an] institution.
    I am in favor of good roads, and have given much study to the subject, and as to the manner of procuring them. Important legislation is needed before much can be done in this matter.
    In order that the fish that run in the streams of the state may be enjoyed by all our people, the greed of the cannery men at the mouth of the rivers must be checked in some legitimate way so as to allow a free run of fish to the interior localities. I feel that I am thoroughly acquainted with the conditions of such affairs, and will, if elected, be able to render efficient service therein.
    I came to Oregon in October 1851 when I was six years old. I have worked in her forests, her fields, and her mines, and I believe that I know her needs. I am known as a "progressive"--in fact I am called a "booster," and if elected I shall esteem it a great honor to boost for the whole state, but particularly for Jackson County.
    If I am not nominated at the primary convention, it will give me great pleasure to assist the victorious Republican candidate who defeats me to an election in November, and to urge my party friends to give him a cordial support. I will not during the campaign personally make a request of any voter to support me. I will be pleased to meet my fellow citizens and publicly address them on political matters.
    WM. M. COLVIG.
Ashland Tidings, September 12, 1910, page 4

    Judge William M. Colvig made such a strong speech in favor of that stalwart reactionary Republican, that firm friend of the assembly, that staunch enemy of Statement No. 1, and that invincible opponent of the rule of the people, William M. Colvig, and indulged in so many incandescent periods and verbal fireworks that the electric light plant got ashamed of itself and went out of business Saturday evening, leaving the orator the only luminous object in the city.
    Judge Colvig spoke on the street corner like a monk and lowly socialist, but unlike the meek and lowly socialist, he spoke from that emblem of the rich and the four-flusher, the automobile--no popcorn stand for this champion of the rights of the few in their rule of the many. He had a good audience to start with, but when the lights began to fade, so did the audience, in spite of the brilliance of the speaker.
    "The Two Georges" might have been styled the subject of the judge's oration, as most of it was devoted to George E. Chamberlain and a local George much less known to fame [probably George Putnam]. The heartiest cheers drawn forth were when he said he was a friend of "our George." With honeyed words he depicted the benefit accruing to the people by letting a few choice spirits do their thinking for them and select their candidates. He lovingly dwelt upon the glorious character of the 1200 eminent citizens and corporation employees who constituted the assembly, and chose for the incompetent people their candidates.
    Judge Colvig spoke of Congressman Hawley's admitted incompetence and told how he had advised Mr. Hawley never to show up in Medford unless he got an appropriation, and how that Mr. Hawley had made good by selling his birthright for a mess of pottage, and thereby become worthy.
    At the conclusion, the crowd dispersed in silence, and no collection was taken to aid the candidate in his Don Quixote tilt against the windmill of popular government.
Medford Mail Tribune weekly, September 15, 1910, page 2

(Valley Record.)
    Hon. William M. Colvig announces that he will address the people of Ashland in behalf of his candidacy for the Republican nomination for state senator at 8 p.m. Monday, September 19. This is his first political talk in Ashland since the one he delivered on the occasion of his changing from the Democratic to the Republican Party in the second McKinley campaign. It will be remembered that Mr. Colvig had gotten along in his discourse at Chautauqua assembly hall to the point where he gave a graphic description of himself tied to the Democratic jackass. At this point the fire alarm sounded and everybody bolted from the building and left Mr. Colvig still hitched to the Democratic emblem. Bill is as Democratic as P. T. Barnum, and his posters announce that he wishes to have citizens of every political party to be present, also all candidates for offices at the "coming election are invited to participate in the meetings." No doubt they will all be there.
    As far as the public knows, Bill has only fraternized with the Republican and Democratic parties, and incidentally with two extinct organizations, the Populist and Free-Silver Republican parties. Whether he will draw the "color line" on the Socialist or Prohibition parties the poster does not say, though a free reading of the invitation seems to include all comers. As there is no extra charge for seats, there should be a full house present to see the political warhorse complete the job of extricating himself from the Democratic donkey. This feature alone will be lots of fun for the children.
Medford Mail Tribune, September 18, 1910, page 10

    The residents of Laurel Street near the west school are up in arms over the prospect of having a dance hall in their neighborhood and are preparing a petition to the city council asking that a license granted to Al Stroud for that purpose be revoked. If the council does not grant their petition, the matter will be carried to the circuit court and an injunction sought on the ground that it is a public nuisance.
    Mr. Stroud proposes to start a dance hall in the building occupied temporarily by the Cuthbert company. This building adjoins the home of W. M. Colvig [at 8 South Laurel], and Mr. Colvig and others are remonstrating.
    It is pointed out that the location of a dance hall at that point would prove very annoying. Hence the protest.
Medford Mail Tribune weekly, September 22, 1910, page 7

    I am a candidate for state senator. I am a Republican. If nominated at the primary, and elected at the general election, I will give my best efforts to serve the interests of the people of Jackson County.
    I will not vote to elect a Democrat to the United [States] Senate, but I will vote to elect to that office the Republican candidate who shall have received the highest number of votes therefor at the general election next preceding. [This was before the popular election of senators.]
    I want this statement to be plainly understood so that no person who desires the election of a Democrat to that important office will be misled into voting for me by thinking that possibly I might, under certain circumstances, aid in bringing about such a result, for I will not.
    I believe that as a representative of those who elect me I should carry out their political views.
    I favor the permanent maintenance of a state normal school at Ashland, Oregon, and if I am elected I will use every effort to secure such institution.
    I am in favor of good roads, and have given much study to the subject, and as to the manner of procuring them. Important legislation is needed before much can be done in this matter.
    In order that the fish that run in the streams of the state may be enjoyed by all our people, the greed of the cannery men at the mouths of the rivers must be checked in some legitimate way so as to allow a free run of fish to the interior localities. I feel that I am thoroughly acquainted with the condition of such affairs, and will, if elected, be able to render efficient service therein.
    I came to Oregon in October, 1851, when I was six years old. I have worked in her forests, her fields, and her mines, and I believe that I know her needs. I am known as a "progressive"--in fact I am called a "booster"--and if elected I shall esteem it a great honor to boost for the whole state, but particularly for Jackson County.
    If I am not nominated at the primary convention, it will give me great pleasure to assist the victorious Republican candidate who defeats me, to election in November, and to urge my party friends to give him a cordial support. I will not during the campaign personally make a request of any voter to support me. I will be pleased to meet my fellow citizens, and publicly address them on political matters.
(Paid Advertisement.)
Central Point Herald, September 22, 1910, page 1

Judge Colvig Will Discuss Means for Disposing This Species.
    PORTLAND, Or., Nov. 20.--An open season for mossbacks will be advocated by Judge Colvig, president of the Medford Commercial Club in his address before the convention of the Oregon Development League at Salem, November 28, 29 and 30.
    How to get rid of the pestiferous mossback is a problem that has long troubled progressives in all sections of the state. Commercial clubs have had much to contend with in advancing the interests of their respective sections but no problem has been more difficult of solution than that of eliminating the mossback. He has been in evidence when any proposition came up and his influence has always been in opposition to progress.
    If the mossback can be routed from the state, a great gain will have been made in advancing the commonwealth along material lines. Heretofore the problem has been too difficult to solve, but Judge Colvig may be depended upon to offer suggestions that will prove helpful. It will be a great advantage to every commercial club of the state to learn the best methods of fighting the mossback, and for that reason all these bodies should be represented at the coming convention.
    It is said that the mossback is a more deadly enemy of Oregon than the San Jose scale or the pear blight, for the while these these are bad enough, they only destroy fruit trees and their fruit, while the mossback, who is always a knocker, destroys communities and retards the development of the whole state.
    One may not hunt the mossback with the sprays and germicides that orchardists use to rout fruit pests, but Judge Colvig will tell what weapons to use in the warfare and when how to make the attack. As the hunting for mossbacks is good almost anywhere in the state, Judge Colvig's directions ought to result in a wholesale slaughter following the convention.
Evening News, Roseburg, November 26, 1910, page 1

President of Medford Commercial Club Will Make Strong Talk on Oregon's Most Deadly Fee Before Development Congress.
    An open season for mossbacks will be advocated by Judge Colvig, president of the Medford Commercial Club, in his address before the convention of the Oregon Development League at Salem, November 28, 29 and 30.
    How to get rid of the pestiferous mossback is a problem that has long troubled progressives in all sections of the state. Commercial clubs have had much to contend with in advancing the interests of their respective sections, but no problem has been more difficult of solution than that of eliminating the mossback. He has been in evidence when any proposition came up, and his influence has always been in opposition to progress.
    If the mossback can be routed from the state a great gain will have been made in advancing the commonwealth along material lines. Heretofore the problem has been too difficult to solve, but Judge Colvig may be depended upon to offer suggestions that will prove helpful. It will be a great advantage to every commercial club of the state to learn the best methods of fighting the mossback, and for that reason all these bodies should be represented at the coming convention.
    It is said that the mossback is a more deadly enemy of Oregon than the San Jose scale or the pear blight, for, while these are bad enough, they only destroy fruit trees and their fruit, while the mossback, who is always a knocker, destroys communities and retards the development of the whole state.
    One may not hunt the mossback with the sprays and germicides that orchardists use to rout fruit pests, but Judge Colvig will tell what weapons to use in the warfare and when and how to make the attack. As the hunting for mossbacks is good almost anywhere in the state, Judge Colvig's directions ought to result in a wholesale slaughter following the convention.
Medford Mail Tribune, November 27, 1910, page B1

Medford Sun, August 13, 1911

Medford Commercial Club Head Out
    MEDFORD, Or., June 5.--(Special.)--After three years of service William M. Colvig, president of the Medford Commercial Club, today tendered his resignation to the directors of that organization saying that he must devote more of his time to his private affairs. It has been largely due to Mr. Colvig that the club has maintained its high degree of efficiency.
Morning Oregonian, Portland, June 5, 1911, page 7

Rogue River Electric Company Offers City Unusual Propositions.
Special to the Union.
    KLAMATH FALLS (Ore.), June 16.--Prospects for cheaper electric power for Klamath Falls are bright as a result of the visit to this city of Judge William Colvig of Medford, who is here in the interests of the Rogue River Electric Company. The judge is conferring with Mayor Sanderson and members of the county council relative to lights and power for the town.
    Colonel Frank Ray, head of the company, which operates in the Rogue River Valley, will arrive in Medford in two weeks from New York. According to Colvig he will visit here shortly after his arrival on the coast to take some definite action in the matter. In case the company will be allowed a franchise, Judge Colvig states that Colonel Ray will be prepared on his visit here to establish a definite rate.
    According to Judge Colvig he has been authorized by his company to agree to furnish the city of Klamath Falls with electric energy at a flat rate, and let the city distribute the current to the consumers, or would be willing to operate a plant under a franchise. He said that his company is willing to make provisions in the franchise giving the city the right at all times to regulate the rates to be charged for electricity, and in addition would allow the city 5 percent of the gross earnings of the company.
Sacramento Union, June 17, 1911, page 7

(Klamath Chronicle.)
    William Colvig of Medford, who arrived here Wednesday evening, is a guest at the Baldwin. Mr. Colvig is well acquainted with most of the old settlers of the county, having been district attorney of this district for two terms some 30 years ago. He is here looking after some legal business. Mr. Colvig is a great booster for Southern Oregon, and has very broad ideas of the future possibilities of this region. He was one of the earliest visitors to Crater Lake. In the time of the Civil War he was Captain of Company C, First Oregon Cavalry, and for a time his command was stationed at Fort Klamath, and while there he traveled all over this region when it was uninhabited by white men. [Colvig reached the rank of sergeant.] He has traveled much both in America and abroad and regards Crater Lake as one of the grandest scenes to be found in the wide world, and predicts that with proper facilities for reaching it, that many thousands of tourists will annually visit and view its wonders, that with easy access by touring cars between Medford and Klamath Falls, via Crater Lake, it is reasonable to assume that 10,000 people will become visitors of this city every summer, who will leave a trail of wealth behind them. [He didn't travel abroad.] "They are people of wealth who demand the best there is, and are willing and able to pay for their comforts as they go," said he, "and it is simply the part of wisdom and sensible foresight for our men of means to prepare for the accommodation and coming of this host. Most of them will stop off the trains at Medford and go thence to Crater Lake, but they will not be satisfied to return the way they came, but will insist upon seeing Klamath Lake and its beautiful environments of crystal streams and mountain peaks, and will continue their journey this way to the railroad, or perhaps to fish for trout in Spring Creek."
    Many of the Captain's old acquaintances met with him yesterday and gave him most cordial greetings. For 60 years Captain Colvig has been a resident of Oregon.
Medford Mail Tribune, June 21, 1911, page 3

Judge Wm. M. Colvig, the Grand Young Man of the Valley 
    Here's an awfully good joke on the judge. You see the illustration that accompanies this article. Well, the judge won't like that. Neither will Mrs. Colvig. But what can they do. Their own son Vance executed it one day from life while the judge was addressing the bar.
    And it isn't so bad at that. Turned upside down it looks a little like the map of Crater Lake, but the Websterian brow is there, as is the twinkling eye and the claret-colored necktie, and someday that picture will be worth money, for V is after the laurels of Davenport and McCutcheon [celebrated cartoonists Homer Davenport and John McCutcheon], although there is at present a conspiracy in the family to make an engineer out of him.
    But we are not dealing with the present generation. This is a story of the youngest old man--or is it the oldest young man--in Jackson County.
    Just think of it. When Fort Sumter was fired upon few of us were peeping. But ten years before that--10 years--Judge Colvig trundled into the city of Portland, Oregon, with his father and mother and four other children behind a yoke of oxen, and camped amid the pine stumps near what was then the Weekly Oregonian.
    When Franklin Pierce was in the White House and Daniel Webster was orating for the benefit of our grade school readers, away back there when women wore hoop skirts and young men sported silken whiskers instead of creased trousers and rainbow socks--Dr. W. J. Colvig decided that he would take his wife and five children from St. Joe, Missouri, and make what was then a five months' voyage across the plains to the Pacific Ocean.
    They started with five yoke of cattle and they arrived in Portland with two, which indicates briefly was traveling was in those days.
    Portland was a sad, dismal place at that time and in the spring of 1852 the family hitched up the oxen again and started for the south, finally settling in Canyonville, Douglas County, where Judge Colvig's father started to practice medicine and run a drug store on the side.
    And here you could write about Indians and massacres and pioneering to your heart's content. For the judge is no ordinary resident. He's an institution. He's got a history longer than the Constitution of the United States. He could fill the congressional library with yarns of the old days and they would be calculated to instruct as well as amuse.
    For let it be said . . . that the judge, for an Oregonian, has one surpassing distinction. He has a sense of humor. Oregonians in general are supposed only to have a sense of locality.
    This gives him the subtle insight which makes him a keen judge of the weaknesses as well as the virtues of the mossback pioneers. He perceives their lack of progressiveness, but he also perceives their sturdy and reliable qualities.
    But to return to Canyonville and the early days. The judge planted some watermelons in the sticky and they grew like Newfoundland puppies, but finally the sun came out and the soil warped and cracked until there were crevices from four to eight inches in width running through the melon patch. In these the melons fell, but the judge still had hopes and would pull them up every now and then and thump their sides in great expectancy. But one night it rained and the next morning the sticky was as smooth as a mud puddle and the melons were never recovered until potato digging started the next fall.
    The judge remembers the time the government started a military road through the state to Southern Oregon, and Col. Joe Hooker, who afterwards fought the "battle above the clouds" at Lookout Mountain, was in charge of the work at Canyonville. The colonel put in most of his time during the winter playing "seven-up" for the drinks in the hotel barrooms, while the boys under him were at work up the canyon.
    News from the states was fresh then if it was three months old.
    "I remember," says the judge, "that it was about January, 1853, my father put me on a pony and sent me some miles distant to borrow a St. Louis Dispatch that was reported to have been received by a neighbor. My father was a Whig and wanted to hear that General Scott was elected president. I got the paper but under the strict promise to keep it and return it the next day.
    "When we take a comparative view of the wild freedom of life in those days, its careless simplicity and its utter lack of social distinctions, we almost regret the advanced position into which we have been crowded. In those days we boys all wore buckskin breeches. You couldn't wear them out. When they were outgrown they went on down the line to the next boy in size. If there was any special reason to have them look clean then Mother would send us down to the riverbank where we had a kind of an otter slide in the sand and we would sit down and slide and then lie down and slide until they were clean fore and aft."
    You'd never believe that today as you see the judge walking up and down the street with that erect square-shouldered walk of his, or presiding over the Commercial Club, of which he has so long been president.
    But speaking of the street walk, there is a reason for that. If you look sharp you will notice that there is a copper-colored button in the lapel of the judge's coat which signifies that he fought for Uncle Sam and Abe Lincoln in the war of the rebellion. On the fifth of April, 1863, he enlisted at Camp Baker, half a mile from the present town of Phoenix, and remained in the service exactly three years, Company C, 1st Oregon. After service in Eastern Oregon, Idaho and Nevada he was discharged at Fort Vancouver, April 5, 1866.
    At this point Billy Colvig had just reached his twenty-first birthday, had traveled across the continent in a wagon and had served three years in the Civil War. Think that over for a few minutes.
    But the young man wanted to see something of the world. In his memory Jacksonville, Oregon represented the nearest approach to a metropolis that he had seen. Medford had not been born yet. What is now a city was a wilderness of trees and grass with an occasional sawmill between Bear Creek and the present county seat.
    So the judge set sail for San Francisco, and with all his earthly possessions done up in a handkerchief re-embarked there for New York City via Nicaragua. And here, of course, is where the villain steps in. Someone copped the handkerchief with all the $480 in it, and Billy had a view of his first city and his first railroad with just $1.75 in his pocket.
    It was while making his way to Uncle Three Balls, that traditional savior of genius and rescuer of the unfortunate [a pawn shop], that our hero saw an announcement of the discovery of oil fields in Pennsylvania. John D. Rockefeller had not organized the Oil Trust then, and if the judge had had that $480 in his pocket and followed the impulse he would now be the proprietor of a marble palace on Fifth Avenue and eating nightingales' tongues before breakfast, instead of getting up at 5 a.m. and sprinkling the lawn. And whether a kind Fate or an unkind Fate was responsible let some of our master moralists decide.
    But after pawning his watch and other valuables the judge hied to Pennsylvania but did find work there so followed the oil excitement through town to Virginia, then tackled Illinois and finally felt drawn to his old birthplace, Missouri, where he went to work threshing hemp with a hand break on the 1,200-acre plantation belonging to General Joe Shelby of the Confederate Army. The confederate liked the Union soldier's work so much that the appointed him foreman and in the fall of 1868 the judge moved back to Tremont, Illinois with $500 in his pocket.
    At this time the judge was twenty-four years old. He had never been through the fundamental rules of arithmetic. Had never seen a grammar. His education had been neglected. He went two years through an independent course in Tremont Collegiate Institute and secured a first-grade certificate to teach. For a month he taught in the Tremont schools, which, by the way, was the home of the late Harvey Scott, and meanwhile studied law under Judge A. W. Rodecker of Pekin, Ill.
    The judge came back to the coast by the publishing route. Becoming interested in some sort of concern that put out county and state histories, the Pacific Coast Publishing Company was established and Wm. Colvig was appointed manager, going to California just in time to see the concern go into the hands of a receiver. Meantime revenue was coming in from the history of Richland County, Ohio he had written and also a history of Minnesota, and deciding not to return to the East the judge returned to his father and mother and there was a glorious family reunion after an absence of thirteen years.
    After serving as school superintendent for two terms the judge was elected district attorney for the district which then comprised Jackson, Josephine and Lake counties, and later opened a law office in the metropolis of Jackson County, Jacksonville. It was not until 1906 that the president of the Commercial Club moved to Medford, although he joined that body the year before. For three years he has held that position, and although he tried a few months ago to resign, the members of the organization would have none of it. The judge is a member of the Oregon State Text Book Commission of five members, and he was supreme master of the A.O.U.W. when it had a membership of three-quarters of a million.
    But above all he is Medford's grand young man. When any distinguished visitors come to the city, when there is any representative delegation for the city, the judge is the man to welcome the one, and form a part of the other. Just now he is in Astoria representing Medford at the centennial celebration; and needless to say he will represent it well.
Medford Sun, August 13, 1911, page 3

    William M. Colvig gave one of his interesting and entertaining talks [at the meeting of the Oregon Development League in Astoria]. He is known to be one of the best and wittiest public speakers in Oregon, and he was at his best. He spoke as follows:
    "For three years past I have been the president of the Medford Commercial Club, and, with my associates, have induced a great many people to come to Oregon, many of whom are now basking in the sunshine of happier and more prosperous days than they had ever known before, and yet I am sorry to say there are a few others who seem to have been 'over-much persuaded,' and who have either returned to the familiar faces of their old homes in the East or are found wandering up and down the Pacific Coast cussing the country and everybody in it. These few need parental guidance and should not have crossed the threshold where the 'old folks stay.'
    "As loyal citizens of Oregon we should be glad to welcome among us all those who are not afraid to face the obstacles which lie in the pathway of every new civilization. We should not hesitate to sing the praises of our home in this land of rich endowment, but there is danger that we may overdraw the picture and offer inducements that will never be realized by those who may come. We must, therefore, be careful in all our statements so that we will not be afraid to face the newcomer when he arrives.
    "At the last meeting of the Development League one of the members who addressed it advocated the plan of sending agents to the cheap labor countries of Southern Europe for the purpose of inducing immigrants from there to this state. In my opinion no greater calamity could possibly befall us than to have a heavy immigration of that class to Oregon. We do not need them; they do not assimilate with our people nor add any strength to our civilization. They are incapable of appreciating the liberty which we enjoy, and so I am constrained to say that the fewer we have of such people the better it will be for the welfare of the commonwealth. But we may joyfully receive among us people from Great Britain, from the Scandinavian and Germanic countries of Europe, from France and from Russia, because their standards of life are not dissimilar to our own and they readily understand the duties of enlightened citizenship.
    "These fertile valleys, held aloft in the arms of the mighty mountains that surround them, are gems in the diadem of Nature's God, and the time will come when this power and the influence of the civilization here established will be recognized and felt throughout the nations of  Earth, and for these reasons it is not alone numbers that we should seek to attract hither, but quality as well."
"Awaken, Pleads Wilcox to Oregon," Morning Oregonian, Portland, August 15, 1911, page 1

Judge Colvig Resents Being Called a Liar and Despite His Age

He Retaliates with Well-Placed Blow--Heated Argument Over Roads
    Because he called William M. Colvig, president of the Commercial Club and booster-in-chief of Medford and the Rogue River Valley, a liar, Jesse Houck had his face slapped--and Colvig did it.
    The passing of the lie came during an argument over the good roads bond issue. Colvig and Houck , who is fighting the issue, had had it up and down for several minutes when Houck asked:
    "And what have you got for all of your efforts in this valley?"
    "I've got about $5000," was the reply of the judge, "and I earned every dollar of it--that's more than you can say, for your father left you yours."
    "You're a liar," declared Houck.
    Thereupon Judge Colvig, though 66 years of age, slapped Houck's face, in spite of the fact that Houck is a much younger man. Then bystanders interfered.
Medford Mail Tribune, September 26, 1911, page 8

Mr. Houck Gives His Version
To the Editor of The Sun:
    In an article published in the Medford Tribune a statement was made in large headlines, "Houck Has His Face Slapped," and following purports to be a statement of an altercation between the undersigned and W. M. Colvig.
    I desire to state that Houck didn't have his face slapped by Mr. Colvig nor by anyone else, and the statement given by the Tribune regarding the altercation is entirely erroneous, to use the mildest term that can be applied to it. Perhaps the recital of the affair is maliciously wrong rather than simply erroneous.
    Mr. Colvig came into the Nash Hotel, where Elmer Oatman, W. M. Smith and myself were sitting, and engaged in a conversation regarding the proposed bond issue, when Mr. Oatman expressed his objections to the proposed issue, when Mr. Colvig replied that the country would amount to but little if we had such citizens only as several citizens whom he named, including myself, mentioning me by name, although I had not participated in the conversation or argument relative to it, Mr. Colvig's remarks being directed to Mr. Oatman more particularly. And at this juncture turned to me and said, "You haven't done anything for Medford." I answered by stating that I thought I had done as much as he had for Medford, when Mr. Colvig said: "You haven't done anything but what your father left you; you never earned a cent for yourself." I did not resent this statement at all.
    Mr. Colvig then said that the bond issue was opposed by George Dunn and Josh Japperson and other citizens because they were turned down and were "sore." To this statement I replied that if these men were opposing the bond issue it was for substantial reasons and not because they were sore--that they were too much of the gentleman class to be guilty of opposition for that reason, and that if anybody had asserted that this was the cause for their opposition it was a lie.
    When I made this statement Mr. Colvig struck at me while I was sitting in my chair. I warded off the blow with my shoulder, rising at the time, when he struck at me a second time. He did not strike me either time, although he struck with his clenched fist and not with his open hand. I backed away from him, saying: "Mr. Colvig, you are too old a man for me to strike." I repeatedly told Mr. Colvig that I did not call him a liar and did not intend to convey the idea that I was calling him a liar.
    The argument over the bond issue was started by Mr. Colvig and not by myself, nor did I make any statement during the course of the argument to call for Mr. Colvig's assertion that I had nothing but what my father had left me, and merely defended the reputation of George Dunn and Patterson against the assaults of Colvig, that they were "sore" and therefore were opposing the bond issue. My statement did not convey the idea that Mr. Colvig was a liar or that I thought he was--but did convey the idea and impression that these statements . . . made indiscriminately about Dunn and Patterson were lies.
    There was no occasion for Mr. Colvig's hostility to me, and the attack was unprovoked on my part. Mr. Colvig was entirely the aggressor in this trouble.
        Very respectfully,
                JESSE HOUCK.
    Medford, Sept. 27.
    We desire to state that we were present at the difficulty mentioned in the foregoing article, and the statement made above is a correct statement of the affair.
                W. M. SMITH
                E. R. OATMAN
Medford Sun, September 28, 1911, page 4

Medford Attorney Quits Law to Conduct Publicity Campaign.
    MEDFORD, Or., Nov. 9.--(Special.)--At its annual meeting Monday night the Medford Commercial Club adopted an entirely new system of management. William M. Colvig, who retired after three years as president, was made president and manager at a salary of $250 a month, and the entire management of the organization will be in his hands.
    Heretofore Mr. Colvig has served as president without pay, and the active management has been in the hands of a salaried secretary. Under the new arrangement President Colvig will only have a stenographer to look after the routine work of the office and will devote his entire time to publicity work, retiring from the practice of law after 30 years as an attorney.
    George Boos, former secretary, retires to take the secretaryship of the newly formed Southern Railway Company, now applying for a franchise for an electric line in Medford and through the valley from Ashland to Eugene.
Morning Oregonian, Portland, November 10, 1911, page 10

    The Legislature did, indeed, a few years ago authorize the appointment by the Governor of a Board of Immigration, but as it appropriated no money with which to prosecute its duties, it fell by the wayside. I recall that in selecting its five members I afterward discovered that they were all Republicans. This, of course, was unintentional, and as the appointees had not yet been announced, I wrote to William M. Colvig, of Jacksonville, that I was desirous of appointing him on the new Board of Immigration, principally because I was hunting for a good Democrat who would not shirk the responsibilities of the position. Colvig, besides being a very able lawyer, is a born wag, and in his reply of acceptance said:
    "With pleasure I will accept your appointment and will so far try to fulfill your expectations of me that within two years I hope to secure the immigration of five thousand Missouri Democrats, not only because they would make splendid citizens, but, if possible, I want to change the political complexion of this Black Republican state."
    The joke was finally on Colvig, however, for the stand the Democratic Party soon afterward took on the question of expansion caused him to become a Republican on national questions, and his threatened inroad on the Missouri Democracy was never carried into effect.
T. T. Geer, Fifty Years in Oregon, New York, 1912, pages 525-526

Home Sweet Home for this Judge
    MEDFORD, Ore., Jan. 16.--"Oregon for mine. No more Los Angeles and San Francisco. I met Jim Jeffries in Los Angeles and lost my diamond scarf pin in San Francisco. That's enough to discourage any tourist," said Judge W. M. Colvig, aspirant for Congress, who has just returned from a tour of the South.
    "In San Francisco," said the judge, "I was seeing sights New Year's Eve when a young woman with a three-foot feather plume threw a bag of confetti in my eyes. When I got them open my diamond and the girl had gone.
    "In Los Angeles I was introduced to Jim Jeffries. I told him I had heard a little about him. He merely grunted, glared at me and then walked away."
The Tacoma Times, January 16, 1912, page 1

Judge Colvig and the Ballad
(From the Portland Spectator)
    Have you read "A White Pine Ballad," a mere trifle written by Bret Harte in the olden, golden days of California? It tells the story of Milton Perkins, late an owner in White Pine, who desired to see the sights, and met a bee-yutiful young lady in his travels. And have you met Judge William M. Colvig of Medford? Here are a couple of verses from the "Ballad":

"Milton Perkins," said the Siren, "Not thy wealth do I admire,
But the intellect that flashes from those eyes of opal fire;
And methinks the name thou hearest surely cannot be misplaced,
And, embrace me, Mister Perkins!" Milton Perkins her embraced.
But I grieve to state, that even then, as she was wiping dry
The tear of sensibility in Milton Perkins' eye,
She prigged his diamond bosom pin, and that her wipe of lace
Did seem to have of chloroform a most suspicious trace.
    Why do I ask if you have read "A White Pine Ballad"? And why do I print these here two verses of the same? And why do I ask if you know Judge Colvig? Well, I'll tell you. They remind me of Judge Colvig, the greatest natural-born "booster" and sighter [sic] in the world, and a little adventure he had in San Francisco on New Year's Eve. The Judge was on Market Street with the rest of the world, enjoying the sights, when a beautiful young creature ran up to him, and with a happy cry of "Father, dear Father," threw her lovely arms about his neck. Fearing that an abrupt disavowal of parentage would shock the charming girl, the Judge generously forbore a too-sudden revelation. But he had to reveal the truth, which he did very tenderly.
    "What!" cried the young lady; "not my father! I am not your chee-ild! O hevvings!" The pretty girl sobbed convulsively. "But"--and a beaming smile shone through the wet clouds on her face--"you are a perfect dear, anyway. And I'll embrace you again." Which she did. And she passed on, out of the life of Judge William M. Colvig of Medford. And with her went Judge Colvig's scarf pin and his valuable watch.
    That is why I ask you if you have read the "Ballad" and if you know Judge Colvig.
Medford Mail Tribune, January 22, 1912, page 4

Colvig Receives Sympathy--and a Watch
(From the Portland Spectator)
    A few lines that appeared here last week referring in a sad and condolent way to the misfortune that befell Judge William M. Colvig, of Medford, in San Francisco stirred to speedy and heartfelt commiseration some of the eminent attorney's many friends. Judge Colvig's loss--it will be recalled that a very lovely young lady, who pretended that she thought the judge was her beloved paternal parent, deftly removed his scarf pin and watch with one hand the while she caressed him with the other--touched to the very core the generous heart of Senator George W. Joseph, of this city, and drew from him a most sympathetic letter and a handsome timepiece to take the place of the one that was lost. Here is Senator Johnson's letter; the first time you see Judge Colvig have him show you the watch:
    Portland, Ore., Jan. 20.--Honorable Wm. M. Colvig, Medford. My Dear Mr. Colvig: Herewith you will find enclosed a clipping from one of the leading papers of our city (The Spectator) which relates an experience you had in San Francisco.
    Judge, you will remember that I was one of the graduating class at Lakeview before whom you spoke and whom you addressed, and to whom you gave the best advice, and you told us how careful to be throughout our lives as to our conduct, and really, I believe your expressions of that evening have, up to the present time, had a great influence over my conduct.
    Only shortly prior to that time, I had come in from the sheep range, where I had been the tender sheep lad, and yourself and Judge Webster appeared to me to be great personages, and for whom I had the most profound respect, and I wondered if I ever would be looked upon by children or young persons as we looked upon you and the judge.
    However, it seems that this life is but a series of great disappointments, and the last great disappointment which I have experienced is when I realized the full purport of the story which I herewith enclose. You know, Judge, your appearance to me when I was young was so far from anything of this kind. You were large, stately, and had one of the kindest faces I ever gazed upon, and your greatness in the estimation of myself and schoolmates was not lessened by the simplicity of your conduct. One by one the ideals of my life have been shattered. I have seen many of the older pioneers whom I have emulated pass away, some of them disgraced, some of them in disgrace, but as time has gone on during the last 25 years, at intervals I would hear your name mentioned, or see it in the papers, and all of the greatness which I had conjured up in my mind concerning you appeared, and I hesitated so as to absorb and fully realize the same and secure therefrom the greatest benefit. Upon reading this article I feel like one who has been traveling on a road with some happy destination in view, and who, while traveling to gain that destination, on a dark night tumbled of a precipice and was dashed to pieces.
    Hoping that you will not allow any fair damsel to repeat this conduct with you, and that you may preserve your watch, and not have any use for any scarf pin in the future, I am, with kindliest recollections,
Yours very sincerely,
    P.S.--I have this day sent you a watch, and the price thereof certainly would not deter you from taking risks. However, simply as a timepiece and not as an allurement you will find it sufficient.
Medford Mail Tribune, February 6, 1912, page 4

Judge Colvig Explains and Justifies
(From the Portland Spectator)
    It affords me much pleasure to publish the following letter written to Senator George W. Joseph by Judge William M. Colvig, anent the recent robbery in which a beauteous San Francisco lady "went through" the distinguished jurist as if he had been an unresisting child. The letter is at once an explanation and a justification. It pleases me greatly to learn that the news of Judge Colvig's loss was greatly exaggerated; he assures us that he did not lose his watch. This fact, however, in no way detracts from the splendid generosity of Senator Joseph, who immediately on hearing that his guide, philosopher and friend had been robbed of his watch, graciously sent him a beautiful timepiece. Senator Joseph knows that he who gives quickly gives doubly; so Judge Colvig may be said to have three watches. Here is Judge Colvig's letter:
Medford, Ore., Jan. 17, 1912.
    My Dear Friend Joseph: In replying to your elaborate sentiments of sympathetic grief over my recent loss of time, all barriers of common speech must give way to the multitudinous vocabulary of my imaginative soul. Aside from your condolatory epistle I have but one other consolation in this darkened hour of gloom; and that is the thought that--

She who steals my watch, steals trash,
But she who robs me of my good name
Robs me of that which benefits her not,
And makes me poor indeed.
    Ever since Adam took the tempting Rogue River apple from the lovely hands of Mother Eve, there has been an inherent tendency in the sons of men to give way on great occasions, and it is extremely problematical if we shall ever be able to overcome the weakness of the flesh.
    Your own uprightness and exemplary circumspection in the wide domain of morality, which makes your immaculate manhood stand out like a beacon light on the dangerous reefs of sin and wickedness, are perhaps attributable to some of the wise philosophies of life that I taught you in those ancient days which you mention--days ere you had drunk so deeply at the Pierian spring!

Still o'er those scenes my mem'ry wakes,
And fondly broods with miser care,
Time but the impression stronger makes,
As streams their channels deeper wear.
    But seriously, I did not lose my watch at San Francisco--that fiction was started by a "Son of Belial," who is connected with our local paper.
    I did, however, lose a most elegant jade scarf pin. The watch which you sent me is full compensation financially for this loss--and then I had some fun in losing, besides.
    In return for your kindness, I enclose herewith a "Medford peach," taken from our late booklet, the kind you and the editor of the Spectator are generally looking for. Extent to him my thanks for the poetry--it pays to advertise. As ever, your friend,
    The picture of which Judge Colvig speaks, and which he was good enough to send to Senator Joseph in return for the watch, is, indeed, a rare work of art. It shows a ripe and luscious peach, which the bright warm smiles of the Rogue River Valley sun have kissed to the most delicious perfection. Unfortunately, the name is blurred, but Senator Joseph says that it is not unlikely that Judge Colvig's is the hand that limned the beautiful counterfeit presentiment of the sweetest product of the Rogue River Valley, and that only his modesty restrained him from claiming its authorship.
Medford Mail Tribune, February 12, 1912, page 4

    Judge Wm. Colvig left for Portland Saturday in answer to a telegram stating that Mrs. Colvig, who is in a hospital in that city, was not so well.
"Local and Personal," Medford Mail Tribune, February 12, 1912, page 2

    Mrs. William M. Colvig, who was brought to this city Saturday from a Portland hospital, has suffered no relapse from the journey. Last night her condition, while serious, was as good as could be expected, as she stood the trip well. She was resting as well as could be expected late last night.
    Judge and Mrs. W. M. Colvig returned Saturday from Portland. Mrs. Colvig is very ill and has been in a Portland hospital for several months. Superintendent L. R. Fields of the Southern Pacific very kindly placed his private car "California" at the disposal of Mr. Colvig, and the car was attached to passenger train No. 15 this morning, and upon the train's arrival it was put on a siding in the Medford yards to be returned to Portland Sunday. This act of courtesy on the part of Mr. Fields was greatly appreciated by Mr. Colvig in that it gave him an opportunity to administer to the needs of Mrs. Colvig while en route, which he could not have done had they made the trip in a standard car.
Medford Sun, February 25, 1912, page 2


Woman Born in 1846 Is Survived by Widower and Five Children Who Live at Medford.
    MEDFORD, Or., Feb. 25.--(Special.)--Addie Birdseye Colvig, wife of Judge William M. Colvig, one of the oldest settlers in Southern Oregon, died at her home in Medford this morning, aged 66 years. Mrs. Colvig was operated on in Portland, January 3, for cancer.
    Realizing the seriousness of her condition, Mrs. Colvig requested that she be taken to her home in this city, and a private car of the Southern Pacific Company was placed at the family's disposal. She was taken to Medford Saturday, attended by her nurses and physician, Dr. Geary, of Portland. She lived only 12 hours after her arrival.
    Mrs. Colvig was the daughter of David and Clara Birdseye, who came to Jackson County in 1852. She was born at Fort Birdseye, on the Birdseye donation land claim, at the mouth of Foots Creek, near Woodville.
    She was married to W. M. Colvig June 8, 1879, and they lived on the Birdseye farm until 1886, when they moved to Jacksonville. In 1906 the family came to Medford.
    Mrs. Colvig was Grand Chief of Honor of the Degree of Honor of the Ancient Order of United Workmen of the state eight years ago and was well known throughout this section of Oregon.
    Five children survive, all living in Medford. They are: Mrs. Clarence L. Reames, Mrs. R. G. Gale, Mrs. Will Warner, Vance and Donald Colvig. The funeral will be held Monday, Rev. Joseph Sheerin, of the Episcopal Church, officiating, and burial will be at the Jacksonville Cemetery. Her son-in-law, Clarence L. Reames, is Exalted Ruler of the Medford Lodge of Elks and her son Donald also is an Elk. The Medford Elks will accompany the body to the grave.

Oregonian, Portland, February 26, 1912, page 5

    In the death of Mrs. William M. Colvig, in her home at Medford, Jackson County lost another of its pioneers and a most estimable member of its civic life. Mrs. Colvig was the wife of Judge William M. Colvig, and both are widely known over Southern Oregon.
    Mrs. Colvig was a native of Jackson County. She was born at Ft. Birdsey, near Foots Creek. She was the daughter of David and Clara Birdsey, who settled on a donation land claim in 1852. Her father died several years ago, but her mother, who is now 78 years of age, is still living, her home still being on the old donation claim. She was married to William M. Colvig on June 8, 1878, and lived with her husband on land adjoining the Birdsey homestead until 1886, when she moved to Jacksonville with her family. The family resided in Jacksonville nineteen years, moving to Medford in 1905, where she has since resided.
    Mrs. Colvig was prominent in social and lodge affairs, and a few years ago was grand chief of honor of the Degree of Honor, a woman's auxiliary to the Ancient Order of United Workmen. She was the mother of seven children, five of whom, together with her husband, survive her. The children now living are Mrs. C. L. Reames, Mrs. R. G. Gale, Mrs. W. J. Warner, Vance and Donald Colvig, all living in Medford.
Rogue River Courier, Grants Pass, March 1, 1912, page 4

    When shown the article in the Mail Tribune of yesterday stating that the station between Foots Creek and Birdseye Creek would be named "Rosey," A. S. Rosenbaum, local agent of the Southern Pacific Company, said that while he could not make the statement officially, he was satisfied the station would be called "Colvig," the same being appropriate inasmuch as Judge Colvig lived in that section of the county for years and has been prominent in the history of Southern Oregon. It is intimated a suggestion to that effect has been sent the Southern Pacific Company, and the railroad directory shows no "Colvig" as a railroad station in America.
Medford Mail Tribune weekly edition, May 2, 1912, page 3

    Don Colvig and Miss Star Marshall will be married Wednesday, leaving shortly after for Portland for a short honeymoon trip, after which they will settle down in their new home in Oak Park. Both of the young people have a host of friends in the city, who wish them well. Mr. Colvig is the son of Judge Wm. M. Colvig and with the Southern Pacific Company, and Miss Marshall is the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. George E. Marshall.
Medford Mail Tribune, May 6, 1912, page 4

    In gratitude to the Southern Pacific for perpetuating his name by naming a new station just south of Grant Pass "Colvig," Judge W. M. Colvig last evening entertained John M. Scott, general passenger agent of the Southern Pacific, at the Hotel Medford. Other guests were W. H. Jenkins, A. S. Rosenbaum and Harry H. Hicks.
Medford Mail Tribune, May 10, 1912, page 3

    William Colvig, one of Medford's best-known residents, arrived here today to attend the festivities attendant to the meeting of Shriners which occurs in Roseburg tomorrow.
"Local News," Evening News, Roseburg, August 30, 1912, page 1

    Judge Colvig is the original and only booster--all others are imitations. He was born in Missouri, and lived in Jacksonville for a time, both for which we forgave him, as he now spends all his time convincing people that the best place on earth is Medford in Southern Oregon.
    At a recent meeting of the Chamber of Commerce in Los Angeles, during which all the local members spoke in glowing terms of their own city, Judge Colvig, being present, was invited to speak. The Judge arose and said he did not feel that he could add anything to the beautiful tributes that had been paid to Los Angeles, but that what he had heard reminded him of the following story:
    "A party of Los Angeles people who had departed this vale of tears were being shown through the Celestial Regions. As St. Peter pointed out the pearly gates and golden streets their admiration was unbounded, and they expressed themselves with such exclamations as 'Beautiful'; 'This reminds us of Los Angeles'; 'This is just like home.' As they proceeded they came to a beautiful place wherein a group of people were chained to the floor with heavy chains. Upon asking St. Peter who these people were, and why they [were] chained, he replied: 'Those people came from the Rogue River Valley, and we have to chain them to keep them here.'"
Minnie (Mrs. H. C.) Stoddard, "Medford's Hall of Fame," Medford Mail Tribune, December 18, 1912, page 4

May 15, 1912 Medford Mail Tribune
May 15, 1912 Medford Mail Tribune

COLVIG, William Mason, Lawyer; born  Ray Co., Mo., Sept. 2, 1845; son, William Lyngae and Helen (Mar) C.; grandson of Jacob Lyngae Colvig, who fought under Napoleon and received a medal of honor for bravery at Lodi. "Educated in a log school house." Married, Addie Birdseye, June 8, 1879, at Rock Point, Ore. Dir., Medford Natl. Bank; Pres., Medford Commercial Club. 3 years enlistment, 1863-66, Co. C, 1st Ore. Cav. Vols. 2 terms Co. Supt. Schools, Jackson Co., Ore., 3 terms, Dist. Atty., 1st Jud. Dist., Ore.; 12 years, member of Oregon Textbook Commission; 4 years, Adj. Gen., Ore. State Militia. Democrat, until McKinley campaign, since a Republican. Has lived in Oregon 61 years. Address: Medford, Ore.
Harper, Franklin, ed., Who's Who on the Pacific Coast, 1913, page 120

    The Sun extends to Judge Colvig, the retiring manager of the Medford Commercial Club, its best wishes and joins with his many other friends in the hope that he will continue his invaluable assistance in the carrying out of the club's policy.
    Judge Colvig took charge of the affairs of the club just at the time when the whole country was suffering from a depression, and consequently he has not as many deeds performed to point to as his predecessors.
    In his work for the local good roads bill Judge Colvig was unflagging in his industry while the scientists' trip to Crater Lake was planned and carried out to such perfection that not a single hitch arose to in any way mar the occasion.
    Judge Colvig has made many new friends during his term of office and he has not lost any of his old friends.
Medford Sun, January 9, 1913, page 4

    William H. Crane [, "Dean of the American Stage,"] who is 68 years old, only one year younger than Sarah Bernhardt, says the reason he can gallop about like a young, frisky colt is because Sarah has lived abnormally and he has lived normally.
*    *    *
    Right in the midst of the chat Mr. Crane fished a long, yellow envelope out of his pocket, and, laughing as gleefully as a mischievous boy, spread out its two closely written pages and read this aloud. It was dated Medford, Or., and written on the 19th. After the usual preliminaries it began:
    Thirty-seven years ago I applied to you for a position with the Hooley Stock Company, of Chicago, and received the enclosed letter from you in which there is a promise to let me hear further in regard to the matter. Ever since then I have been standing on the very tiptoe of expectation--waiting for the opportunity to appear before the footlights and "hold the mirror up to Nature." I have always believed that your forgetfulness on that occasion robbed the world of a great actor and imposed on the innocent public a very indifferent lawyer. About the time your present appearance in Portland was announced I was overhauling some old papers and ran onto your letter of January 23, 1875. In those ancient days I often met you, thought it is not probable that you remember it. I think it probable that I will run down next week and be one of your audience. Sincerely,
                WILLIAM M. COLVIG.
    And this is the letter enclosed with Mr. Colvig's. It is dated January 25, 1875, in Chicago, and written on a sheet of ruled tablet paper:
    Your letter rec'd. Mr. Hooley desires me to say that there is really no position vacant in the Co. at present that could benefit you in any way. Will keep your address and should any chance occur where you could attain what you desire, will advise you of the same. Very truly yours,
                WM. H. CRANE,
                Stage Manager, Hooley's Theater.
Leone Cass Baker, "Crane Gives Secret," Morning Oregonian, Portland, March 22, 1913, page 9

    Along with a cartoon showing him taking his ease in an upholstered rocker, the Fort Worth, Texas Star Telegram devotes considerable space to our Judge Wm. M. Colvig, who returned from Dallas and the convention of Shriners Monday. The Judge says Dallas and nearby cities treated the visitors with hospitality never before equaled at a Shriners' meeting, and that the side trips and special features kept him busy every minute.
    As an example of how the Judge gently kidded the southern reporters, the following from the Star Telegram is quoted:
    "Judge William Mason Colvig, of Medford, Oregon, is lonesome no more. It so happened that Fred E. Johnson, who is chairman of the Shriners' publicity committee, heard that Judge Colvig was looking for a disciple of the art preservative."
    When Fred found the Judge he discovered him armed with an "original poem." It read:
    "I have wandered far from the sundown sea, o'er many miles of burning sand. I am lonely tonight as I can be, in Texas by the Rio Grande."
    "Instead of printing the Judge's lay of loneliness, Fred introduced him to a bevy of Dallas' dutiful daughters, who took charge of the Judge. One of them drives her father's auto, and they have been taking the Judge to and from the different 'doings' ever since.
    "Judge Colvig was representative to the imperial council from Hillas Temple of Ashland, Oregon, the smallest city in the world with a Shrine temple. He is also past potentate of Hillas."
Medford Mail Tribune, May 27, 1913, page 5

By William M. Colvig, [pioneer of] 1851.
    Mr. President, Ladies and Gentlemen of the Pioneer Association of Oregon:
    In the year 1878, I delivered an address to the pioneers of Southern Oregon. The subject was then new to my thoughts, and I was about forty years nearer the events that are pertinent to this hour and occasion than I am today. I will now find it difficult and well-nigh impossible to wander from the beaten track and avoid the pathway of thought then blazed through the dim and misty recollections of those early days. Nor will I, at this time, attempt to do more than make that pathway plainer, and bring before your minds a review of some of the wild scenes of Oregon's early settlement.
    In looking back over the history of the past, from the dawn of civilization down to the present time, we see that in every age and clime there have been bold and fearless pioneers in all the doubtful ways of human advancement--for not only have they discovered, explored and prepared for habitation the hitherto unknown wilds of earth, but they are also found to have been in the front rank in every struggle where the energies of the race have pushed a farther limit, or taken a more advanced position.
    All that we now enjoy of art, of literature, of science or of government has come to us in slow payments for unremitting toil and persevering labor.
    The whole earth was a vast wilderness, unpenetrated by the light and power of human knowledge and skill, and the mind of man was enveloped by the dark night of ignorance and superstition. He has in the long past but feebly comprehended his close relation to Nature's God, and the divine power of his own soul. Hence, his progress has been slow and toilsome. It is said in Holy Writ, "Knock, and the door will open unto you--Seek, and ye shall find," and we know that whenever man has knocked at any door of Truth, in any line, it has opened unto him, and has revealed the long-time hidden mysteries of the Divine law. But at last man came to a better conception of his own nature and of Nature's laws; then the horizon of his future destiny began to disclose the first faint rays of a brighter day, and to paint glorious prophecies on the borders of his moral night. Then it was that the onward march of progress commenced with accelerated pace.
    Daring pioneers led the way, and smote the rocks for the thirsty multitudes that followed. In one age, standing out in bold relief on the distant shores of Time, we see a Confucius--a Seneca--a Divine Christ and his apostles, teaching a better philosophy of human morals, and a more hopeful religion; and yet, along the three-thousand-year pathway of civilization, were other great leaders exploring the realms of art, of literature, of science and of government. An Appelles or an Angelo in Art. A Homer--a Virgil--a Dante, or an Olympia Morata in the fields of Literature. A Cicero or a Justinian teaching a clearer conception of Justice, and laying the foundations of nations yet unborn. A Galileo--a Newton--a Marconi, or an Edison, seeking, finding and revealing some of the great truths of the laws of Nature, and extending the domain of human knowledge. Many others could be named who have zealously knocked at the doors of Truth, and who have been the divinely appointed leaders in their respective fields of work; but these few are enough to show that pioneers have led, and must yet lead, the destinies of the race through all the unexplored mazes of the future.
"'Fools only wander from the broad highway,'
So spake the multitude, whose beaten track
Some lone soul's patient labor, ages back,
Hewed from the living rock, that therein they--
The children's children--might walk free today."
    Foremost among the pioneers of earth must ever be the heralds of a new civilization. It is only the protecting aegis of national power that can foster the excellencies of the human heart, and make the pathways of life bloom with the varied flowers of culture and refinement.
    The March of Empire precedes all else, and has from the time that Moses led the rebellious tribes of Israel from the land of bondage, down to that era when you pioneers took up your long march to the shores of the Western sea. And it is of that migration, and its manifold results, that I now come to speak.
    When you old men and women were young, and some of you were but prattling children, there came across the sands of what was known as the "Great American Desert" rumors of a rich and fertile country in the far-off West, "Where rolls the Oregon and hears no sound save its own dashings." Obeying a natural impulse of the Anglo-Saxon race to follow the Star of Empire into other lands, you pioneers of Oregon severed the ties which bound you to the homes of your childhood, and with firm steps and grim determination you turned your faces toward the setting sun, and commenced that long and weary march across the dreary wilds of the Western plains of North America. You toiled on and on for many weeks and months. Every day was burdened with trudging labor, and every night with sleepless vigils. Every step that you took was fraught with danger, and led you farther from home--from friends and kindred, and from civilization. Disease and death followed your footsteps, and many a brave adventurer was laid to rest in the sands by the roadside. Stealthy savages contested your right of way, and battles were fought to decide between you. No "pillar of cloud by day," nor "pillar of fire by night," moved on before, to guide and direct you on the perilous journey. You threaded the jungles of mountain chains, and crossed vast trackless deserts, where never before the feet of the paleface had trod. When rivers with swollen floods impeded your way, rude rafts were hastily constructed, and the journey beyond resumed. And thus, ever with hopeful hearts, you traveled on and on, till it seemed as joyous recompense for the trials passed, that the fair valleys of Oregon--uplifted in the arms of the mighty mountains around them, lay like beautiful pictures on the face of Nature, invitingly before you. No friends were here to give you welcome--no home to offer hospitality. You turned your lean and footsore oxen out to graze, and, shouldering your axes, walked into the primeval forests with yet undaunted hearts, and commenced the history of Oregon.
    Nearly three-quarters of a century has passed since those days. Happy homes now fill the valleys with joy and life. The sounds of clanging industry are heard echoing among the hills, along the rivers, and in the productive fields. The "dashings" of the lordly "Oregon" are drowned in the blaring tumult of thrift and enterprise along its shores. The red sovereigns, who once held kingly sway over the vast solitudes of mountain and vale, have "read their doom in the setting sun." The debris which marked the places where once stood their rude wigwams, has been cleared away, and palatial dwellings, lovely villages, and bustling cities now beautify the land.
    To you men and women who blazed the way to this great commonwealth, and who pushed forward and protected the infant growth of its many institutions, belong all the honor. The history of its past is but a record of your lives, and of the struggles, privations and hardships which you so bravely endured in those days that "tried the souls of men."
    Thus far I have dealt with the subject of pioneer life in a general way, and in its relation to those who first opened up the "Oregon Country" to civilization. I wish that I were better able to narrate some of the exciting scenes and events which occurred in those early days, for I see before me at this time, a few old gray heads, and bent and feeble forms, who were actors in those events. You were then in the strength of youth--men and women who only feared the God above and over you. Would that I had the power to bring before you at this time a mental vision of that long past--to call back from the Elysian fields of Heaven the company of your brave fellow pioneers, who, one by one, have made their last pilgrimage, and who now wait with outstretched hands to welcome you to that pioneer gathering on the other shore--and to hear from their immortal lips an account of the joys, the fears, and the sorrows of those wild scenes of earth. As this cannot be, you will pardon my feeble efforts in attempting to relate a few events connected with the early settlement of Oregon, as they occur to my own personal recollection, and as gathered from many scrap-written sources of information.
    I will first take up the subject of "Crossing the Plains," as I remember it, and while our trip was not so perilous as that of many others who preceded us, nor of some who came over in subsequent years, yet it is about the only way for me to proceed.
    On the 5th day of May, 1851, I was playing with my three brothers in the street fronting our home at Parksville, Platte County, Missouri--a small frontier town near Kansas City--when my father, and his hired man, drove up to the front gate with two ox-wagons; one was large and heavy, and drawn by three yoke of oxen; the other was much lighter of build, and was drawn by two yoke. The day before a sale of household effects had been held at the front door, and only those things retained which were thought to be absolutely necessary for the journey. Mother and the five children of the family (the youngest a baby of nine months of age) climbed into the lighter wagon, and then commenced the desert march to the far-off Golden West. Although I was quite young at that time, yet no event in life seems more vividly impressed upon my mind than that start. How the friends and relatives crowded around to bid us farewell and godspeed on our journey! At last the whips began to pop, and the line of white-covered wagons moved slowly up the main street of the village, enveloped in a cloud of dust raised by the feet of the many half-broke oxen that slowly dragged their heavy burdens along.
    A short halt was made at Platte City, where many other emigrants were encamped, and who were busily engaged in preparing for the trip. My father and four other men with families, acting as self-chosen charter members, began to organize a company from among the motley assembly that was there waiting for the "grass to start" before pushing ahead. A form of train government was drawn up and signed--each man pledging himself to abide by all the rules and regulations embodied and all binding themselves to stand by each other through every distress and in every adversity. A captain and other appropriate officers were elected. My father was second in command, and also physician for the company. Our whole organization consisted of twenty-seven families, and about fifty wagons. Only those who were well equipped were allowed to join us. The train was considered sufficiently large for self-protection, and not too large for camp facilities.
    At last all was ready, and we started on the long journey. He whose team headed the march today took the dust of the rear on the morrow, and it would be fifty long days before he again would be in the lead. How slowly the caravan moved over the treeless plains of the Platte! How tedious and wearisome every mile! The men walked beside the oxen, while the women and children sat in the front end of the wagon. Hundreds of miles of sagebrush and sand--not a living tree other than a few stunted cottonwoods along the streams. And do you remember the effort it required to make the wheel-oxen hold the wagons back on short pitches where it would not justify a stop to dead-lock with the chain? Not a brake on any wagon in the train. Such a simple convenience was not known--and yet, what a saving of teams it would have been if someone had suggested the idea. For protection there were no breech-loading guns, or revolvers--only the old-fashioned Kentucky rifle, and the Allen "pepperbox" pistol; the latter was a great deal more fearful in looks than in execution.
    Some people did not know how to travel even in the primitive way of those days. In our train was one of this sort. He was a little, short, bald-headed, old fellow by the name of Stump. His wife was just like him in every way--a little pudgy sort of a body, who referred every difficult problem of life to "Pa" Stump. They had started with one wagon, and two yoke of oxen. By the time we had reached Sweet Water, on past Laramie, two of his oxen had completely given out, and he called on the train government for assistance. The captain ordered an examination of Stump's outfit, for it seemed very evident that he was overloaded, and that possibly he was hauling some heavy articles which might be dispensed with. In overhauling his baggage, Captain Dunn found two brickbats, two smoothing irons, and a grindstone, besides other articles of like heaviness and equal utility. When these were thrown out, old Stump picked them up and said: "By Zounds, gentlemen! You shan't throw away my stuff. When we get out thar, them brick'll come mighty handy to scour knives on, and whar can you get any others?"
    In recent years I have traveled along portions of this same route--but while seated in a luxurious car. As I sat in the diner, choosing my breakfast from the delicacies of every clime, I thought how different from those meals I ate in 1851! Now in a comfortable chair, and in a dining car, clean and free from dust, with costly china and silverware, and napkins and finger bowls for use. In 1851, squatted on the ground, with tin plates and cups, steel forks, alkali dust, flies and bugs crawling over everything, and claiming a share; coffee, boiled in a kettle, heated by a fire made of dry "buffalo chips" and sagebrush, and bearing the odor therefrom.
    Buffalo meat was plentiful. We often saw droves of many hundreds of these wild cattle of the Plains, feeding northwardly with the season. At one place on the Platte we "laid over" for three or four days, in order to kill a few buffalo and "jerk" the meat. I remember how we had it strung in long rows along the ridgepole of the wagon cover. The meat was very black and coarse, but we youngsters found it to be good chewing as we rode over the long stretches of sand and sagebrush deserts.
    In the lighter one of our two wagons Father and Mother had their bed built in. It took up about three-fourths of the length, while the remaining one-fourth in front was the playroom for three or us younger children during the five-month journey. Mother, during the day, sat on the foot of this bed, with a babe in her arms--and I remember that she taught me to read during that summer, using an old "Elementary Spelling Book" as a textbook. At night, if tents had not been put up, which was often the case, we three older boys slept under the wagon.
    We did not have much trouble with the Indians. One day, however, a party of Sioux warriors came charging up on horseback, and began distributing their forces so that there would be a few riding at the side of each wagon. It looked like trouble was imminent. An old trapper who had joined us at St. Joe thought of a ruse to frighten them. The cholera had scourged the entire Missouri Valley in the summer of 1850 and had reaped a heavy toll from the Sioux and Blackfeet tribes. Pretty soon the curiosity of the Indians was attracted by a halt of the slow-moving caravan, and the sight of men, women and children gathered about one of the big family wagons. Some of the women were apparently crying. The Indians inquired the cause, and were told that one of the emigrant women was dying with the cholera. In five minutes you couldn't see an Indian for the dust raised by their hasty retreat. From that moment our train was marked for avoidance, and we did not see any more Indians until we reached the western side of the Rocky Mountains.
    Our train divided at or near the crossing of Green River. All but seven families took the Salt Lake route for California. Father would also have gone that way, but he had lived near "Far West," Missouri, at the time the Mormons were driven out of that state, and had made himself somewhat conspicuous in that raid, and so he thought it would be safer to avoid the domain of Brigham Young.
    Somewhere on Snake River, two ragged-looking Indians rode up near our camp, unsaddled their ponies without saying a word, and began to prepare their bed for the night. We had just had our supper. Captain Dunn said to Father: "I don't like the looks of those fellows; give them something to eat, and then we will order them to move on." The canvas cloth was yet littered with a few scraps left from our frugal meal. The Indians were beckoned to the spread. They approached and sat down opposite each other; then the elder one of the two removed an old, much-worn hat from his head, and, raising his hands in attitude of prayer, said, substantially, "Great Father! we thank thee, and pray that thou wilt bless our white friends, and guide them safely on their journey, etc." Captain Dunn was not a religious man, but when the blessing was ended, he said: "I guess those fellows are all right, and we need not disturb them." It transpired that they were from the Whitman settlement, and were going out on the emigrant trail to pick up wagons and household goods which had been discarded by the emigrants in order to lighten their loads on the last end of the journey. We left our large freight wagon standing by the side of the road up near old Fort Hall, as we only had six oxen left, and the lighter wagon was about all they could handle.
    At The Dalles, Mother and we five children, with a small amount of bedding and personal effects, were bundled into a Chinook canoe, and brought to the head of the Cascade rapids by two Indian boatmen. Father left us at The Dalles, and brought the wagon and team over the Cascade Mountains, arriving at Portland three weeks later than the rest of us, and with only three oxen left.
    At the foot of the Cascades, the family took passage on the steamer Lot Whitcomb, and on the morning of October 5, 1851, woke up at Portland. Here we were met by an old friend of my father--one whom he had known in Ohio, and later in Missouri. I refer to Thomas Carter, who lived on a donation claim which is now largely covered by the city.
    A man over on the East Side had a claim, and wanted to trade it to Father for his gun and team and wagon. Carter urged Father to take up the deal, but he replied: "Tom, I haven't crossed the continent from old Virginia to come out here and settle in a fir forest." So, in the spring of 1852, we hitched up old "John and Charley"--"Buck" having been drowned in the Tualatin River during the winter--and pulled out for Southern Oregon.
    At Winchester we found Colonel "Bill" Martin, an old Missouri friend. He was running a ferry at the crossing of the North Umpqua, but had located a "claim" about three fourths of a mile south up the river. It adjoined the donation claim of General Joseph Lane. We were very hard up, but the Colonel was willing to share what he had, so he said to Father: "Just move out thar into my cabin on the ranch, and stay thar till you have time to look around; and, say, thar is a lot of garden truck growing, which, if the little fellows here will weed out and hoe around, will give you what vegetables you need." This was a temptation not to be slighted, especially by a family of hungry boys, who had spent the preceding summer on the plains, without any garden vegetables.
    Colonel "Bill's" ranch was in that stretch of "sticky" soil between Roseburg and Winchester. In the summertime the heat of the sun causes the earth to crack open, and great fissures, varying in width from 4 to 8 inches, and to a depth of 16 inches, run in all directions. I can yet remember how industriously we boys worked over that little "truck" patch. It was July, and the melon vines were beginning to run; nice little watermelons were thickly dotted over the ground. What hopeful anticipations were aroused at the sight! They were getting almost large enough to "thump"--only a few more days to wait! But, alas, for human expectations! A hot spell ensued. The ground commenced to crack open--one by one the melons rolled in, and disappeared in the deep crevices. We yet had hopes, and would reach down in and "thump" them, but at last a heavy rain storm came--the cracks all closed up, the ground became smooth and black--not a melon in sight. We lost the whole crop, except a few that we recovered when we dug our potatoes at the close of the summer.
    We located on a claim near Canyonville, in Douglas County. We would have gone farther south, but the road through the "Canyon" seemed too formidable for our one yoke of oxen, and we were compelled to stop. The twelve miles of road immediately south of Canyonville follows a swift mountain stream, and in those days was but little more than a "pack" trail. In 1853 the government of the United States undertook the construction of a military road through the southern part of the territory. Lieutenant Joe Hooker--afterwards General Joe Hooker who fought the "Battle in the Clouds" at Lookout Mountain, Tennessee--was assigned to the work at Canyonville. I remember him quite well. He spent most of his time that fall in playing "seven-up" for the drinks at the hotel bar, while the boys were busy up in the Canyon.
    My father was postmaster in 1853, and mail day was a big event in that neighborhood. It happened about once a week, but not on any certain day. B. F Dowell, father of the present Fire Chief of the City of Portland, was the mail contractor, and also the carrier. His contract was from Oakland, Oregon, to Jacksonville. He rode one mule, and led another, upon which the mail was packed. Sometimes his mules strayed from camp, and he would be three or four days late in consequence, but time was nothing to us. News from the "States" was fresh if not more than three months after date. I remember a time, about the middle of January, 1853, when my father sent me on a pony some miles distant to borrow a St. Louis paper, called the Dispatch, which was reported to have been received by our neighbor, and which, rumor said, contained authentic news of Pierce's election. My father was a Whig, and wanted to hear that General Scott was the lucky man. I was given the newspaper, but under a strict promise to return it the next day.
    The first public school at Canyonville was taught by a man named Samuel Strong. On account of his great weakness for strong drink, he was required to enter into an undertaking to keep sober during the entire three months' term, and if he did not, his pay was thereby forfeited. Poor Sam! He earned his wages, but afterwards died with the delirium tremens, and now sleeps in the cemetery at Jacksonville.
    The Canyonville school in early days had a well-earned reputation of being hard to manage. I. N. Choynski, the father of "Joe" the pugilist, tried it one winter, but he lacked Joe's skill as a fighter, and the boys knocked him down and out. Then our ex-Congressman, Binger Hermann, drifted into the neighborhood and was employed to teach us. He shook hands with us every morning, and by his suavity of manner won our hearts, and we let him remain two terms.
    One of the first church buildings erected in the territory south of Albany was the present Methodist Church in Jacksonville. It was commenced in 1853. The Rev. Joseph Smith--sometimes known as "Carving-fork" Smith--had been sent out in 1852 to labor among the miners of Jackson County. He was an able man intellectually, but did not have the requisite tact for dealing with such a sportive community as the gold excitement had brought together at that place; so, after a brief sojourn, he became discouraged, returned to Salem, and married Julia A. Carter, of Portland, a sister of Mrs. Elizabeth Grover (who now resides in the city). Smith took up the study of law, and in 1868 was elected to Congress. During the time he was in Jacksonville, he succeeded in getting the frame of the church erected.
    In the fall of 1853, a Methodist preacher by the name of Thomas Fletcher Royal came in with the emigration, and took up the work where Smith left off. Royal was known as "Limpy" among the miners. He knew how to deal with them. He had a friendly and familiar way that took with all classes of society. On Sunday mornings he would saunter into a saloon, and watch the games, then he would say: "Boys, when you get through with the deal, let's all go down to the tent and sing some of the old songs, and listen to the reading of the Bible, like we used to do, back in the States." And the "boys" would generally turn out to hear him. One Sunday morning he stood by watching a game of faro, which an old gambler named Ad. Helms was dealing. Charley Williams, another noted gambler of that day, was playing the game. Royal spoke up, and said: "Boys, we must have some help in building our church, and I want you fellows to give us a lift." Helms said: "You would not use money got in this way for such a purpose, would you?" "Oh, yes," replied Royal, "and we would put it to a better use." Thereupon Williams, in order to test the preacher's sense of duty,spoke up and said: "All right, I'll lay a ten in the pot on this faro deal, and if it wins you take it all." Helms then said: "And if it loses, 'Limpy,' it shall be yours anyway." It was a winner; Helms handed Royal a twenty, and that was the first contribution to the little church on the corner at Jacksonville. [Helms' supposed contribution is not recorded in Royal's careful bookkeeping. Charley Williams only contributed $5. It's possible that this myth records an experience of Royal's predecessor, Joseph S. Smith.]
    When we take a comparative view of the wild freedom of life in those early years, its careless simplicity, and the utter lack of social distinctions, we old pioneers almost regret the advanced position into which we have been crowded. In those days we boys all wore buckskin breeches; you couldn't wear them out, and if there was any special reason for them to look clean, Mother would send us down to the river bank, where we had a kind of an "otter slide" in the sand, and we would sit down and slide, and then lie down and slide, until they were clean "fore and aft."
    The medium of conversation between the Indians and settlers was the Chinook jargon. Many of the words grew into common use among the pioneers, such as: "cuatin," for horse; "cultus," for worthless; "hiac," for hurry; "waw-waw," for talk; "illahee," for country; "cloochman," for woman; "tillicum," for friend, and many other words which almost eliminated the use of the English among the people of the country places. A small dictionary of the language was published in the early '50s by a man named S. J. McCormick, who lived in Portland. It became a household book in many families.
    The men and women who dared the struggles and dangers of pioneer days in Oregon, were themselves mostly the descendants of those brave spirits who followed Daniel Boone and his adventurous fellows into the wilds of the Mississippi Valley states. Only a few, if any, of them had more than a common school education, and a large majority had much less. Yet there were some among those bold Argonauts whose mental equipment enabled them to shine on the "porches of learning," and hold successful dispute with the ablest men of the nation. I will mention a few of the mental giants of early Oregon, viz.: General Joseph Lane, J. W. Nesmith, Jesse Applegate, "Lish" Applegate, Joaquin Miller, Abigail Scott Duniway, Matthew P. Deady, Harvey W. Scott and George H. Williams.
    It seems almost invidious not to mention other names in this enumeration; but time forbids. I would like to characterize each of these prominent pioneers, and show why they were in the front at a time in the history of Oregon when men were needed who had empires in their brains, and who had been skilled by freedom and great events to lay the foundations of a new commonwealth.
    In the brief time allotted to me on this occasion it is not possible for me to give an account of the many stirring events connected with the Indian wars of Oregon. I have some remembrance of the Rogue River War of 1855. I particularly remember one bright day in October of that year, that myself and an older brother had been out in the hills hunting cattle during the day. Late in the afternoon we returned to father's cabin. We saw a white cayuse pony standing before the door, his body covered with blood, and with head down seemed to have been ready to drop. We went into the house, and saw a large man extended on the puncheon floor, with his clothing partly removed. Father was on one side of him, and Mother upon the other, bandaging up his numerous wounds. The only surgical instruments which father had were the butcher knife, with which we had cut meat while crossing the plains, and a pair of scissors. Mother was tearing up some of our old hickory shirts in order to furnish bandages. The man's name was William Russell. He is now in the Soldiers' Home at Roseburg, Oregon, and on the 10th of this month he wrote me a letter expressing a wish to be present on this occasion. He was shot by the Indians a few miles from my father's house. His comrade, a man by the name of Weaver, escaped injury, while Russell had several bullet holes in his limbs and body.
    I think that it was upon the same day that several men, women and children were massacred by the Rogue River Indians in the vicinity of Grants Pass. A Mr. Harris, his wife, daughter and son, lived in a cabin several miles north of Grants Pass. In the forenoon of October 9, 1855, a small party of Indians appeared at the door of the cabin, and before Mr. Harris suspected treachery he was shot down by one of the party. His wife and daughter dragged his body into the cabin, and seizing the double-barreled gun from the wall, commenced firing at the Indians. They retired to a distance of two or three hundred yards, and indulged in the drinking of liquor which they had procured at the home of Mrs. Wagoner, whom they had killed earlier in the day. Mrs. Harris' son, David, and a hired man were not in the house at the time of the attack. The hired man was killed out in the field, and the fate of the 10-year-old David has never been definitely ascertained, though the Indians said after the war that they made him a captive and that he died in a few days after the outbreak. Mrs. Harris and her daughter kept up a desultory firing during the afternoon and into the night, and finally slipped out through the back door and up into the brushy hills to the rear of the house, where they were found by a party of miners who had come from Jacksonville the next day to assist the settlers in their defense against the Indians. Mrs. Harris lived to an old age in Jackson County, and her great-granddaughter, Miss Agnes Love, is a music teacher now in this city.
    There were some men who took part in the Indian wars of Oregon who afterwards became prominent in the history of the nation, viz.: General J. B. Hood, General Phil Kearny, General Wood, General A. J. Smith, General George Crook, General Joseph Hooker, General Phil Sheridan and General J. C. Fremont.
    General A. J. Smith was known as Captain Smith. He commanded some United States troops during the trouble in 1855. I remember at one time that "Old John" and his band of Indians had surrounded Smith and his regulars near what is known as the "Big Meadows" on Rogue River. Smith and his men had dug a trench in order to protect themselves from the shots fired from the hills on either bank of the river. They were held in this trench for a great many hours, and the Indians were so numerous that they were afraid to venture out. Captain Mike Bushey, a volunteer captain, with fifteen or twenty rough-visaged mountain men under his command, learning the plight of Smith and his men, went to his assistance. When the Indians saw Bushey and his men approaching, they hastily fled. That night in camp, Captain Smith said to Captain Bushey: "How do you think, Captain, can we engage those Indians in battle?" There was no great love between the regular troops and the volunteers, so Bushey replied to Smith by saying: "Well, you let my volunteers change uniforms with your soldiers, and we'll go poking along down the river, and the Indians will think we are regular troops and they will come out and give us battle, and we will give them hell." [Colvig seems to be confabulating accounts of the Battle of Big Bend and an engagement at the Meadows. Bushey is not known to have been at Big Bend.]
    At the close of the war, in the spring of 1856, after the treaty was concluded, Captain Smith, with some sixty regular troops under his command, escorted the Indians out of the valley and to the Siletz Reservation. In passing through the Grave Creek Hills, a man named [Timoleon] Love, whose brother had been killed by the Indians, fired from the hillside and killed one of the leading Indians. He was promptly arrested and brought to Canyonville as a prisoner. I remember seeing him, sitting in a tent with his hands tied and two regular soldiers in guard over him. Some of the citizens thought of raising a posse and by force take him away from Captain Smith, but better counsels prevailed. A night or two afterwards, while encamped at Roseburg, a man by the name of Major Cranmore, and one or two friends, came to the camp and asked permission to talk with Love, which Captain Smith granted. They left Love two quarts of whiskey in his tent. That night, Love, being a generous sort of a fellow, gave the sentry who guarded over him one quart of it, which soon rendered the soldier hors de combat. Love then took the sentry's knife and cut the ropes from his arms and legs, and, helping himself to the sentry's gun, walked out of camp. I knew him in after years. The government of the United States never had a chance to try him.
    The Indian wars of Southern Oregon were stubborn contests; for wherever civilization in its advance meets with barbarian force, an irrepressible conflict ensues, and civilization triumphs. The tribes that took part in the several wars of Southern Oregon were the Rogue Rivers, the Modocs, Shastas and Umpquas. The only honest acquisition of the Rogue River Indians was their name. On account of their treacherous and thieving habits, the early French trappers called the river flowing through their country the "Riviere aux Coquins" (River of Rogues). An early legislature in Oregon tried to change the name to Gold River, but it didn't "take."
    Before I conclude, let me say that no women of any war in which the American people have ever been engaged exhibited more courage than the pioneer mothers of Oregon. When their fathers, brothers, husbands and sons went out to meet their savage foes, these women were not left in well-protected cities, villages and home, but in rude cabins, situated in close proximity to the conflict, and, unlike the chance of civilized war, no mercy could be expected from the enemy. Surrender meant not only death, but torture and heartless cruelty. In every hour of those dark days, these women proved themselves to be fit helpmates to a race of daring men, and worthy of all the honors that are accorded the brave.
    We people of Oregon have reason to be proud of the country in which we live. It is a land of rich endowment, not only in its material sources of wealth, but also in relation to the history of civilization. Its pioneer citizens were not the weaklings of over-populous countries of either Europe or America, but were the brave-hearted, strong-armed sons of toil, from every quarter of the globe, who, with fearless courage and indomitable will, established themselves and their families in the midst of a wilderness whose very distance from civilization rendered their isolation complete. And thus, as the Star of Empire advanced across the North American continent, ever seeking a Western limit, the spirit of progress has followed.
    Shelley, the poet, was prophetic when, in 1817, he wrote concerning the United States as follows:
"There is a people mighty in its youth,
A land beyond the oceans of the West.
Where, tho' with rudest rites, Freedom and Truth
Are worshiped; from a glorious mother's breast,
Who, since high Athens fell, among the rest
Sat like the queen of nations, but in woe
Turns to her chainless child for succor now,
And draws the milk of power in wisdom's fullest flow.
This land is like an eagle whose young gaze
Feeds on the noontide beam, whose golden plume
Floats moveless on the storm, and in the blaze
Of sunrise gleams when earth is wrapt in gloom;
Great people! As the sands shalt those become,
Thy growth is swift as morn, when night must fade.
The multitudinous earth shall sleep beneath thy shade.
Nay I start not at the name--America!"
William M. Colvig, "Annual Address," Transactions of the Forty-First Annual Reunion of the Oregon Pioneer Association, Portland, June 19, 1913, Portland 1916, pages 333-350.  Colvig addressed the Southern Oregon Pioneer Association in September 1878; the Oregon Pioneer Association in 1898.

    "When I was a boy of 17," said Judge W. M. Colvig, an Oregon pioneer of 1851, "they were raising two Oregon regiments to go to the front. Probably the recruiting officers acted in good faith in promising us we would soon be in active service and on the firing line, but the Secretary of War ruled otherwise. He took all the regulars from the West and had the Oregon troops take their places, so we never got any nearer Gettysburg and Cold Harbor than the Cascade Mountains or Crater Lake.
    "Oregon raised a regiment of infantry and a regiment of cavalry. I enlisted at Camp Baker, near Phoenix, in Southern Oregon, in Company C, First Oregon Cavalry. Our captain's name was William Kelly. Frank B. White was first lieutenant, and D. C. Underwood was second lieutenant.
    "On July 11, 1863, our colonel, Charles S. Drew, was ordered to go to the Klamath country and find a location for a government post. That was a central point for the Modoc, Klamath and Piute Indians. We located Fort Klamath. General W. H. Odell surveyed out the mile square for the government headquarters.
    "Supplies were brought in from Jacksonville, about 98 miles distant. The road was extremely bad, so Captain Frank B. Sprague was ordered to take a detail of 20 men and find a lower pass over the mountains and if possible find a more feasible route for a road to Jacksonville.
    "I was company clerk, and I was at headquarters when Captain Sprague returned from his trip and reported. He told of discovering a most wonderful lake--in a crater-like depression in the mountains. He said, 'I believe it is the most wonderful lake in the world.'
    "This was in October. Next Sunday a party of 20 or more of us went to see the lake. Its grandeur and majesty simply rendered us speechless. Colonel Ross was one of our party. Historians have since wrongfully given him the credit for discovering the lake.
    "In writing a report to the government of the result of his exploring trip, Captain Sprague wanted to give some name to the lake. It was discussed by various officers. Captain Sprague wanted to call it Lake Mystic, but finally yielded to the others and named it Lake Majesty. Look in the old government reports and you will see that that was the original name given to Crater Lake. The Indians had known of the lake, and a few white trappers had spoken of it.
    "After three years of serving in the army, I went east. In 1872 I was teaching school at Fremont, Ill., the birthplace of Harvey Scott and of Mrs. Abigail Scott Duniway. They always called me 'Oregon Bill' back in Illinois. Colonel Acquilla Davis, one of my school directors, came to me and said:
    "'Oregon, I want you to come up to my house tonight and take supper with me. We have a relation of mine--a lady from Oregon--I want you to meet. Her name is Abigail Scott Duniway. She is the editor of a paper called The New Northwest, published in Portland. She is going to talk at the church tonight.'
    "I was an enthusiastic worker for Horace Greeley, who was running for President. I took tea at the Davis home, and met Mrs. Duniway. I was asked to serve as chairman of the meeting and introduce Mrs. Duniway. I did so. She had met Grant and Greeley, and how she did go for Horace Greeley. She told of her interview with Greeley, and of asking his position on the woman suffrage question. 'This is what he told me,' said Mrs. Duniway: 'I'll tell you ladies plainly, God made men and women different physically and mentally; I like to see women women, and men men, and I don't want to see a lot of women usurping men's functions.'
    "Mrs. Duniway probably to this day doesn't know why her audience was so much amused while she was pitching into Horace Greeley. There I was working tooth and toenail for Greeley, and acting as chairman of a meeting where my candidate was being vigorously assailed. Mrs. Duniway, however, has lived to see her cause triumphant."

Fred Lockley, "In Earlier Days," Oregon Journal, Portland, August 19, 1913, page 6

    "Every once in a while I run across a graphic account of the fight with Indians at Table Rock, in Southern Oregon," said Judge William M. Colvig of Medford. "All of the accounts, while more or less interesting, have one fatal defect, and that is they are lies. There wasn't any fight at Table Rock.
    "There are not many people now alive who have first-hand knowledge of the fact, though. C. C. Beekman of Jacksonville, myself and one or two others are the only ones I know of who possess personal knowledge of the matter.
    "I came to Oregon 62 years ago. I was born in Ray County, Missouri, on September 2, 1845, not far from the birthplace of Jesse James. We are almost of an age. He was about a year old when I was born. Jesse James came of an excellent family. His stepfather and my father practiced medicine in the same town, and their offices were almost side by side.
    "We started for Oregon on May 5, 1851. We had 2 wagons. The one with our provisions and freight had three yoke of oxen; the wagon in which the family traveled had two yoke. We arrived in Oregon with the light wagon and three oxen. We lost seven of our 10 oxen, and had to abandon the heavy wagon on the plains.
    "There were five children in our family who came across the plains. My brother, Judge Volney Colvig, lives here in Portland. He was formerly county judge of Josephine County. Another brother, Judge George W. Colvig, lives in Grants Pass. My sister, Mrs. A. A. Emery, lives in Ashland. I live in Medford, and my other brother, John Lewis Colvig, was killed by the Indians. He was chief of scouts. There were five in his party when they were attacked by the Indians; four of the party were killed.
    "We arrived in Portland on October 5, 1851.
    "My father was born in Leesburg, Va. His father was born in Paris. When my grandfather came from France he Anglicized our name. It had been Colvigne, so he dropped the 'ne' when he came to Virginia. My mother was born in Hartford, Conn. My father and mother met in Ohio, where my mother was teaching school. Judge M. P. Deady and my father were raised as boys together.
    "Tom Carter, one of Portland's early merchants, and my father came from the same part of Virginia, so when we came to Oregon Tom Carter met us at Cascade Rapids and brought our family down to Portland on the steamer Lot Whitcomb. My father came with the three oxen and the wagon over the mountain trail.
    "Mr. Carter took us to his home. I remember he took all of us children to his store and gave each of us a hat and a pair of shoes.
    "The first school I attended was here in Portland, in the fall of '51. It was taught by a man named Stephen Outhouse.
    "We moved into the house next to Tom Dwyer. He had his newspaper office at his house. My brother and Frank Hall had the job once a week of running the hand press to print the Oregonian. If I remember correctly they ran off 200 or 300 copies each week.
    "In the spring of '52 my father took the gold fever, and with one light wagon and oxen we started for the mines of Southern Oregon. About 25 miles south of Roseburg the oxen played out and the wagon broke down, so he decided to stop there. He bought a man's right to a donation land claim. I think he gave him a rifle for the claim. At any rate Father went ahead and proved up on it. It was near Canyonville. There was an Indian village on one corner of the place, so we children soon learned Chinook.
    "I think it was on the tenth of October, 1855, that my brother and I came in from hunting the cows and saw a white horse covered with blood standing by the front door of our log cabin. We hurried into the house to see what was the matter. We found Father with a big knife working on a man lying on the floor, while Mother was tearing our hickory shirts into bandages. The man was Bill Russell, and he had seven bullet wounds. He told us that the Indians had broken out and killed Weaver, his partner, and a lot of other settlers, between Canyonville and Jacksonville, and around Grants Pass. [Grants Pass didn't exist yet, of course.] Russell stayed all winter with us. Father patched him up, and he got well and is alive yet. He lives at Ashland.
    "My father and J. C. Fullerton, the father of Judge Fullerton of Roseburg, and another settler, combined to hire a teacher. They built a log schoolhouse and employed Sam Strong as teacher. They put him under bonds not to get drunk during the four months of school. He didn't, either, though later he died of delirium tremens. Our next teacher was a mild and inoffensive little Jew, named Isidore Choynski. We boys knocked him out in two months. He was a timid little fellow. He was the father of Fighting Joe Choynski, the prize fighter.
    "Our next teacher was a young easterner, who had come out West to die of consumption, but who had become cured in crossing the plains. His name was Rufus Mallory, later destined to make his mark in Oregon politics. He was succeeded by a young German, Binger Hermann, who also cut a wide swath in politics. Binger Hermann had a wonderfully persuasive way with us, and we were soon his firm friends.
    "A little after that I enlisted in Company C, First Oregon Cavalry, but that is another and a longer story."
Fred Lockley, "In Earlier Days," Oregon Journal, Portland, August 25, 1913, page 6

Medford Mail Tribune, March 21, 1912

Medford Attorney Gets Local Office with Southern Pacific.
    William M. Colvig, attorney for the Southern Pacific at Medford, will become tax and right-of-way agent of the same road January 1, to succeed the late Colonel J. B. Eddy.
    The appointment has been made by E. E. Calvin and W. F. Herrin, vice-presidents of the Southern Pacific, D. W. Campbell, general superintendent in Portland, was advised by wire yesterday.
    Mr. Colvig is a pioneer in Oregon, a veteran of the Civil War and an attorney of wide experience. He is preparing now to come to Portland with his family and take up his new duties.
Morning Oregonian, Portland, December 27, 1913, page 11

    "I am looking for a house," said Judge William M. Colvig, late of Medford, at the Cornelius yesterday.
    Judge Colvig has been appointed right-of-way agent for the Southern Pacific in Oregon, and proposes to remove his family to Portland soon.
    "But I am telling these landlords, when they tell me the advantages of their properties as reasons for charging a high rent, that I intend to rent for a term of years--I never did like to move, anyway, and that I am in other ways a most desirable tenant. I want a place where I can have some grass and a few rosebushes, and I'll take care of these things as though the premises were my own."
    Judge Colvig is an ex-president of the Medford Commercial Club and has been prominent in every movement for the advancement of Medford and Southern Oregon for more years than is embraced in the memory of a majority of the residents of that region.
    One of the first things Judge Colvig did to make Southern Oregon a better country to live in was to serve as a volunteer in the war against the Modoc Indians [sic] in the '60s.
    He was one of the earliest white  men to see Crater Lake, and was one with a party of regular soldiers who took a number of Indians down to the water's edge and pushed them in for the purpose of dispelling the idea of the savages that the devil dwelt in the blue bosom of the lake and rewarded whoever looked upon it with death.
    Mrs. C. L. Reames, wife of the United States District Attorney, is Judge Colvig's daughter.

"Hotel Lobbies Furnish Tales of Varied Tenor," Oregonian, Portland, January 5, 1914, page 5

As a Result of Runaway Judge Colvig Has Lame Arms and Sore Eyes.
    Judge William Colvig, tax and right-of-way agent for the Southern Pacific, came back to Portland yesterday with lame arms and obscured vision and otherwise suffering bodily aches, as a result of a runaway accident in which he participated while in Lane County.
    The horses, according to the judge, ran for a long distance, and he was blinded early in the excitement by the shower of mud precipitated upon him from the flying heels of the animals. No longer able to see, he hung on to the lines and trusted to his good luck, which vindicated itself by switching the team into a bog. They came to a sudden stop and Mr. Colvig was thrown over the dashboard, painfully bruising his arms.
    Finally extricating himself from the bog and wiping enough of the mud out of his eyes to allow him to see, he made his way back to Eugene and let an oculist finish the job of removing from his vision the keepsakes of Lane County good roads which he had collected.
Sunday Oregonian, Portland, March 1, 1914, page 14

    Judge Wm. M. Colvig and his daughters, Mrs. Helen Gale and Mrs. Clarence Reames, are visiting relatives, having come to attend the funeral of Mrs. Birdseye.
    The funeral services of the late Mrs. Clara Fleming Birdseye were held from the old home near Rogue River Thursday afternoon, a large concourse of friends and relatives being in attendance. Interment was made in Rock Point Cemetery.
"Local and Personal," Medford Mail Tribune, April 9, 1915, page 2

Mrs. Clara Fleming Birdseye, Resident of Jackson County
65 Years, Died Monday.

    Mrs. Clara Fleming Birdseye, one of the oldest woman pioneers of southern Oregon, prominently identified with the early history of this section, and one of the most widely known women in the state, died at her home on Birdseye Creek, near Rogue River, shortly after midnight Monday night, aged 80 years. Mrs. Birdseye came to Oregon from West Virginia in 1850 and lived all the intervening 60 years on the donation claim where she and her husband settled. She was a descendant of the Flemings of Virginia, prominent in Colonial life.
    Fort Birdseye stood upon this claim, and in the Indian wars that mark the early history of this valley she took an active part. She was acquainted with all the terrors of frontier life, and watched the Rogue River Valley grow to its present position from a wilderness. She was the best-known woman in southern Oregon.
Jacksonville Post, April 10, 1915, page 1

    Judge Wm. M. Colvig and his daughter, Mrs. Helen Gale, both of Portland, are visiting with friends in the valley and will return to their home Sunday evening. They came to attend the funeral of Mrs. Birdseye.

"Local and Personal," Medford Sun, April 10, 1915, page 6

To the Editor:
    I note in the Mail Tribune of the 11th inst. an editorial setting forth the origin of the name of "Mt. Pitt." You state that in the '70s Capt. Applegate ran a survey for a railroad from the Umpqua Valley over the Trail divide, skirting the base of Mt. McLoughlin and finally to Pitt River, California, and that Mr. Applegate there, to identify his route as the "Pitt River Route," called the mountain "Pitt."
    There is no truth, whatever, in these statements. Fort Klamath was built in the fall of 1863. Tthe company of infantry, of which I was a member, made a road from the Rogue River Valley to Fort Klamath at this time and this road was located between Four-Mile Lake and Mt. McLoughlin. We called the mountain "Pitt" then, and had a reason for it. It had already been christened by someone after an old trapper of that name, who hunted in the mountains of Southern Oregon and Northern California in very early times. Pitt had a partner by the name of Martin, and what is now known as "Sprague River" was, prior to 1863, called "Martin's River." The name was changed in honor of Capt. F. B. Sprague, who at one time lived at Phoenix, Oregon.
    The mountain of which we speak was called "McLoughlin" and sometimes "Pitt" as early as 1865.
Correcting Errors
    While we are correcting errors of pioneer history, permit me to state, for the benefit of the younger generation, that there never was a battle on Table Rock, nor an Indian fight of any kind there. I do not want to appear as an iconoclast, but such mistakes, no matter how romantic, should not be allowed to go down in history as facts. My mother-in-law, Mrs. Clara Birdseye, who died a few weeks ago, was living in Rogue River Valley at the time this battle was supposed to have taken place; she had a remarkable memory for pioneer events and I have heard her discredit this myth many times.
    Further, let me state that the county seat of Josephine County was not named "Grants Pass" because General Grant had ever been there. General Grant took no part in the Indian wars of Southern Oregon--was not there during the entire period--nor was he ever any further south in the state than Portland. He was a young military officer stationed at Ft. Vancouver and saw some service in the Cayuse War.
Grant Never Saw Pass
    E. B. Dimmick, in 1862, lived about a mile east of where the present courthouse in Grants Pass now stands. He cut out a new road, which shortens the stage road about three miles, and this was called "Dimmick's Pass." The stage company made "Dimmick's" a station on the line, and when Mr. Dimmick applied for a post office, the war spirit was rampant. Gen. Grant was rapidly coming to the front, and Mr. Dimmick was a radical Republican, so he asked to have his station named "Grants Pass."
    But no matter what the origin of the name of this stately mountain to which you refer in your editorial may be, the people of Oregon seem to be of one mind on the adoption of "McLoughlin," and it surely seems more fitting to commemorate the memory of Oregon's grandest pioneer, by giving this mountain his name, than to continue or to countenance the name of "Pitt," which means nothing to either the old or the new generation.
Yours truly,
    W. M. COLVIG.
Portland, May 15, 1915.
Medford Mail Tribune, May 17, 1915, page 5

    On Tuesday Ben Sheldon of Medford and Judge William Colvig talked Rogue River Valley and Oregon to a theater full and throughout the day the Rogue River Valley pictures were viewed by many thousands.
"Free Things Draw Biggest at Fair," Albany Daily Democrat, August 18, 1915, page 1

    Judge W. M. Colvig arrived in Medford yesterday and the first of the month will resume his home in this city. Judge Colvig, former attorney in this city, former president of the Commercial Club and one of the best-known pioneers in southern Oregon, left Medford three or four years ago to take the position of tax adjuster for the Southern Pacific. He resigned the position several months ago, the resignation to take effect May 1st.

"Local and Personal,"
Medford Sun, April 14, 1918, page 2

    On Wednesday evening, after I had written my letter for the Medford Mail Tribune, Judge William M. Colvig, his daughter, Mrs. Helen Gale and grandson Windsor Gale, Dr. and Mrs. J. J. Emmens, all of Medford, came in for late supper and after satisfying themselves in that line spent a while visiting our family. That is the first time the judge has honored us in that way for some time. He tells us that he has come to Medford to make his home and expects to be with us more frequently.
A. C. Howlett, "Eagle Point Eaglets," Medford Mail Tribune, May 21, 1918, page 5

The Legend of Crater Lake
    Crater Lake is situated in Klamath County, Oregon, on the summit of the Cascade Range of mountains. It is oval in shape, and about 21 miles in circumference. From the rim down to the water it averages about 2000 feet of almost perpendicular wall. The top of the rim is at an average elevation of about 7500 feet above sea level.
    I was a soldier from April 5, 1863 until April 5, 1866 in Co. C, 1st Regt. Or. Cav. Vols. I was discharged at Ft. Vancouver and immediately took passage to S.F. on the 14th of April 1866. I left S.F. for N.Y. on the steamer Moses Taylor going via Nicaragua. In the fall of 1866, I was helping a man take a load of merchandise from Parkersburg, W. Va. up the Little Kenawha River to a place called "Burning Springs," where oil had been struck. We had the goods on a flatboat, and had to "pole" it along. In the nighttime a heavily laden oil barge came down the river and rammed the outer rail of our boat. In a few minutes it sank, and my loss was all my army records, including a daily diary of my 3 years' service. In this diary I had written several Indian legends which I collected from the Indians themselves, and which I believe had historical value. During the winter of 1865-6 we were stationed at Camp Alvord in S.E. Oregon. I was a clerk in the Commissary Dept.--acting as commissary sergeant and with but little to do. I busied myself in putting in ink the daily occurrences of my service together with a great variety of random thoughts--attempted stories etc. etc. It was this book I lost on the boat. During the spring and summer of 1865 I was with a detachment of my company that had been sent out into the Indian country of Surprise Valley, Cal. and as far east as the Owyhee River in Idaho. No white people lived in all this region then. We returned to Ft. Klamath about Sept. 15th 1865, and about Oct. 15th I went with a small party to Alvord where some of my co. and other soldiers were located and where we stayed all winter. During the summer of 1865 Capt. F. B. Sprague of the 1st Or. Infy. and a detachment of soldiers was detailed to view out and locate a wagon road from Ft. Klamath to the Rogue River country by some better pass over the mountains than the Rancheria Prairie-Mt. McLoughlin route which we had laid out in 1863, and which was then (1865) the only wagon road into the Klamath country. Sprague and his men sometime in July 1865 rediscovered Crater Lake. I say rediscovered, because Col. Jno. E. Ross, an old pioneer of Rogue River Valley, was then at Ft. Klamath, acting as guide and interpreter for the government, and when Sprague reported finding the lake, Ross said that an old mountaineer and trapper named Hillman had stayed overnight at his house in [1853] and told him about finding a wonderful lake on the top of the mountains near the head of Rogue River and he described it to Ross. Yet a knowledge of it was not made known to the public until Sprague's discovery in 1865. Although Hillman was since found to be living in Louisiana, and at the solicitation of a correspondent [I] confirmed Ross' statement--yet I have always doubted the story, and I believe that Sprague and his men were the first white men to see the lake.
    Sometime about Oct. 1st 1865 I visited the lake with 8 or 10 others. Col. Jno. E. Ross was in the party. I think that my brother Volney Colvig and my cousin Frank Woodford, who were members of Co. C, were also of the number.
    On my return to the  Fort, I had a talk with "Lalakes" concerning the Lake. He was the peace chief of the Klamaths, and was about 80 yrs. old at that time. He was a very friendly old fellow. He knew some English, and could talk Chinook. I knew all the Chinook, so we could converse pretty well. I spent many hours with him, and learned from him a good deal of Indian lore, and legendary history of his race. He told me that Jno. C. Fremont and his men, who passed through the Klamath country in 1846, were the first white people he ever saw.
    One day I asked Lalakes why the Indians never went up to the lake. Why were they afraid to look down upon its water? He replied in Chinook and broken English:
    "Oh, you cannot understand." "Yes, I can understand," I replied. We were sitting on a log near the Indian village, which was just across the creek from the fort, and about 25 miles from Crater Lake. We could plainly see the high points of the mountain where the lake was located, and the long ridges that stretched from the summit down to the valley.
    I filled the old man's pipe, when he told me the following legend of Crater Lake. "A long time ago, so long that you cannot count it (skookum tukamonuk cole illahee ahnkuttie)" which means a big hundred--or a thousand years "before the stars fell and before the pages of history began, when the white man was wild and before he had stolen the arts and sciences from the Indians and drove them into the wilderness, a time when the red man lived in rock-built cities, at a time when the gods of earth and sky, the gods of the sea and the mountains came and held converse with the people, it was then that the 'Kequila Tyee' (chief of the lower world) came up from his house in the earth and stood on the summit of the mountain, his immense form towering above the snow-capped peaks till his head mingled with the stars that adorn the throne of 'Tlama,' the 'Saghalie Tyee' (the upper chief, or Supreme God). The Kequila Tyee was very angry (hiyu sullix) because Loha, the daughter of the tribal chief, had refused to receive his advances or listen to his vows of love. Loha was the nation's pride. She was tall and straight as the arrow weed. Her eyes were dark and piercing, and warrior chiefs from many nations of the red men sought her hand. The Kequila Tyee promised her an eternal home in his mountain abode (Kequila Tehouit, or what is now Crater Lake, but was then the portal through which the mighty God of Earth ascended from his kingdom below). He sent one of his princes to the love feast of the tribe to convey to Loha and her people his wishes, his love and his demand. She was promised eternal life and would never know sickness, sorrow or death if she became the queen of the mighty god. (I wonder if this story of the god's making love to earthly maidens is not a survival of the biblical story recorded in Chap. VI Genesis?)
    "But the maiden, under the counsel and advice of the great medicine men of the tribe, hid herself from the sight of the fearful God of the Lower World, who thereupon swore eternal vengeance upon the nation and vowed to destroy it with the 'Curse of Fire.' Then he saw the face of 'Tlama' shining amid the stars that adorn his house above the earth till it rested upon Shasta's summit. Then commenced a conflict between these gods in which all the gods of earth and sky took part. The mountains crumbled beneath the tread of the giants who from their summits hurled the Curse of Fire over all the land. Fire spewed from the mouth of Kequila Tyee, and like an ocean of flame devoured the forests and swept on till it reached the homes of the people. Red-hot rocks, as large as the hills, went hurling athwart the midnight skies. Burning ashes fell like rain. The people rushed into the waters of the lake in order to escape the fiery curse. Mothers stood holding their babes in their arms and praying that the mighty war of the gods might end. 'By our offenses,' said the great medicine men, 'have we invoked the Curse of Fire. Who among us will offer himself a living sacrifice to appease the wrath of the angry god?' The young braves halt; therefore, we old men who have but a few more suns claim the privilege of hurling the burning torch into the bosom of the Down Chief and to follow it in expiation of the sins of the people. And Tlama said, 'Verily, it is true, you people have not listened to my voice, and now the God of Punishment has appeared unto you, and the earth is becoming a desolate waste from his ravages.' Then, leaping from the water, two of the oldest and most revered Priests of the Nation with lighted torches sought the long ridge which runs from the east up to the Llowa (spirit) Rock which overlooks the door to the lower world, and their torches, limned against the troubled midnight skies, were watched by the wondering eyes of the hosts who saw them ascending even to the top of Llowa Rock, and standing thus they hurled their torches and their bodies into the furnace of fire below, and the great 'Saghalie Tyee' (Tlama) saw that it was good. The mountains were riven and the earth trembled upon its foundations. The God of Punishment was driven into his house below, the mountains fell upon him, and no more his voice frightened the people, and through all the ages from father to son came down the warning, 'Look not upon the place, for it means death, and everlasting misery of the spirit.'
    "And there came the God of Storms, and for ages the rain fell in torrents and filled the mighty house of the God of the Lower World, and the curse of fire was quenched and peace and quietness reigned over all the land, and never again did Kequila Tyee visit the earth."
    I had the same legend from other old men of the tribe, but told with some variations, yet essentially the same story.
William M. Colvig, Reminiscences and Memoirs, manuscript notebook begun September 2, 1921

Mrs. Reames Well Known in City, Where Family Resides.
    MEDFORD, Or., July 15.--(Special.)--The death of Mrs. Clarence L. Reames came as a distinct shock to scores of friends in this city, where she had lived for many years and was well known. She was a daughter of Judge William M. Colvig, and a sister of Mrs. William Warner, Medford's postmaster, and Mrs. Helen Gale. A brother, Vance Colvig, resides in San Francisco, Cal., and another brother, Don Colvig of Klamath Falls, was expected to arrive here tonight.
    Mr. and Mrs. Reames lived in this city for years, moving to Portland, and thence to Seattle, when Mr. Reames became special assistant United States attorney general.
    The body was expected to arrive tomorrow, when funeral arrangements will be announced.
Oregonian, Portland, July 16, 1921, page 7


Colvig 1912-4-25Sun     An Oregon pioneer of distinguished lineage tells Mr. Lockley about his ancestry and about his coming to Oregon in 1851, and about a trip to Crater Lake at a time when few white men had seen that world's wonder. The narrative of this pioneer will be concluded in this space tomorrow.
     "I was born in Ray County, Missouri, September 2, 1845," said Judge William M. Colvig, when I visited him recently at his home in Medford. "My father, William Lyngae Colvig, was born at Leesburg, Va., September 19, 1814. My mother, whose maiden name was Helen Woodford, was born at Hartford, Conn. My father's father, Jacob Lyngae Colvigne, was born in Paris. His father, Jean Baptiste Colvigne, married Zelesta Lyngae, the daughter of a Greek sea captain. She was born in Athens. My grandfather, Jacob L. Colvigne, served as a soldier under Bonaparte. They were sent to the island of San Domingo to quell a slave insurrection. In those days Britannia ruled the waves and, not wanting to be captured by the English, Jerome Bonaparte, with my grandfather and other French soldiers, came to America.
*  *  *  
     "Jerome Bonaparte was the youngest brother of Napoleon. He was born in 1784. On December 27, 1803, he married Elizabeth Patterson, one of the belles of Baltimore. His marriage was more or less of a tragedy, as Napoleon refused to recognize it. He made his brother, Jerome, king of Westphalia. His life was a stormy one. Napoleon refused to recognize his marriage to Elizabeth Patterson and compelled him to marry Catherine, daughter of King Frederick I of Wurttemburg. With the fall of Napoleon, he went to Switzerland. Napoleon's return from Elba resulted in Jerome's being made a peer. With Napoleon's defeat at Waterloo, he went to Switzerland and later to Florence, where he lived in exile for the next 30 years. His petition to return to France, in 1847, was denied by the chamber of peers. However, he was later allowed to return to his native country, where he died in 1860. There was born to Jerome Bonaparte and Elizabeth Patterson a son, who was named Jerome Napoleon. He was born in 1805 and died in 1870. One of his sons, Charles Joseph Bonaparte, became a well known and successful lawyer of Baltimore and was a member of Roosevelt's cabinet.
*  *  *
     "My grandfather, Jacob Lyngae Colvigne, settled at Leesburg, Va., where he married Winifred Hoffman. He became an American citizen. In making out his naturalization papers the clerk by accident wrote his name Colvig instead of Colvigne, so our family name became Colvig instead of Colvigne. My father, William Lyngae Colvig, married Helen Mar Woodford, whose people came to America from Banbury, England, in 1740. In looking over my mother's family tree I found the following relatives served in the Revolutionary War: Abel, Amos, Enoch, Isaac, Jonah, Joseph, Judah, Noah, Samuel, Selah and Zebulon Woodruff. You see my mother's mother was a Woodruff. She married a Woodford.
     "My father and mother met in Ohio, where they were married in 1836. From Ohio they moved to Richmond, Mo. That was in 1844. I was born there the following year. Jesse James was also born there, and was about a year old when I was born. His people were very fine people. Bad companionship when he was a boy led Jesse James astray.
*  *  *
     "There were 10 of us children. Mother felt she ought to have enough to make it worthwhile, so she took three of her brother's children. Their mother died when they were crossing the plains, so Mother reared these children and they were the same as our brothers and sisters. This made 11 boys and two girls in the family. Of these 13 children three are still alive. My brother Volney lives at Ashland, my brother George at Grants Pass, and I live here in Medford. We left Parkville, Mo., May 5, 1851. We had two wagons, our provision wagon and three yoke of oxen and the family wagon and two yoke. We reached The Dalles October 5. We left our heavy wagon at Fort Hall, on account of losing some of our cattle. Mother and the children came down the Columbia in canoes with Indian rowers. At the foot of the Cascade Rapids they transferred to the steamer Lot Whitcomb. We were met in Portland by Tom Carter, who took us to his home, which at that time was one of the best in Portland. His daughter Nancy married Lafayette Grover, later Governor Grover of Oregon. She now lives in Portland. In the winter of 1851 I went to school in Portland to John Outhouse. We had left Father at The Dalles. He was going to bring the cattle down the trail. For five weeks we thought he was dead, as we heard nothing of him. He had been caught in a heavy snowstorm in the Cascades, and all but three of our oxen starved to death.
*  *  *
     "A man who had a donation land claim in East Portland said to Father, 'I'll give you my claim for your two oxen, your light wagon and  your Kentucky rifle.'  Father said, `I haven't come from across the continent to settle in the dense forest.'  So he turned the offer down. Father put in that winter working in a sawmill. The next spring we struck out for California. Our team played out at Canyonville, so father took up a claim where the team lay down on him. This was in the summer of 1851. Another man had squatted on the claim, but was willing to relinquish his rights for $50; so Father paid him $50 for his 640-acre claim.
*  *  *
     "I look back upon my boyhood as a very happy time, for in those days the whole country was full of deer, elk and smaller game, while the streams were full of trout and salmon. I went to school to Rufus Mallory in 1862. Later I went to school to I. N. Choynski. This teacher was a rather timid man. He was no fighter. The larger boys in school threw him out of the window and kicked him out of the school yard, so our school quit before the term was half over. His son, Joe, was of a very different type, for Joe Choynski became a famous prize fighter.
*  *  *
     "I enlisted on April 5, 1863, in Company C, First Oregon volunteer cavalry. Company C was recruited at Jacksonville. Colonel C. S. Drew was in command of the regiment. We went to Klamath Lake where in the summer of 1863 we built Fort Klamath. In the summer of 1864 we rode across country to Fort Boise, returning that fall. I spent part of the summer of 1865 at Fort Douglas, in Utah, on detached service. When we came back to Fort Klamath, in the fall of 1865, Captain F. B. Sprague, who had been looking for a better route across the Cascades, told us he had seen a wonderful lake. One of his men while hunting had glimpsed Crater Lake. Dad Ross, our guide, a most excellent guide but a very illiterate man, said, 'I hearn tell of that there lake way back in 1852, from Hillman, but I ain't never seen it.'  The following Sunday, which was early in October, about 25 of us, on horseback, went to Anna Creek canyon and reached the rim of the lake at about where Crater Lodge now is. Colonel John E. Ross was with us. He said, 'Hillman stayed at my house and told me about this lake, but I didn't believe it.'  Hillman died a year or two ago in Louisiana. We named the lake Lake Majesty, though some of the men wanted to call it Mystic Lake. However, later it was named Crater Lake."   Fred Lockley in the Portland Journal.
Medford Mail Tribune, July 27, 1922, page 4

     Judge Colvig's story is here concluded. A feature of his account of his career as writer of local histories in eastern states and how he became such in the first place. His later career, after his return to Oregon, is traced in detail.
     Judge William Colvig of Medford came to Oregon by ox team in 1851. "After putting in three years in the army," said Judge Colvig, "I was discharged at Vancouver in 1866. I had saved over $700 and so I decided to see something of the world. I went to San Francisco, where I took passage aboard the steamer Moses Taylor for Nicaragua. From there I went to New York City. When I counted my money a few days out from New York City I found I had $480. Just before arriving in New York City I looked again and found my $480 had been stolen. My total capital was $1.75, so my plans for taking in the sights of the metropolis went glimmering. As a matter of fact, I didn't have enough money to get a room at a hotel.
*  *  *
     "Taking my revolver and some of my other possessions, I pawned them and raised $40. I went to Wheeling, W. Va., in search of work. Not succeeding in getting a job, I went to Ohio, where I struck a job drilling an oil well 14 miles from Zanesville. We struck lubricating oil at a depth of 300 feet. From there I went to Burning Springs, W. Va., and helped drill the Louis Wetzel well. We struck oil at a depth of 1750 feet. That became one of the famous producers of that district. I landed a job as an expressman, later worked on a steamboat, and in the winter of 1867 I got a job on General Joe Shelby's plantation in Missouri. He had 1200 acres in hemp. Most of his workers were negroes. After a while he made me foreman.
*  *  *
     "I saved my wages there until I had a few hundred dollars. I decided I would get an education. At Fremont, Tazewell County, Ill., I found a little college called the Fremont Collegiate Institute. I went to school there, and when my money ran out, Colonel Aquilla Davis, a relative of Harvey Scott, gave me a job as school teacher. Everyone in that county called me 'Oregon Bill,' because I talked so much about the beauties of Oregon. When I was there Abigail Scott Duniway came there and gave a lecture in the Presbyterian church. Because we were both from Oregon, I was asked to introduce her. I taught there until 1872. That was the year Greeley was running for president, and politics was very warm.
*  *  *
     "In the spring of 1873, after my school was out, I went to Bloomington, Ill., to land a job for the summer. The job failed to materialize. It is strange that a little incident will often change one's whole life. I have always been very fond of Shakespeare. As I passed down the street after supper I saw a sign in front of the theatre to the effect that Edwin Booth and his wife, Agnes Booth, were to appear that night in 'Hamlet.' I took in the play that night and greatly enjoyed it. The next day I went to Peoria, in search of work. That night as I walked down the street I saw that the Booths were appearing there in 'Hamlet,' so I decided to invest another quarter and take it in. The man at the ticket office told me all of the seats were gone and all he had left was a box at $10. Naturally I did not feel like investing $10. As I stood there a prosperous-looking man stepped up to the window and asked for a ticket. He was also told that all seats were gone and that there was nothing left but a box for $10. Pulling out a roll of bills, he peeled off a $10 bill and said: 'All right; I'll take a box.' Turning to me, he said, 'I'll have lots of room in my box; don't you want to occupy a seat with me?' I accepted with alacrity. He said: 'My name is Captain A. T. Andreas. I am president of the Lakeside Publishing Company of Chicago. What is your name and where do you hail from?' I told him my name was William Colvig, that I was a teacher, and was looking for a job during the summer. He said: 'How would you like to write up a history of the old pioneers? I am getting out a state history,' I told him that was the very job I would like. He hired me on the spot at a very satisfactory salary.
*  *  *
      "At Mansfield, Ohio, I ran across Judge Brinkerhoff, who had a wonderful memory of the early days and who had files of the early papers. I camped right at his place and secured the data I needed. I have always written a good hand, so I wrote out the early history of the county and sent it in to Captain Andreas. He was delighted with my work and persuaded me not to go back to teaching. He made me advertising manager for the state histories he was getting out of the states of Iowa and Minnesota. I worked with him for the next year or two, with profit to myself as well as to him. He sent me to San Francisco as manager of the Pacific Publishing Company. After staying in San Francisco a while I came north to Jackson County to visit my people. That was in the fall of 1875. In the spring of 1876 I visited all the old pioneers of Santa Clara and Sonoma counties in California, and got out county histories.
*  *  *
     "That summer I came back to Oregon and campaigned for Tilden. All of my people are Republicans. I was the only Democrat in our family. In 1878 I ran for the Oregon legislature on the Democratic ticket. There were two wings of the democracy that year, the Pintos and the Bourbons. I was defeated by nine votes. On June 8, 1879 I married Addie Birdseye. My wife was born in the stockade at Fort Birdseye, 21 miles west of Medford, in 1856. I was elected school superintendent of Jackson County and served two terms. I was then elected district attorney and served three terms. My district embraced Lake, Klamath, Jackson and Josephine counties. When I was elected district attorney I knew very little about the law. At that time it was not necessary to be a lawyer to be elected to the office. While serving as district attorney I studied law and was admitted to the bar. Some time later I was the author of a bill which provided that unless one had been admitted to the bar he could not be elected district attorney or judge. After having served three terms as district attorney I practiced law at Jacksonville. Clarence Reames, who married my daughter, was my partner in the law business. Some years ago W. D. Fenton, the Southern Pacific attorney at Portland, offered me a position of right of way agent for the Southern Pacific. I stayed with them five years.
     "I have seven children. My daughter, Helen May Gale, keeps house for me. My daughter, Mary, married William J. Warner, who is postmaster at Medford. My son Donald Lyngae is a lumber operator at Weed, Cal. Another son, Vance DeBar, is a newspaper illustrator. He signs his work by the nickname we have always called him, 'Pinto.' He syndicated his work and it is published in a number of newspapers." Portland Journal, Fred Lockley.
Medford Mail Tribune, August 1, 1922   From the Oregon Journal of July 26, 1922, page 10.

Dear Star--
    Was so glad to get your letter and I'll try to answer it at the office this afternoon--
    As you know Uncle Wes died Sun. so I went down to the farm early Mon. A.M. & stayed till after the funeral. I felt some of us ought to be with Aunt Effie. As usual Dad "played sick" so he wouldn't have to go. I am a poor consoler and about the worst person anyone could have around them at a time like that, but as usual & always Effie thought of everybody but herself & made it easy. I surely did spend an awful night in that old tumble down farm house. I slept in one of the close, little rooms up on the "men's side"--It was so hot, and the rats ran over the bed & around the room and two bats flew against the ceiling half the night--the customary fleas were in attendance too, & the bed sagged from both sides as well as from top to bottom--It was like paying a freak election bet or trying to spend a night in a haunted house. The old place is about ready to tumble down. As soon as the news of Wes' death spread over the countryside the neighbors began to come. Some in Fords, some in buggies, some on horseback & some afoot. They didn't just drop in for a minute but came & spent the day. Old ladies, women with their husbands & kids, all bound on doing their duty of "sitting with Effie." They went over the details of every death that had occurred in the community for the last ten years--told of each deceased's suffering, last words & last wishes. It was very cheerful.
    Poor Effie. Of course she felt very badly, but I don't believe she realized, till Wes was dead, how tied down she has been all these years, & I think she is enjoying her liberty, unconsciously; for instance, she immediately bought a lot of things to eat that Wes never allowed in the house, some dress shoes for Glen, the first he ever had because Wes said it was all nonsense to get dress shoes for him. It is pathetic to see how proud Glen is of the shoes. Effie & Glen & David are visiting us for a few days while Dad helps her get things straightened out legally; last night I spoke about some silk underwear she had on & some silk stockings & she said they had been given to her a long time ago but "Wes didn't like for her to wear them--said they looked like fast women's finery." But she said she just loved the feel of them. I think she was enjoying her visit & I'm sure Dave is. He has never been in town before & the toilet simply fascinates him--he keeps the faucets running if we don't watch him constantly & the lawn mower is a joy to him--a piece of ice gives him delight beyond words.
    Of course I have to work at the office all day & don't have time to do much for Effie while she's here, but I did take her to a show last night. She said it was the first movie she'd been to in over a year. My worst worry is to give them all enough to eat. Dave ate a big lunch today & as soon as he was thro he spied 8 cold pancakes on the kitchen table & ate them, too.
    Clarence was here for two weeks & left Thurs. night, taking Rowen with him. The Hylands at Seattle wanted her to spend a few weeks with them out at their summer home on the Sound. So she will have a fine time. I miss her like everything as she is so much help to me this summer. But I'm glad she is going to have such a good vacation--yes! We've had some doings here in Medford this summer.
    What with the Ku Klux trying to run the primary election, the school election, the recall--not to mention the governorship recount and the grand jury investigation we have torn the town wide open--feeling is very bitter on both sides & friendships of years standing are broken up. The recall was the worst fight of all. Dad got a great kick out of it. He made speeches all over the county at mass meetings & everyone is still talking about what wonderful speeches they were. For one thing, he said, in attacking the churches, that he never went to church anymore because he is a religious man. He sure did go after the preachers.
    He is now working on Judge Kelly's election, & also is trying--along with other leading Republicans--to get Allie Hanley to run Independent for State Representative--as Cowgill is a Kluxer--& the anti-Koo-Koos don't want him. Wouldn't Allie make a peach of a Representative. I'm sure for her, executive, economical, practical, honest & capable. Just what we need since Ben Sheldon stepped out. I had to appear before the grand jury--twice. I guess my testimony was important. This has surely been a long hot summer. 108-110°. Some days we got to where we thot 102° cool, but today is like a fall day--had a little shower last night & it is still cloudy today. I've stood the heat pretty good, for the first time in my life, this year, thanks to chiropractics. Got all my house cleaning done, put up a lot of fruit & stayed on the job at the office thro it all, & feel fine.
    Don said he might be over before long. I do wish he'd be here Sept. 2nd. I'm going to have a surprise stag dinner for Dad, as that is his birthday. Tell him to let me know if I can count on his being here--but not to say anything to Dad about it, as I want the dinner to be a complete surprise. Dad would rather have Don here than anyone else, & so would I. Well, I have been interrupted several times & guess I'd better close. Do write again. I don't know when I'll ever get down there. At least I'll wait till the hot weather is over. I'd like to run down in Oct. & maybe I will. Clarence wanted me to go with him while he was here, but it was hot & I couldn't get away.
    C. looks fine, doesn't drink anything at all, & seemed in good spirits.
    With love to you & Don & all the kiddies--as ever
Had to write this [on] my lap; hope you can read it.

Monday--Didn't get this off so will add a postscript to make you jealous. Took Effie out to spend yesterday afternoon at Allie Hanley's & when we went out to get in the car to go home this is what I found--½ bushel of new potatoes--3 doz. ears of sweet corn, a bunch of carrots, red beets, 1 gal. of new milk, big sack of walnuts--a watermelon and big bouquet of flowers. I'll vote for Aunt Allie, all right.
    Effie seems to be enjoying her visit immensely, and this was the first time she had been away from home on a visit since she was married--and I was thinking I was abused because I didn't get any vacation this summer! I hope she doesn't get spoiled because she is worth a whole bookful of sermons the way she is.
From Helen Colvig to Mrs. Don L. Colvig, Weed, California. Postmarked August 15, 1922. Tim Colvig collection.

    Wm. M. Colvig leaves today for Eastern Oregon via Portland, Bend, Warner's Valley and Lakeview. At the latter place he will testify as a witness for the state in a swampland case involving several thousand acres of land which is claimed was swamp land at the time of the federal grant to the state of Oregon in 1862. The character of much of this land has undergone great changes since the grant was made. What was then swamp has in many instances become dry and is now claimed by squatters. As the grant was in presenti, as of that date, it is necessary for the state to show its condition at that time.
    Mr. Colvig is one of a few men now living who traveled over it in early days. He was in the Col. Drew expedition in 1864 and luckily kept a diary of each day's events during the summer of 1864, in which he recorded the topographical features of the country over which they traveled, and gave an account of each camp, the water, the grass, the soil, etc.
    This diary he still has, and to refresh his memory of the conditions then existing, the government is sending him over the route he traveled fifty-eight years ago. The Drew expedition spent twelve days in Warner's Valley that summer. For a distance of over three hundred miles eastwardly from Fort Klamath there was not a white settler.
Medford Mail Tribune, November 7, 1922, page 5

Hollywood, Cal.
    1342 Myra Ave.
        Apr. 1st 1923
Dear Don & Family,
    I am nurse to the 4 Pintos tonight. Vance & wife have gone down to Venice to attend a try-out of a comedy that his company has just finished (ink all gone). The film is entitled "The 3rd Strike." It has to do with a baseball game. I have witnessed the making of some of the parts, and it is very funny. Vance named it, and is the author of the "gags" & the explanatory notes. It is the custom to run a new play before an unsuspecting audience--and see what kind of a reception the public will give. The company will have 8 to 10 people scattered through the audience to observe--and if 60% of the people laugh, the owners will pronounce it O.K. and release it to distributors over the U.S.--but if it falls below, it will be worked over. Vance is one of the critics tonight. I wanted Margaret to go, as she has every hour taken up with the babies, and seldom or never gets out. So I screwed up courage to propose caring for the whole outfit tonight, including Bourke--the latest Sinn-Feiner that has added hilarity to his house. It takes 50 minutes to go to Venice. They left @ 7 & it is now 8--and "all is well"--not a squawk from any of them--and they are, without doubt, the noisiest bunch of kids I ever knew. They will fight at the "drop of a hat" and drop it themselves--but they are very bright and interesting.
    I have been here just 1 week. I stayed 3 days at Byron Springs for "rheumatiz"--but without effect. I am no better than when under the sunny skies of R.R.Vy.
    We have a fire in the fireplace nearly every morning and evening since I came. Last night it rained enough to lay the dust.
    Everybody in this part of the city is connected in some manner with production companies (moving pictures). These people do not spare expense. Vance's company has been at a cost of $2000 per day for 10 days in getting out the 3rd Strike.
    Some of the dogs earn $10 per day--educated ones, & with their master included--but the money comes rolling back in increased volume.
    A company near here are filming the story of Myles Standish. They are making an exact replica of the Mayflower here, in sight of the front door, 20 men working at it--and have been ever since Helen was here. It is nearly finished, at a cost of $100,000. They will not use it after it is filmed. Every detail is perfect, but of course only a shell. Last week the Jack White Co. bought 2 second-hand Ford cars. They filmed a collision--a complete wreck--and the cars were a pile of junk when they finished.
    I am going to Tijuana and San Diego this week--will be here next Sunday. About 15th I will stop off and see you.
    It is now 9 o'clock--and all is well--no sound breaks in on my solitude. Every day in every way &c.
Tim Colvig collection

"The Covered Wagon."
To the Editor:
    I cannot entirely agree with you in regard to the advertising value to Oregon of that great picture entitled "The Covered Wagon," and which is based upon the story of that name written by the late Emerson Hough.
    I saw this picture in the Egyptian Theatre at Hollywood, California, on the night of its first presentation. It probably will not be as well presented in any other theater in the United States.
    In the prologue given, fifty gaudily dressed Indians--prominent men and women of the Arapaho and Sioux tribes--personally appeared upon the stage, and the spokesman gave a short biographical sketch of each of these old warriors, one of whom is a survivor of the Custer Massacre. The spokesman also told us that before this picture was ever presented to the public it was submitted to one hundred of the best critics in New York City.
    As I am one of the argonauts that came to this state in a covered wagon, I am presumptuous enough to believe that I am a better critic of that picture than those to whom it was submitted. I am not thoroughly acquainted with Hough's story, "The Covered Wagon," but I think the scenario writer has taken great liberties with the historical phase of the subject.
    The first picture thrown on the screen shows the usual tumult occasioned by the gathering together of the train at Westport, on the Missouri River: The audience is told that Westport is now Kansas City. I do not know what it was called in 1845, but we lived within six miles of that place continuously from 1847 until May 5, 1851, when we started with ox teams to the Oregon country, and during all that period it was known as Kaw Landing, it being at the mouth of the Kaw River.
    The two hundred wagons are shown in the picture, each of which is covered with a snow-white sheet, and I may observe right here that in the final picture the wagon sheets are as white as they were on the day of departure. I also noted that each of the wagons had a brake to deaden the wheels. None of the wagons of our train of about 50 which started in 1851 were equipped with brakes; mankind had not yet devised such a useful contrivance.
    The scenario writer deals with the emigration of 1845, and in order to bring California prominently into the picture he blends it with the gold rush of 1849, showing a division of the train at some point in Utah, a portion of it going to California and the remainder coming on into the Oregon country, and at this point I want to make the following criticism of the picture: The final scene showing the part of the train which came into Oregon discloses a group of wagons huddled together in a small mountain valley, with snow one foot deep on the ground and the landscape ornamented with rocks and bull pine. I thought to myself, after all the hardships and struggles endured by those bold pioneers, that this particular spot was poor compensation for the toil and danger they had undergone.
    It shows mothers standing in the snow, with babes in their arms, exclaiming, "Oh, my God, will this journey never end!" Just then there appears an old mountaineer, dressed in buckskin, with a Kentucky rifle in his hand, long hair hanging down his back, evidently one who has been in Oregon for some years, and he replies to the wail of these travel-worn people by saying: "Why, you are already in Oregon." Whereupon, the captain of the wagon train holds up his hands, and the emigrants gather about him and return thanks to God for safely bringing them to the end of their long and perilous journey.
    Now, no person ever knew the ground to be covered with snow in the valleys of Oregon as early as the middle of October, the time of this final picture.
    Jesse Wingate, the captain of the train, is evidently intended for one of our old pioneer citizens, Jesse Applegate, and if the picture had ended in the beautiful valley of the Umpqua, where Applegate settled, it would show our eastern people that these brave emigrants had at last arrived, not in the lonely and forsaken spot suggested by the picture, but in one of the fair valleys that border the sundown seas: a land of fertile soil, warmed by a genial sun, and where all nature seems to smile a welcome.
    I believe that this picture will be seen by millions of people who will wonder why anyone would undergo the hardships, struggles and privations that were endured by these pioneers to reach such a miserable God-forsaken-looking place as that shown in the final picture.
    There are some fine pictures shown of the California end of the journey, and its beautiful valleys and rich gold mines are displayed in direct contrast to the miserable ending of the Oregon Trail.
WM. M. COLVIG.               
Medford Mail Tribune, May 4, 1923, page 4

    I met a distinguished-looking man on the street who wore an emblem that suggested a certain conventional relationship. He returned my salutation with a friendly handshake, and we at once became very communicative. He admitted a residence in this valley of only fifty-one years, during which he seems to have prospered, for he has one of the finest residences in the city, and has retired from the active practice of his profession at the age of going on eighty-five. He was born in Missouri, served throughout the war in the Union army and voted the Democratic ticket until the party declared for the free and unlimited coinage of silver. After the war he settled in St. Paul, Minn., and it was like a visit back home to hear him tell of his acquaintanceship with such of the old politicians as Mark H. Dunnell, William Windom, John S. Pillsbury, Cushman K. Davis and the inimitable and unquenchable Ignatius Donnelly.
    In helping to compile a State Gazetteer for Minnesota this man, who admitted that his name was William M. Colvig, says he visited every county seat in the state, when it was necessary to traverse some of the distances on horseback. Old as he is, and nearing the time when he must give an accounting of his earthly stewardship, he boosts for Oregon as against anywhere also on earth. Nineteen above is the lowest recorded temperature here this winter, he says, while California went 2 degrees lower. And he chuckled when he said it.
Ammi L. Bixby, "Daily Drift," Sunday State Journal, Lincoln, Nebraska, December 23, 1923, page 18

Booth the Assassin of Lincoln
    To the Editor: Every few years someone resurrects and gives prominence to the threadbare fiction that Booth, the assassin of Lincoln, was not captured and killed, as recorded in the history of that event.
    During the past week the young people of the high school were told in an address delivered for their edification that Booth escaped and fled to South America. That in later years he returned to the United States, took up his residence in Oklahoma, and under an assumed name raised a family there, and finally committed suicide.
    This story is not as new as the reverend gentleman who delivered the address indicated. About twenty years ago a man named Finis L. Bates wrote a book entitled "The Escape and Suicide of John Wilkes Booth." It stated that Booth lived in Texas for a while, but that he finally committed suicide, and that he had lived there for years under the name of John St. Helen. This book further stated that after his death a tintype of St. Helen was shown to Julius Brutus Booth, a nephew of the assassin, and that he recognized it as a likeness of his notorious uncle. This book was not considered of any historic value. It rather proved that the wish of the author was father to the thought, and that it was but a fiction originating in the fertile but unscientific mind of the author.
    A few years later a Mr. Campbell, thirsting for notoriety, also published a book on the subject, and his Booth also lived in Oklahoma, but did not bear the assumed name of St. Helen, and was not the same person who was discovered by Finis L. Bates.
    I read all the evidence and the details of the trial and execution of the Lincoln conspirators Azderodt, Payne, Herrold, Mrs. Surratt, and Dr. Mudd, and during the time this trial was transpiring, and I have never had any doubt as to the identification of Booth.
    I do not think it advisable to entertain high school students with any such fakes. Many of them will go through life believing that they have heard the truth concerning that tragic event in the history of our country.
    There seems to be a proneness in the minds of some to attempt discovery of historical events that have seemingly become fixed in the pages of authentic history. Louis XVII, son of Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette, was only a titular king of France. He was a child during the period of the revolution in that country, but he was thrown into prison with other members of his unfortunate family, and at the time his parents were executed he was kept a prisoner in the Temple, and history says that he died there in 1795. Yet in 1854 a book was published in this country called "The Lost Prince," and it stated that the Rev. Eleazar Williams, a missionary among the Indians, was really the lost Dauphin of France, who had been secretly brought to America and placed among the Indians, and it is said that he looked the part in every way.
    During the past year there was a published account of the escape of the Russian Princess Olga, daughter of the late czar. This article stated that she is in America under an assumed name, and why may we not expect to learn in a few years that this entire royal family escaped, came to America, and died on an Oklahoma ranch, under the assumed name of Oscar Jones?
Medford, Mar. 3rd.
Medford Mail Tribune, March 3, 1924, page 4

    Judge W. M. Colvig has just returned from a month's visit to his son, "Pinto" Colvig, and family at Hollywood, Calif. He also visited in San Francisco and Los Angeles. The judge says he saw about all there was to see in Hollywood and says one of the best pictures he ever saw is "The Ten Commandments." The judge also says the weather was miserable and he sat by the fire every morning, that grass is dead, water is scarce and being afraid of foot and mouth disease came home to the land of flowers, sunshine and fine weather.
"Local and Personal,"
Medford Mail Tribune, April 14, 1924, page 2

    One of the big surprises of their lives was met with Monday forenoon when John M. Scott of Portland, assistant passenger traffic manager of the Southern Pacific; A. S. Rosenbaum, district passenger and freight agent of the same railroad, and Judge Wm. Colvig of Medford were driving in Rosenbaum's car between Anna Spring camp and the south entrance of Crater national park, en route to Klamath Falls.
    They were discussing the probable effect of a bumblebee sting on a piece of steel plate, paying no attention to a car ahead of them in the distance. Suddenly a burly man with an ugly-looking revolver strapped about his body sprang out from the roadside and, halting them after exhibiting his badge, said: "I am a government officer after four bootleggers in that next car who are desperate Indians from the Klamath Reservation and will shoot as soon as I tackle them."
    "Drive and pass that car," tersely continued the officer who had commandeered Rosenbaum's car. Then he got into the car and repeated the command.
    "Did y-y-you say those men would sh-sh-oot?" inquired Rosie tremulously.
    "Yes, drive on and hurry."
    The Medford railroad man did as commanded and as his car passed that of the bootleggers the officer sprang out and brought the latter car to a halt with his gun, while Rosenbaum sped on for the south entrance as he, Scott and Colvig expected to dodge bullets every second.
    They finally looked around, and the last they saw of the officer and the bootleggers was one of the Indians handing over to the officer a bottle. That is all they know about the case.
    However, when the cars passed Judge Colvig gave the other car a good look and saw that one of the men in it was an Indian he had prosecuted forty years ago for being mixed up in a shooting affray when the Judge was prosecuting attorney of this district, which then comprised Klamath, Lakeview, Jackson and Josephine County.
    He regards the coincidence of Monday as rather remarkable.
Medford Mail Tribune, August 19, 1924, page 8

Judge W. M. Colvig Tells of Coming Across Plains in 1851--
Indians Flee when Cholera Scare Is Raised.
    The stories being handed in to the Mail Tribune by Jackson County pioneers who came to the coast in a covered wagon continue to arouse more local interest than anything that is happening in the outside world, and printed below is one of the most interesting of all, given by Medford's well-known pioneer, Judge William M. Colvig. Many pioneers attended the Rialto at all the free performances which closed yesterday, but "The Covered Wagon" is being shown to the public this afternoon and tonight.
    Judge Colvig, with his brothers Volney Colvig of Ashland and Geo. Colvig of Grants Pass, crossed the plains in 1851.
    "We--Father, Mother and five of us children--left Platte City, Missouri on the 5th day of May, 1851, bound for Oregon. Our train consisted of 27 families and between 40 and 50 covered wagons, all drawn by oxen. We had two, the heavier one loaded with five months' supply of provisions. We reached The Dalles about October 10, with the lighter wagon and five oxen. Here father hired a couple of friendly Indians to take Mother and us children down to the head of the Cascade Rapids in a canoe. We walked to the foot of the rapids, where we were met by an old friend, Thomas Carter. He had come over in 1847, and was owner of half the town site of Portland. At the foot of the Cascades we went on board the steamer Lot Whitcomb and reached the town of Portland in the night time. We were bareheaded, barefooted, ragged, dirty and about all in. Father came through the Cascade Mountains with the wagon, and reached Portland three weeks later. He lost two of the oxen in the mountains. We remained in Portland during that winter, and in the spring of 1852 came to southern Oregon in the old covered wagon with one yoke of oxen."
    Some interesting details of Judge Colvig's journey are given in an address called "The Covered Wagon," which he delivered at a pioneer's meeting in Jacksonville in 1898.
    "No picture in all the memories of the past is more vividly retained by me than that little wagon home. It was there, during the summer, that Mother taught me to read. Our library consisted of the Bible, Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, the Christian Hymn Book, Frost's Pictorial History of the United States, McGuffey's First and Second Readers and Webster's Elementary Spelling Book. At the end of the journey I had become a second grade graduate.
    "All our family treasures were in this wagon home. The old Kentucky rifle rested in a rack fastened to the hickory bows that supported the No. 2 canvas cover. The powder horn and bullet pouch also hung from the same rack. Some useful article was tucked into every available place. On the side of the wagon bed an old-fashioned coffee mill was fastened. We parched and ground our own coffee in those days.
    "Somewhere near the Sweet Water River we encountered a great many buffalo; the plain, as far as the eye could see, was literally black with the moving mass of their numbers. Here we laid over for several days and put in the time jerking buffalo meat. From that time on, for many days, long strings of the dried meat hung from the bows of the wagon, and any plea of hunger from us kids during the day was silenced with a strip of 'jerky.'
    "One day, just as we were moving out of camp, and the train had begun to stretch its length like a huge serpent along the sand dunes of the Platte, a number of Indians, mounted on ponies, suddenly came over the nearby hills and distributed themselves alongside of the moving train. In a few minutes others, on foot and closely blanketed, came near and peeked at us over the sagebrush. Every appearance indicated an attack. Our company was made up with the western breed of men and women--people who had spent their lives on the frontier and were not easily frightened. The front of the caravan halted and soon the wagons were in close order. An old mountaineer and trapper had joined us at St. Joe and was giving his services as hunter and scout for board and keep until we should reach Ft. Bridger. He immediately sized up the situation and devised a plan. He ordered one wagon to pull out to the side and a group of wailing women and children to surround it. One of the leading Indians inquired the cause and was told by the old scout that one of the emigrants was dying of cholera. When this announcement was made, the old chief hastily told it to the other Indians, and in a few minutes there was not one of them in sight. The cholera had ravaged the entire Missouri River country, from St. Louis to Fort Benton, during the preceding summer of 1850, and had exacted a heavy toll of lives from the Sioux, Pawnee, Arapaho and Blackfoot tribes. This clever ruse tabooed our train from all intercourse with Indians until we had crossed the Rocky Mountains. Our reputation spread from tribe to tribe, and we were avoided by them."
    Volney Colvig was 11 years old at the time of the journey, William 7, and George 3. The two elder brothers served during the Civil War in Company C, 1st Oregon Cavalry, G.A.R.
Medford Mail Tribune, September 13, 1924, page 1

    Volney Colvig was stricken with paralysis and died at his home in Ashland on the 17th day of October, 1924.
    Mr. Colvig was born at Athens, Ohio, October 27, 1840, and only lacked a few days of being 84 years of age.
    He came to Oregon with his parents, reaching Portland on the 15th day of October, 1851. His father moved into a small house adjoining the Oregonian office which had been started that fall by T. J. Dryer. Mr. Colvig, at that time a husky boy, and though only 11 years of age, he was the first motive power of that great newspaper, the Portland Oregonian. On Saturdays he would turn the crank of an old Franklin press and assisted a printer by the name of Frank Hill in getting out about 400 copies of the weekly Oregonian, and later in the evening he and Frank Hill would distribute these papers to the subscribers along First and Second streets in that city. Portland then had a population of about 1000.
    A full account of his connection with this great newspaper was published in its columns in January, 1911.
    In 1862 Mr. Colvig enlisted as a soldier at Camp Baker, Oregon (i.e., one-half mile west of Phoenix), to serve three years in Company C, First Regiment, Oregon Cavalry Volunteers. During nearly the entire period of his enlistment he was the commissary sergeant. After his discharge from the army in the fall of '65, he located at Canyonville, Douglas County, Oregon, and became a telegraph operator on the Western Union line at that place, and in partnership with his father, Dr. W. L. Colvig, he carried on a retail drug business in said town.
    He married Miss Florence Veatch, by whom he had seven children, whose names are as follows: Elmer Colvig, now of Josephine County; Mrs. Ida Craddock of Portland, Oregon; Dora Gillette of Ashland, Oregon; Harry Colvig of Los Angeles, California; Frank Colvig, Ashland, Oregon; Anna Sanford, Ashland, Oregon, and John R. Colvig of Ashland. He also has living at the present time ten grandchildren.
    Mr. Colvig was county judge of Josephine County from the years 1886 to 1894, two terms.
    Mr. Colvig was a man who had but few, if any, enemies. His only chance to acquire an education in the early days of Oregon was a year's attendance at Monmouth College, which was about the year 1857.
    Wm. M. Colvig (80) of Medford, Ore., and Geo. W. Colvig, 76, of Grants Pass, are brothers of the deceased.
    The funeral will be held from the family residence, 900 Oregon Street, Ashland, at 2 p.m. Monday.
Medford Mail Tribune, October 18, 1924, page 2

    In the passing of Judge Volney Colvig, who was stricken with paralysis and died at his home at 900 Oak street, Ashland, Friday, Oct. 17, another of Southern Oregon's history makers has gone from the scene of his activities for nearly three quarters of a century. Born at Athens, Ohio, October 27, 1840, he lacked but a few days of being 84 years of age.
    Judge Colvig crossed the plains with his parents in 1851, arriving in Portland in October, five months on the way. The oldest of the four Colvig boys, he sought and found employment in the office of the Oregonian, and worked on the old hand press. He also distributed papers. Portland had about 1,000 people at that time. In 1852, the family came to Southern Oregon, settling near Canyonville. When Lincoln called for volunteers, Judge Colvig enlisted, serving three years as commissary sergeant in Co. C, First Regiment, Oregon Cavalry Volunteers. After the close of the war he became a telegraph operator at Canyonville; later a druggist, in partnership with his father, Dr. W. L. Colvig. He was living in Grants Pass when the Southern Pacific ran its line through the state.
    Deceased saw the first house built in Grants Pass and was county judge of Josephine County from 1886 to 1894, two terms. He married Miss Florence Veatch, and is survived by seven children: Elmer Colvig, Josephine County; Mrs. Ida Craddock, Portland; Mrs. Dora Gillette, Ashland; Harry Colvig, Los Angeles; Frank Colvig, Ashland; Mrs. Anna Sanford, Ashland; John R. Colvig, Medford. William M. Colvig of Medford and George W. Colvig of Grants Pass are brothers of the deceased.
    Judge Colvig was an optimist, believing in his town and in his state. He had many friends and few enemies. Not only was he a pioneer of Southern Oregon, but his ancestors were among the early settlers in the U.S., his grandfather having come over from France with Jerome Bonaparte. He has lived in Ashland many years. The funeral services were held from the family residence, 900 Oak Street, at two o'clock Tuesday, Rev. P. K. Hammond of the Trinity Episcopal church giving the address. Interment will be in the mausoleum.
Jackson County News, October 24, 1924, page 4

Republican Favors Jennings
    To the Editor: I am a Coolidge Republican; I did not vote for Governor Pierce; I believe in party government, but not the kind that is forced upon us under the Oregon system. The nominees for the various offices in this state and county were not chosen by the wisdom of a conversation composed of party representatives. They are "self-starters." Some of them are totally unfit for any public trust. Who selected this county central committee, that is now having a temporary fit, and yelling like mad for party loyalty? Nearly every member is a "self-starter." Some of them were not supported and elected by more than a corporal's guard of voters.
    Party government in county and state affairs in Oregon is an iridescent dream and cannot be worked.
    I am working to bring about the election of the best men in Jackson County without any regard to party labels. For sheriff, I will vote for Ralph Jennings. Why? I have known him all his life. He is honest, efficient, and courteous. He is a native son of the county. When the nation was calling for men to defend its flag, he resigned the position of sheriff and volunteered. He did not have to do so. He was exempt from the draft. He is entitled to step back into his old place. We promised that we would hold their places open for them. Let us make that promise good by electing Ralph Jennings sheriff of Jackson County. Mr. Jennings will, if elected, execute the duties of the office without fear or favor, and will at the same time treat all who have business with him in a courteous and civil manner.
"Communications," Medford Mail Tribune, October 25, 1924, page 4

Judge Colvig Is Queried.
To the Editor:
    The venerable Judge Colvig says in speaking of the Republican ticket that "some of them are totally unfit for any public trust." Name them, Judge. Who are they? Be specific. Call names. If candidates are unfit you should tell us who they are and wherein they fall short of your political standard. You bolted part of the Republican ticket two years ago. Isn't your political attitude towards the ticket about the same now as it was then?
"Communications," Medford Mail Tribune, October 29, 1924, page 4

    Miss Rowen Gale, of this city, a student at the University of Oregon, and daughter of Mrs. Floyd H. Cook, sustained a minor scalp wound Saturday when the horse she was riding became frightened and ran away. The accident occurred in an orchard, and Miss Gale, to escape being hit by limbs of the trees, clung to the horse's neck. She fell to the ground, a hoof striking her in the back of the head, rendering her unconscious, and necessitating the taking of three stitches. A farmer living nearby rendered first aid. Miss Gale was horseback riding with a number of sorority sisters at the time.   
    In a letter received by relatives this morning, Miss Gale declares that her long hair saved her from a more serious injury, as the way it was dressed softened the impact.
    Miss Gale, who is confined to her room suffering from shock, facetiously compares her riding ability to that of the Prince of Wales, whose penchant for falling off horses is world famed.
Medford Mail Tribune, December 1, 1924, page 3

No Battle of Table Rock.
To the Editor:
    History is filled with errors. George Washington, in a letter to John Marshall, in speaking of Weems' Life of Washington, says: "I do not know the source of his statement in relation to the hatchet and cherry tree, for I never had any such experience, etc., etc." [Washington's letter to Marshall seems to be as apocryphal as the cherry tree story.] It is now known that the story of William Tell and the tyrant Gessler is a pure fabrication and that no men of those names ever appeared on the pages of authentic history.
    The battle of Table Rock never took place, either in Captain Jack's time (1872) or during the Rogue River Indian war of 1855, or at any other time, or at all. It is almost a pity to wreck such a thrilling story. I came to Southern Oregon in 1852. The incidents of the war of 1855 are fresh in my mind. I was about 11 years old at the time. In 1876 [sic], a history of Jackson County and its Indian troubles was published. It is a voluminous work. The man who wrote it spent three months' time in Jacksonville gathering up the facts. He was aided by Henry Klippel, Judge Silas Day, C. C. Beekman, Col. John E. Ross and many other participants of the war. Every little fight with Indians is described--but no mention is made of any battle on Table Rock. A copy of his history is in the Medford library. Another pretty little fiction is that Grants Pass took its name from the fact that U. S. Grant camped there while commanding a company of regular soldiers engaged in the Indian war. Absolutely false--Grant was not in the Rogue River war. His autobiography tells his whole history on this coast, and he does not mention the Rogue River country. He was at Vancouver, and also at Humboldt Bay. While at the latter place he sent in his resignation from the army. I understand that in one of the fraternal halls of Medford a picture of U. S. Grant is hung on the walls entitled "U. S. Grant's Hd. Qrs. at Grants Pass, Oregon." I know how it came to be named Grants Pass--and who named it--but I will not go into that at this time.
"Communications," Medford Mail Tribune, January 19, 1925, page 4

    To the Editor:
    It appears in the press dispatches of the 13th inst. that Scribner & Sons have just published "a shorter Bible," from which are eliminated all references which seem to favor or uphold the use of wine. This new translation has been made by Prof. Charles Foster Kent, professor of Biblical literature at Yale, assisted by Frederick Harris of the Y.M.C.A. and Ethel Cutler of the Y.W.C.A.
    In the King James version, it is told that David dealt out "a cake of bread and a good piece of flesh and a flagon of wine," but in this bible of the prohis the word wine is eliminated and "a cake of raisins" substituted, therefore, again, where Isaiah refers to the children of Israel as loving "flagons of wine at their festivals," it is made to read "and loves to eat raisin cakes at their festivals."
    This "shorter Bible," however, does not change the words of the King James version where it says "wine is a mocker--strong drink is turbulent" and in other instances where the sentiment expressed seems to accord with the views of these modern reformers. I have not seen this shorter bible, and I am at a loss to know just how it renders some of the statements of Holy Writ, as for instance Paul's advice to Timothy, "Drink no longer water, but use a little wine for thy stomach's sake" (1st Tim. 23) or "Give strong drink unto him that is ready to perish, and wine unto those that be of heavy hearts--Let him drink and forget his poverty, and remember his misery no more." (Proverbs XXI:6-7). Shall we substitute "raisin cake" in these citations? In the first chapter of Esther it is stated that "the heart of the king was merry with wine." There is nothing wrong in being merry, but I wonder what effect "raisin cake" would have had on old Ahasuerus.
    The IX chapter of Genesis tells us that "Noah planted a vineyard, and he drank of the wine and was drunken." Here I judge there is no need of substituting raisin cake?
    I do not know where these eminent theologians got their authority to revise the Bible, and make it accord with their intemperate views--for it is written, "If any man shall add unto these things, God shall add unto him the plagues which are written in this book    *    *    *    and if any man shall take away from the words of the book, God shall take away his part out of the book of life." (Rev. XXII-18-19).
    The entire chapter, telling of the miracle performed at the marriage feast of Cana--of turning water into wine--is omitted from this Volstead Bible.
    Now raisin cake is all right in its place, and the California boosters will rejoice at having their leading product advertised from the pulpits of the land in so signal a manner, but I submit that only a fanatic can appreciate such a bible.
"Communications," Medford Mail Tribune, March 19, 1925, page 7

    In the following news feature from Goldendale, Wash., the Portland Journal yesterday published the picture of William M. Colvig of Medford, under the head of "Veterans Meet After 59 Years."
    "A separation of 59 years did not dull the memory of James C. Hartley, early-day Oregon pioneer and Indian fighter, for his old friend and comrade, William M. Colvig, Medford, Ore., when the two met recently at a party at the home of Mrs. May Blades, Hillsboro, Ore., in celebration of his 80th birthday anniversary.
    "Dr. H. H. Hartley, Goldendale, and Mrs. Blades, son and daughter, planned a surprise on their father by inviting Colvig to visit with his old comrade of his Indian-fighting days, whom he had not seen for nearly 60 years. When Colvig walked up to the porch of the Blades home he greeted his old comrade with a familiar salutation of 'Hello Jim.'
    "After looking him over with a quick glance, Hartley responded, 'I know you; you are Bill Colvig.'
    "The elder Hartley, who has resided at Maryhill in Klickitat County for about 10 years, came west to the Willamette Valley in 1864, spending the first winter near McMinnville. On January 18, 1865, he enlisted in Company C, First Oregon Cavalry and was in active service in the Indian wars. Colvig was a member of the company when Hartley enlisted. Both were mustered out in the spring of 1866 and had not met since. Colvig is past 80 years. Five members of the original enlistment of 104 men in Company C, First Oregon Cavalry survive."
Medford Mail Tribune, July 27, 1925, page 2

Only 5 Survive Out of Roseburg Company of 104
That Built Klamath Fort

    Judge G. W. Riddle, commandant of the Oregon Soldiers' Home, was stirred to reminiscence today upon reading a Goldendale, Wash. news item of recent date, telling of the meeting there, after a period of nearly 60 years, of James C. Hartley of that city, and William M. Colvig, of Medford, Oregon, two of the surviving members of Company C, 1st Oregon Cavalry. This company was mustered into service in Roseburg during the first year of the Civil War. Though officially designated as a unit of the federal army, its service was confined exclusively to state patrol against possible depredations by Indians, and for that reason its personnel was commonly referred to as "Indian war veterans."
    Out of the company's original roster of 104 men, only five are now living. These are, besides Hartley and Colvig, Judge Riddle, his brother, Abner, residing at Riddle, and A. M. Beatty. now a member of the Soldiers' Home. The company was enrolled in a store building owned by the pioneer mercantile firm of Bradbury and Wade and situated where the Douglas National Bank now stands. Its first captain was Remick A. Cowls, original owner of the John L. Arzner farm near Riddle, and who later became clerk of Douglas County.
    Judge Riddle recalled that while on special recruiting service it was he who procured Colvig's enlistment. "While other companies of the regiment experienced considerable Indian fighting in the northern and eastern parts of the state, Company C did not encounter any hostile red men," said Judge Riddle today. recounting the career of the unit. "We were assigned to the southeastern part of the state, which was inhabited by the Klamath tribe, estimated at about 1000 in number and considered very prosperous, as prosperity was reckoned in those days. There was no outbreak on their part against the whites during the three-year period that the company was in commission, but we did not idle our time away by any means. We built several buildings that comprised the original Fort Klamath, situated a mile and a half from the site of the present habitation that bears that name. Those buildings were constructed of lumber produced by a portable sawmill, brought from Jacksonville, then the chief town and trading center of Southern Oregon. To transport the sawmill, we built 40 miles of road from Rancheria Prairie, in the Big Butte district, to the site of the fort, routing by way of Pelican Bay. At Rancheria Prairie, the road connected with the existing link extending 20 miles to Jacksonville.
    "It took the company two months to build the 40-mile link to the fort," continued Judge Riddle, "but we had plenty of horses and an ample equipment of such road implements as the time afforded. The men also received a modicum of wages from the town of Jacksonville, which, with an eye to business, was not blind to the increased trading possibilities created by a new avenue of travel into the prosperous Klamath region. Not a building is left at this date to mark the old fort, however. I recently visited the site and easily marked the various building spots, but every stick of timber has vanished."
    Judge Riddle dwelt for a little time upon Indian tragedies that occurred subsequent to the time his company was mustered out, but the details of these affairs will be reserved for his own pen at later dates.
Roseburg News-Review, July 30, 1925, page 1

    To the Editor:
    I do not think that we should place a halo around the head of C. P. Talent for killing the man, Lousignont, for the act was unjustifiable, and entirely without authority of law.
    "Stop! Or I will kill you!" he called to the fleeing stranger. He did not know the man. He did not know the man was a criminal. The man was not resisting arrest. Talent had no warrant to arrest him and did not know that a crime had been committed by the man in front, at the time he took his life.
    Lousignont was a criminal, and could have been punished by a short term of imprisonment, but Talent constituted himself judge, jury, and law and condemned the man to suffer death at once. The Ku Klux Klan mobbed and punished alleged law-breakers without authority, but they concealed their identity behind masks, and the individuals of that detestable organization were fully protected, but since the breaking up of that outfit, there are a few of its one-time members in our midst, who yet uphold the assumption of zealous officers in righting wrongs unlawfully.
"Communications," Medford Mail Tribune, September 24, 1925, page 4

Judge Colvig Spends $400
A Bit of Pioneer History
    Changing the name of [the] Josephine County seat from Napoleon to Kerbyville by the legislative session of 1884 cost William Colvig $400 in litigation. He had been elected district attorney to succeed Thomas Benton Kent, defeating Kent's law partner at the polls. It was the law and custom in those days for the secretary of state to mail out certificates of election to newly elected officials, these certificates to be signed by them and returned to the secretary of state. Colvig had been holding the office of county school superintendent at Jacksonville. He was somewhat impatiently awaiting the arrival of his certificate of election as district attorney when one day a jaundiced citizen bounced a rock off the head of a fellow citizen and was arrested for assault.
    Tom Benton [Kent] next day met Colvig on the street and with some acrimony in his voice remarked: "Well, you've got a job now; go over to the court and prosecute the prisoner."
    Colvig, knowing in his heart that he was on exceedingly dangerous ground, had to admit that he had not yet qualified in the office.
    "What? Not qualified yet!" his enemy shouted. "Don't you know that the law says you shall qualify on or before the first Monday in July after your election--and today is Tuesday!"
    "Yes, but my certificate hasn't come."
    "Well--you're out," the other declared--"it is my duty, therefore, to continue in and retain the office of district attorney." Whereupon Thomas Benton Kent calmly sent a telegram to the secretary of state protesting Colvig's election and then went over to the courthouse to prosecute the prisoner, whither Colvig had already repaired. At once the atmosphere became ominous. Judge Webster was on the bench, and [Kent] announced his intentions. Colvig replied grimly that he would prosecute the case or there would be immediate trouble. Both men began removing their coats. Then Judge Webster, who in any emergency was a man of drastic action, rose up on the bench. Shaking his finger at both combatants he said: "Now, see here, you fellows; I shall fine each of you one hundred dollars for contempt if you fail to put on your coats and sit down--right now!" The threat had the desired effect. The judge then recognized Colvig in the case, [and Kent] departed in dudgeon and appealed the election for the supreme court.
    Shortly afterward the next clash came between the two rivals when an insane case came before the judge. Both lawyers were on hand to represent the county. The insane man sat there while they argued it all over again, and again the court held for Colvig. The next fall they went up to Salem and had it out before the supreme court, [Kent] being represented by Judge Hanna and three other strong lawyers, but Colvig's election was affirmed. It came out that the secretary of state had mailed his certificate of election to Napoleon instead of Kerbyville, and it had been delayed by various transfers in the stage mail.
    It is not so long ago that Colvig was an after-dinner speaker before the Klamath Falls Kiwanis. He began by telling that many years ago he had for six years been district attorney of the four counties, and that he felt quite at home with friends in Klamath Falls, having at one time or another convicted most of them. He then proceeded to recite a case in which he had prosecuted John and Dave Shook, prominent cattle ranchers, for gambling. He had John on the witness stand and was questioning him as to the particular saloon in which the game took place. "Did you play cards?" he demanded sternly of John.
    "Yes; a few."
    "What game did you play?"
    "Well, the same old game I played with the district attorney." (Rising uproar in court.) The judge rapped for order.
    "Where did you play this game with me?" the prosecutor asked, more mildly, but with excessive dignity.
    "You remember, in '82," [the] witness replied, "When you went up on the Sprague River fishing with Captain Day and some army officers, don't you?"
    "Yes, sir, I do."
    "You all were playing poker in a tent, and Dave and me came along and you invited us to set in the game--and we did, and you lost a--" The prosecutor had by this time regained his complacency and with a gesture signed the witness to stop.
    "That will do," he said. "It has nothing relevant to this case. I would call your attention to the fact that the statute of limitations on poker is three years, and the episode you mention was considerably prior to that period."
    Probably no Oregon lawyer of frontier days has lived whose career has given rise to more pioneer stories than has that of Judge Colvig. He was born in Ray County, Missouri, 82 years ago, and is still active, robust and a resident of Medford, Ore., where his shady porch [at 519 South Oakdale] is a sort of shrine for old-time tale mongers. He was seven years old when he crossed the plains with his father's ox teams. The covered wagon was the boy's alma mater. His mother taught him to read while crossing the plains. His aunt, a mother of three children, died on the road. They split cottonwood logs, covered her body between them in a trench and left it in this lonely grave, marked only by the transient furrows of the covered wagons that were driven over it to conceal the burial from Indian eyes. Thus three more small children were added to his mother's young brood.
    At The Dalles the family took canoes as far as the Cascades, where they were met by Thomas Carter, who platted Carter's addition to Portland. He took them to Portland, while the elder Colvig, with four oxen and the wagon with its battered household goods, took the Barlow route over the Cascades. Three weeks later, when they next saw him, he was slowly picking his way with the wobbly wagon and three lean oxen through the stump clearing of Carter's farm to the house where they were lodged. But still they had not reached the journey's end. Father Colvig was a Virginian, and he had not yet found familiar scenes. The following spring he loaded them all into the covered wagon and started the ox team south. At last they found the place, near Canyonville, where they settled on the farm where the Colvig family was reared.--(C. M. Hyskell, in Portland Telegram.)
Medford Mail Tribune, August 22, 1926, page 5

Flight Thrill Less than 1851 Trip
L.A. Times, October 28, 1926
    The thrill of a six-hour air voyage from Medford, Or. to Los Angeles, crossing the Tehachapi Range at an altitude of more than 10.000 feet, is not to be compared with that which comes from crossing the continent behind an ox team with bands of Indian marauders in almost constant pursuit, according to Judge William M. Colvig of Medford, Or., 83 years of age, attorney, who arrived here late yesterday afternoon via air mail for a visit with his son Pinto Colvig, 1221 Hyperion Avenue.
    And Judge Colvig, former Oregon Superior Court jurist and a Past Potentate of Hillah Temple of the Shrine, has tried them both.
    It was in 1851 that Judge Colvig set out from St. Joseph, Mo. with his father and mother and eleven brothers and sisters for the perilous trip across the continent. Indian attacks and a never-ending search for food and water were among the hardships that attended that trip.
    It was at 10 o'clock yesterday morning that the judge took off from the airport at Medford, and the staving off of the pangs of hunger before he reached the Ryan Airport here yesterday afternoon was the principal hardship of the trip.
    The big Ryan monoplane that carried the mail on the Coast run made but three stops between the Oregon city and Los Angeles--San Francisco, Fresno and Bakersfield--and these were for gasoline and oil alone: There was no time to eat. The judge made one confession, however.
    "Just before I climbed into the cockpit I took a big gulp of something of which Volstead wouldn't have approved," he declared. "I was going to fly for the first time and I was afraid of but one law--the law of gravitation."
    His fears were groundless, however, the pioneer of the West declared, and the principal thrill he received was in passing over Mt. Shasta, which he described as "reaching up into the skies, apparently a stopping place on the way to heaven."
    Judge Colvig was greeted on his arrival here by his son and daughter-in-law, and four grandsons, Bourke, William, Mason, Byington and Vance.
Los Angeles Times, October 28, 1926   Colvig complained (below) that much of this story wasn't true.

William M. Colvig, November 1, 1926 Oregonian
November 1, 1926 Oregonian

Impressions of Plane Ride to Los Angeles Told in Letter--
Pioneer Has Respect for Law of Gravity--First Desire at Start--Gives Vivid Description.
    To the Editor: I promised you a full account of my trip to Los Angeles by Pacific Air Transport. We left the landing field at 8:55 a.m., October 27th, and we reached Los Angeles at 4:40 p.m.m same day, making four stops on the journey, viz: Concord, San Francisco, Fresno and Bakersfield. To me, it was a day full of thrills. In my lifetime of more than four score years, I have traveled in many different ways. I came to Oregon in a covered wagon drawn by oxen in 1851. We were five and a half months coming from Westport, Missouri to Portland, Oregon. Our airplanes travel over the same route in less than fifty hours.
    I spent three years in the U.S. cavalry service, riding wild broncos and scouting over the sage plains west of the Rocky Mountains. In 1886, I went to New York by ocean steamer, and since that time I have traveled over every transcontinental railroad to the East. And so I had an intense desire to travel by airplane.
    There is always nervous fear on the part of anyone who has kept his feet on the ground through a long life, but that only lasts a short time, and is succeeded by a joyful confidence in the venture and a great feeling of pleasure in looking down on the swiftly changing pictures of earth. Mountain, hill and dale, but no time to meditate on this or that, as a new scene is always replacing that of the moment past.
    So it was with a silent and unspoken prayer in my heart for the guidance and protection of the great God of Nature, and, at the same time, a hope that there was no hidden defect in the construction of the delicate machinery of the airship.
    I entered and was chucked down into a little cubbyhole, where only my venerable head reached above the sides. Just at that time, when the engine began to whir, and the windmill in front commenced to revolve, I would have violated the Eighteenth Amendment, the Volstead Act, or any other old law for a rousing drink of Hennessey's "Three X." Speaking of law, there is one for which, during this trip, I will have great respect, and that is the law of gravitation. We are now "rarin' to go." We are off! Goodbye!
    For two minutes, I did not feel entirely at ease. I thought to myself: "After all, this is a good old world. I have enjoyed its many pleasures, and endured its vicissitudes for more than four score years, and I hate to leave it." After a few long breaths, all gloomy and foreboding thoughts were dissipated, and I was enraptured by the grand panorama which spread out beneath and over which we were flying. The weather was at its "best." There were only a few fleecy clouds flying, and no fog to hide the landscape below. We gradually rose to a height of nearly 9000 feet, and then I looked down upon the evergreen summits of the Siskiyou range of mountains, and looking back I took a farewell glimpse of Rogue River Valley--"the gem of the sundown seas." Yonder in front, old Shasta lifts his hoary head above all the earth around him, and seems an island rising from out the great sea, or a "resting place on the way to the stars." We did not attempt to compete with its snow-white summit, but swiftly moved o'er the dark forests around its base. In a few minutes, the castellated crags of the Sacramento mountains were in view. Dunsmuir, Redding and other towns and villages could be seen in the abysmal depths below. They looked like toy structures--playthings of the children of men.
    Courage, old heart? Don't beat so fast! Slow down! Yonder, just ahead, is the wide expanse of the Sacramento Valley, and many a good landing place, should we be forced by circumstances to make a forced landing. I had had dread of this casualty nearly all the way over, thus far. The crags and peaks, the interminable forests of fir and pine, the deep and dark canyons, were not places in which such a landing could be made, but now, thank God, we can go down to Mother Earth as gently as the falling snowflake. That is, of course, if nothing causes the law of gravitation to act hastily.
    While riding in an airship and going at the rate of 125 miles an hour, you do not seem to be going fast. When an auto in which you are riding reaches forty-five or fifty miles an hour, objects along the road seem to pass very swiftly, but not so in an airplane.
    The Sacramento River looks like a silver ribbon as it winds across the valley miles and miles in advance of your position in the plane. You can see the autos moving along the Pacific Highway, and they look like big black spiders. I never expect to look upon a more beautiful picture than is presented while looking down on the cultivated fields of California. It reminded me, especially around Fresno, of patchwork quilts that my grandmother used to make. The houses did not look larger than grains of corn; it was seldom that I could see people on the earth below. This cannot be done when you are over 4000 feet elevation. Deducting the four stops made, each about fifteen minutes, the entire distance from Medford to Los Angeles was covered in six hours and forty-five minutes actual flying time.
    Anyone who has never ridden in a plane gets a great thrill when the ship is making a landing. It turns up sideways, flies in a swift circle, just before it touches the earth. Some of the landing fields are very rough. This is particularly true of Fresno and Bakersfield. The field at San Francisco is along the bay, out about the Presidio. We stopped there fifteen minutes (there wasn't any earthquake while we were there). Rising from that field, we skirted along the foot of Market Street and very close to the Ferry Building. There, we took out across the bay, and across a large portion of South Oakland, Richmond and other villages. The airship then rose to the height of about 4000 feet. We crossed the Contra Costa hills, and into the San Joaquin Valley. In passing over San Francisco Bay, we were very close to Fort Alcatraz and the other islands of the bay.
    At Bakersfield, the plane gradually rises to a height of 10,000 feet [and] crosses the desolate and scarred summits of the Tehachapi Mountains. I would dread a forced landing at any point between Bakersfield and Los Angeles.
    This is a hurried account, and I will state in conclusion that I enjoyed every moment of the trip, but there is one thing that I will mention. It is rather aggravating to sit all day within two feet of an intelligent pilot and cannot speak one word to him because the whir of the engine makes it impossible for two people, though sitting side by side, to converse.
    Before I conclude, I want to say a word for these brave young pilots who are managing the airships of the Pacific line. They are brave, intelligent and loyal to every duty of their position. They do not try any stunts or unique features in flying or landing, and I believe that the time is near at hand when people who want to make a quick trip to any given point up and down the coast will go by air. I rode with the following pilots: Arthur Starbuck from Medford to San Francisco, Vance Brees from San Francisco to Fresno, and Charles Warner from Fresno to Los Angeles. "Pinto," my son, and his wife and my four grandchildren were at the landing field awaiting my arrival, also a reporter from the Los Angeles Times took a picture of myself and the pilot and from some source got up a story that appeared in the Times this morning. I am afraid that my Oregon friends will see it because a great portion of it is not true.
WM. M. COLVIG.        
    Los Angeles, Oct. 28.
Medford Mail Tribune, October 29, 1926, page 1

Judge Colvig Tells Story
    "Jesse James and I were born in the same town and in the same year," said Judge William M. Colvig, when I interviewed him recently at his home in Medford. "We were both born at Richmond, Mo. September 2, 1845. I spell my name 'Colvig,' though my father's grandfather signed his name 'Jean Baptiste Colvigne.' He was a sea captain and merchant trader. He became a partner of Mr. Lyngae, a wealthy Greek merchant. He married his partner's daughter, Zelesta Lyngae. She was born in Athens. My great-grandfather had charge of the Paris branch of the firm. Their son, Jacob Lyngae Colvigne, my grandfather, was born in Paris in 1776. When he was 18 he enlisted under Napoleon. He was wounded at the battle of Lodi, in 1795, when he was 19. With Napoleon in Egypt, he took part in the battle of the Pyramids. In 1800 he crossed the Alps. He took part in the battle of Marengo. In 1801 he was part of a detachment of French troops sent to put down a slave insurrection in the West Indies, led by Toussaint L'Ouverture. L'Ouverture acclaimed himself governor, promulgated a new constitution, abolished slavery, adopted free trade and confiscated the estates of the absentee French landlords. Napoleon sent a naval force to put down the insurrection. France and England at this time were at war, and Napoleon was threatening to invade England. Jerome Bonaparte, in charge of the expedition, to escape a battle with a superior English fleet put in at Baltimore, a neutral port. Here Jerome met, wooed and won a Baltimore belle, Miss Elizabeth Patterson.
    "Meanwhile, my grandfather's enlistment had expired, so he took French leave and settled at Leesburg, Va. As a young man he had been apprenticed to a cabinetmaker, so he took up his old trade, and soon his cherry and walnut furniture was in demand, and he had all he could do to supply his handmade chairs, highboys, bedsteads and tables to the wealthy planters. In 1809 he married Winifred Hoffman, a cousin of Robert E. Lee's father. She was only 15, and her relatives bitterly opposed the match. They promised to forgive her if she would leave her husband, but she was a high-spirited southern girl and refused. Her relatives bought up a note of my grandfather's, and when it fell due refused to renew it. They had him imprisoned for debt, thinking his wife would leave him. Instead of this she sold her jewelry, paid the note and, with her husband, moved to Ohio.
    "My father, Dr. William L. Colvig, was born at Leesburg, Va. in 1814. When he was 23 he was married at Marietta, Ohio to Helen Woodford. My mother, Helen Woodford Colvig, was born at Hartford, Conn. in 1816. The Woodfords and the Woodruffs came from England to Connecticut in 1640, and the families have intermarried till I have a host of relatives in both families.
    "On May 4, 1851, when I was 6 years old, we held an auction in our home at Parksville, Platte County, Missouri and sold everything that Mother did not want to take to Oregon. Our home was six miles from Westport, now Kansas City. Though I was only 6 years old, I still remember hearing the neighbors bid us goodbye and Godspeed. We camped at Platte City. Father and four other men who were on their way to Oregon decided to organize a wagon train. They constituted themselves a committee to pass on all applications of those wanting to join. Many applicants were rejected, either because they did not have the required amount of bacon, cornmeal, brown sugar and other supplies, because their firearms and ammunition were not up to the standard required, because their wagons and oxen were not considered heavy enough to make the trip across the plains, or because their moral character was not up to requirement. Some others who were acceptable refused to subscribe to the regulations drawn up by my father and the other four charter members of the company, so that when they were ready to go there were but 23 families who had signed, agreeing to obey the captain and stand by and assist the other members through thick and thin till their destination was reached. James Dunn, who located in Benton County, was elected captain. My father was elected assistant.
    "I can still visualize our family wagon. In it were my father and mother, we four boys and my baby sister, Wilda, nine months old. On a rack, fastened to the hickory wagon bows, was Father's Kentucky rifle, and beside it his powder horn and bullet pouch. On the side of the wagon bed the coffee mill was fastened. Mother had reduced the library to just a few books--the Bible, a hymn book, Pilgrim's Progress, Frost's Pictorial History of the United States, Webster's elementary spelling book and McGuffey's First and Second Readers. During the six months or more we were on the plains Mother had me recite to her, so that by the end of the trip I was reading in the Second Reader.
    "On the Sweetwater the men killed a number of buffalo and jerked the meat. After that, whenever we boys begged for something to eat, Mother would give us a hunk of buffalo 'jerky' to chew on. To every member of the train certain duties were assigned. My job was to gather buffalo chips for Mother to cook supper over at night. The Indians had burned the grass, so our fresh cows soon went dry, and we had to do without fresh milk. One day we had a heavy thunderstorm, and one of the wagons was struck by lightning. The lightning exploded a can of gunpowder in the wagon bed and wrecked the wagon and scattered its contents over the prairie. On one occasion the Indians gathered to attack the train. An old trapper and mountain man in our train had one of the wagons pull out to one side of the road and told the women to cry out loud. The Indian chief, dressed in his war paint, rode forward and asked why the women were wailing. The trapper said, 'They are crying for their dead, who have died of the cholera.' The chief rode back to his braves, and a moment or so later all we saw was a cloud of dust. They were deathly afraid of the cholera. They passed the word to the other tribes, who gave us a wide berth.
    "Four of our oxen died, so we had to abandon our largest wagon at Fort Hall. Near Salt Lake City our train divided, some going to California, and others decided to lay over for a while. With six other families we pressed on to the Willamette Valley, where we arrived on October 5. We went to the home of Tom Carter, at the head of Clay Street, in Portland, where we spent the winter of 1851 and '52." --(Portland Journal)
Medford Mail Tribune, May 15, 1927, page B4  Reprinted from the Oregon Journal, May 11, 1927, page 20

By Fred Lockley
    "It takes all kinds of people to make the world," said Judge William M. Colvig, when I visited him recently at his home in Medford. "Take the matter of crossing the plains, for example. Some were natural leaders; others had no initiative and were natural leaders. Some were helpful, others helpless. In our wagon train, in 1851, there was a fat, bald-headed little old man who had started out with two yoke of oxen. Two of these oxen played out in Utah, so Captain Dunn of our wagon train went over his load to see what best he could abandon. Among the things Captain Dunn threw out first were some flatirons, a heavy grindstone and some bricks. The owner of the wagon was greatly distressed and said, 'I swow, Captain, I can't allow you to throw them bricks away. I've hauled them upwards of a thousand miles, and I might need them in Oregon.' The captain proving adamant, the old gentleman turned to the other members of the wagon train and said, 'By zounds, gentlemen, I don't want to leave them bricks. They might come in mighty handy out in Oregon.'
    "Just east of Grand Ronde Valley two disreputable-looking Indians rode up to our camp and unsaddled their horses. Captain Dunn said to Father, 'If you have anything left from supper, scraps of any kind, we'd better give it to these two Indians, and then I'll make them move on; I don't like their looks.' Mother had a few bones left from our supper. She put these on a piece of canvas with some scraps of bread and Father motioned for the Indians to sit down and eat. The two Indians sat down, took off their hats, bowed their heads, and the older of the two said, in excellent English, 'Father, we thank Thee for this food. Bless it to our use and us to thy service. Bless our white friends. Guide them on their journey safely, and at last take them to be with Thee. Amen.' Captain Dunn gave my father a peculiar look and motioned him to one side and said, 'I guess, Doc, I won't make 'em move on after all.' The Indians told us they were members of Doctor Whitman's church at Waiilatpu and, though Dr. Whitman had been dead four years, they still gave thanks at their meals and tried to practice what Dr. and Mrs. Whitman had taught them.
    "At The Dalles Father hired a couple of Indians to take Mother and the children by canoe to the head of the Cascades, while he took the wagon on to the Willamette Valley over the Barlow Trail. My father and Tom Carter of Portland were old-time friends and neighbors at Athens, Ohio. Carter had crossed the plains to the Willamette Valley in 1847. He and Father had both planned to go that year, but Father was delayed and didn't get started till 1851. Father sent word to Carter by some emigrants that we were on our way. When we got to the foot of the Cascade rapids it was dusk. The steamer Lot Whitcomb was just pulling in. Carter stepped off the gangplank, recognized Mother and took us all aboard the Lot Whitcomb and we went with him to his newly finished, large and comfortable house at the head of Clay Street in Portland. When we got to his home Mr. Carter gave my brothers, Volney, Mark and George, and myself new hats and shoes, for we were barefooted and bareheaded from our long trip. Mr. Carter's daughter married Lafayette Grover, a rising young attorney, who later became governor of Oregon and United States senator. We spent the winter of 1851 and 1852 at the Carter home. Mr. Carter wanted Father to take 640 acres at Mount Tabor. Father said, 'Tom, I haven't crossed the continent and come clear out to the Willamette Valley to settle in a dense fir forest way out in the country.'
    "In the spring of 1852 Father hitched John and Charlie, our faithful oxen, to our prairie schooner and we went down the valley to Winchester, in Southern Oregon. Colonel William Martin told Father we could move into his cabin and have all his garden truck we needed. We stayed on the Martin place till the following October, when Father took up 640 acres near Canyonville. The following year, 1853, Father was appointed postmaster at Canyonville. B. F. Dowell, whose widow now lives in Portland and whose son, 'Biddy' Dowell, was chief of the Portland fire department some years ago, carried the mail from Jacksonville to Oakland. I used to watch eagerly to see him coming on his mule, leading another mule with the mail on it.
    "Father started a drug store at Canyonville in the winter of 1852. The winter of 1852 was severe. At one time we had over 20 travelers staying in our house who were trail-bound, not being able to go through the 12-mile canyon. Mother kept two kettles over the fireplace all the time, one filled with boiled wheat, the other with venison, so our guests had plenty to eat, even if there wasn't much variety. Among these storm-bound travelers was Judge Orange Jacobs, then a resident of Jacksonville but later supreme judge of Washington Territory.
    "The settlers near Canyonville decided to have a school, so they employed Samuel Strang as teacher. They made him sign an agreement not to get drunk for three months, the penalty being forfeiture of salary. He was a well-educated man and a good teacher. He died a few years later at Jacksonville, of delirium tremens. Later the directors employed I. M. Choynski. He taught one term and was employed to teach a second term, but the big boys put him out of the schoolhouse through the window and ran him off. His son, Joe Choynski, later won a national reputation as a prize fighter. Binger Hermann, later congressman from Oregon and commissioner of the general land office, taught several terms. Later a young man from Iowa, Rufus Mallory, who had come out to Oregon to die of consumption, served as teacher. He recovered from his lung trouble, represented Oregon in Congress and became an able and honored judge.
    "My brother Andrew was buried in Ohio. My brother Volney was county judge of Josephine County. He died two years ago. It must have been about January 1852, or possibly a little earlier, that Tom Dryer, editor of the Oregonian, who lived next door to us in Portland, gave Volney a job running the press once a week to get off the Weekly Oregonian. Mark was a miner, prospector and telegraph operator. He died at Canyonville. My brother Manson died in Missouri. I was the next child. My brother George is an attorney and lives at Grants Pass. My sister Wilda, who was a baby when we crossed the plains, married H. S. Emery of Ashland. John was chief of scouts under General McKenzie. He was killed by the Indians in Arizona. Oren and Aphia are dead."
Oregon Journal, Portland, May 12, 1927, page 16

    In the spring of 1863, I enlisted in Company C, First Oregon Cavalry, under Captain William Kelly. We located at Fort Klamath in the summer of '63. John W. Hillman was the first man to see Crater Lake. This was in 1852. No one believed his report of it, however, until Captain F. B. Sprague and his soldiers rediscovered it in 1865. I was at Fort Boise in 1865, and was sent to Vancouver to be mustered out. I received my discharge on April 5, 1865, and five days later I left Portland by steamer for San Francisco. From San Francisco I went on board the steamer Moses Taylor, en route for the Isthmus of Panama, crossed the Isthmus and went to Santiago, Cuba. I was on my way to New York City. I had $480 in gold coin in a buckskin pouch, which I carried in the inside pocket of my shirt. I tied the purse strings to my suspenders, so I could not lose it. The day we got to Santiago someone cut the buckskin strings of my purse and took my purse. I landed in New York with less than $2 in my pocket. I went to the Hotel Lovejoy, opposite the city park. I had a silver watch worth $40, a United States army Colt's revolver and some gold nuggets which I was taking back as presents to my friends. One of them weighed $20. I also had a new copy of Byron's poems. I took all of these things to a pawnbroker, who loaned me $47 on the lot. That was the last I ever saw of them.
    I bought a ticket for Wheeling, W.Va., where my father's brother had a store. I visited him for a short while and, borrowing $50 from him, I went to Zanesville, Ohio, to the oil fields. The oil wells were about 300 feet deep. The drills were operated by manpower. At first I got work running a drill. Later I learned to run a portable engine that pumped oil from the wells. I was paid $2 a day in greenbacks, which were worth 60 cents on the dollar. My employer later installed me as clerk in his store while he went to the mountains in West Virginia to drill a well at Burning Springs. Later he sent for me to run the engine, and we drilled the Lewis Wetzel oil well, which later became a big producer. I ran a store for him there all winter.
    I cast my first vote in 1864, when I was stationed at Fort Klamath. I was 19 years old, and I voted for Abraham Lincoln for president. There was some question about my voting before I was of age, but they finally decided that if I was old enough to fight for Lincoln, I was enough enough to vote for him.
Fred Lockley, "Impressions and Observations of the Journal Man," Oregon Journal, Portland, May 13, 1927, page 16

Celebrates 83rd Birthday
    Judge William M. Colvig, well-known Jackson County pioneer, is celebrating his 83rd birthday today. He has been a resident of this section since 1852. He crossed the plains as a boy of six years, with his parents, and is one of the oldest pioneers of the state, arriving in 1851. The judge was downtown this morning, as usual, greeting his numerous acquaintances.
    For many years Judge Colvig was connected with the legal department of the Southern Pacific. In his colorful life he was for three terms district attorney of Jackson County, secretary of the Chamber of Commerce, a veteran of the Civil War, a schoolteacher, and has the distinction of being the oldest passenger ever to fly in the planes of the P.A.T. service. He made the trip from this city to Los Angeles. He also was a soldier in the Indian wars in Klamath County. He is the only man in Jackson County who reads the Congressional Record with regularity, and gets up at four o'clock every morning, though he doesn't have to. He has also made more speeches, and knows Southern Oregon history better, than any other man.
    Judge Colvig received many congratulations and tokens from friends. His son Vance, connected with the movie industry at Los Angeles, sent him a cartoon depicting a happy incident.
Medford Mail Tribune, September 2, 1927, page 5

    One of Southern Oregon's grand old pioneers, 75 years a resident here, Judge William M. Colvig celebrated his eighty-third birthday yesterday.
    The venerable old patriarch, who learned to read while crossing the plains in 1850, has been linked with Jackson County politics and affairs for so many years, scarcely a home but knows his name.
    "Yes sir," he said yesterday, "if someone was to ask me to fly across the ocean with him in an airplane, I'd go. I'm kind of a fatalist anyway."
    Judge Colvig flew to Los Angeles in a plane last winter and figured prominently in coast news by his feat.
    Starting from the time he was born in Richmond, Mo., his has been a life of continual activity. He has probably held more different kinds of jobs than any man in the country.
    By turns he has been an Indian fighter, lawyer, school superintendent, soldier, district attorney of this county, president of the Medford Chamber of Commerce, historian, book agent, would-be legislator and writer and publisher of books.
    "How did you happen to be called judge?"
    "I guess because I was judge at a baby show once," he answered with a twinkle in his eye, once keen, but now grown dim with age.
    Judge Colvig was district attorney of the judicial district comprising Lake, Josephine, Jackson and Klamath counties and during that time prosecuted and convicted 10 out of 11 cases of homicide.
    He was county school superintendent from 1882 to 1886 and was for 12 years a member of the Oregon textbook commission.
    He was admitted to the bar, equipped with almost no actual legal learning, but despite his handicap he won six out of seven cases for men charged with murder.
    As a lawyer he fostered the first bar days of George M. Roberts, local attorney who recently finished the successful prosecution of the d'Autremont trio, and was also a partner of Evan Reames.
    During the Civil War he was in the army but did not see actual fighting. Later her fought Indians at Fort Klamath and is an old friend of Captain O. C. Applegate.
    That his memory is still good is seen when he remembered that three instead of two redskins were killed in the Klamath encounters, a statement as was made recently by Captain Applegate.
    Judge Colvig has seven children, four of whom are living: Vance "Pinto" Colvig, Don Colvig, Mrs. Helen M. Cook and Mrs. W. J. Warner. Besides that he has eight grandsons and six granddaughters.
    Although he said he was "sort of a fatalist," Judge Colvig does not expect to die. He wears a yellow ribbon advertising Medford's Jubilee of Visions Realized and rejoices to see the city today where once he gazed on nothing but weeds and scrub oak trees.
    "See you next year," were his parting words as he moved off, leaning on this cane, to chat with old friends who were congratulating him on his birthday anniversary.
Medford Daily News, September 3, 1927, page 1

    Judge William M. Colvig, in his eighty-fourth year, is hale and hearty, still an optimist, still interested in politics.
    He is going to vote for Al Smith because he does not believe Hoover is qualified to hold down the job of President.
    Since 1864, when he voted for Lincoln while he was a soldier in the cavalry at the age of 20, Judge Colvig has been voting for presidents.
    Each time he has picked the man who seemed to him to be the best fitted for the post and so has voted many times on both sides of the ticket.
    Back in Ray County, Missouri, in 1845, on the second day of September, he was born. Since that day his life has been as varied as the styles of clothes have been the last few years. Oil mining engineer, storekeeper, fair spieler, railroad man, hemp breaker, ranch office clerk, historian, school teacher, school superintendent and district attorney, Judge Colvig has been all of them during his 84 years of life.
    He is one of the happiest men we know. When he rises from his chair to greet you there is something in the clasp of his firm, old hand, in the look of his age-dimmed eye, that boosts your morale. It probably isn't his partisanship. It is his optimism.
    Had he been a Democrat or a Republican, he would have probably been just as cheery, although he swears he was born with his optimism and his human slant at life. He doesn't say the country will go to the dogs if Hoover is elected, but for him the sun rises and sets on Smith.
    And so the venerable old man, who has been both a Republican or a Bourbon [i.e., a Democrat], will cast his vote for President in November just as he has done 17 times already, and it happens to be this time on the Democratic time of the ticket.
Medford Daily News, September 4, 1928, page 2

    William M. Colvig, a pioneer of Southern Oregon, finds that trains are too slow for him, so when he travels he uses the air. Judge Colvig left Medford yesterday morning and in a jiffy he had landed in Portland in an airplane.
"Those Who Come and Go," Oregonian, Portland, July 12, 1929, page 8

    Medford post of the Grand Army of the Republic had some 70 members not so many years ago, but now only seven are living, and the other day when William M. Colvig, 85, the adjutant, called a meeting, not enough could respond to hold a gathering at all. Mr. Colvig was in Portland yesterday, registered at the Imperial, to give away his granddaughter, Rowen Gale, daughter of Mrs. Floyd Cook, who was married at noon to William Crawford. It was quite a family reunion, as Winsor Gale, Rowen's brother, who is in his third year at the United States Naval Academy, Annapolis, an appointee from Medford, was not for the occasion [sic]. Asked for his secret of longevity, Mr. Colvig's eyes twinkled. "Well, I was very good when I was young," he said. He came to Oregon in 1851, when 6 years old, and attended the old school down near the foot of Oak Street, where John Outhouse was teacher. The next year the family moved to southern Oregon. Mr. Colvig responded to the call for volunteers in the Civil War, joining the cavalry. The regulars were taken from the army posts, however, and the volunteers substituted in the posts, so he saw only Indian campaigning. After his discharge he joined a tramp schooner at San Francisco, crossed the isthmus by way of the lake of Nicaragua, and arrived in New York. From there he went to the oil fields of Ohio and was in Zanesville for a time, then at a big well in Worth County, West Virginia, that flowed 700 barrels a day. He was a clerk, worked in the harvest fields of the Middle West, and was barker for a revolving ride at county fairs. For exactly one hour he wielded a shovel on a railway job. He was hired in Missouri by the famous Confederate general Joseph Shelby, and the general, finding his workman was a magnificent penman, had him keep the accounts. Then he studied law under Judge Rodecker at Pekin, Ill., and taught school at Tremont, Ill., the home town of Harvey Scott, destined to become famous as the editor of the Oregonian, and of Abigail Scott Duniway. He joined the Lakeside Publishing Company of Chicago and was in California promoting a western branch when the company failed. He returned to Oregon, was elected school superintendent and later district attorney of the four counties. Later he practiced law, then joined the Southern Pacific and now is retired.--From "Those Who Come and Go" column, in Portland Oregonian.
Medford Mail Tribune,
September 22, 1929, page 3

COOK, Floyd J., manufacturer & inventor; b. Portland, Oregon March 16, 1883; Lawrence Portland Academy; m. Helen Colvig Gale, January 2, 1923. Secretary State Central Committee; delegate to Republican convention 1928. American Legion; M.A.A.C.; University Club. Republican. Address: Medford, Oregon.
Who's Who in Oregon 1929-1930, Oregon City Enterprise, page 61

    Judge W. M. Colvig, who has been visiting in Hollywood for the past month, returned to Medford last night, bringing with him his grandson, Byington Colvig, who will remain in this city until next fall.
    Byington is the eight-year-old son of "Pinto" Colvig, who is now under contract with Universal Pictures, doing fake and trick photography and writing titles. The latter is well known in Medford, where he made his home for many years.
Medford Mail Tribune, March 15, 1930, page 8

D.A.R. Places Marker Camp Baker, Phoenix
By Jane Snedicor

    Back in 1862 Southern Oregon was asked to furnish one company of infantry and one of cavalry for the Union army. Col. E. D. Baker, U.S. Senator from Oregon, had resigned and was in command of a Massachusetts regiment. It was rumored that these two Southern Oregon companies were to be sent to this eastern regiment and so the camp established just west of Phoenix was named Camp Baker. Each with a brother already in this camp, Judge William Colvig and his cousin, A. M. Woodford, our former postmaster, rode their horses from Jacksonville the morning of April 5, 1863, and enlisted at Camp Baker. These men were all doomed to disappointment, for the regular soldiers were sent east and the new company kept here for Indian service. Three months after he had enlisted, Judge Colvig was sent to Fort Klamath and it was not until last Tuesday morning, June 10, 1930, that he returned to the scene of these long-ago days, this time accompanied by one of his grandsons from Hollywood. Mrs. B. G. Harding, regent of Crater Lake chapter, D.A.R.; Jane Snedicor, chairman of the Committee for Marking Historical Spots, and Miss Amy Harding, he drove over the old parade grounds, now planted to alfalfa, and reviewed in interesting reminiscences the site of the once-famous camp on what is known as Coleman Creek.
    The site of the stables and some of the log cabins belonging to the camp touches the Calhoun road, and the present owner, Andrew Calhoun, was found to be very enthusiastic over the erecting of a permanent marker at this point on the Calhoun road.
    Crater Lake Chapter D.A.R. hopes to do this at an early date, but for the present have placed a temporary marker at this point.
    Judge Colvig recalled well the day when they enlisted and were set to digging out a pine stump upon which other new recruits had labored. Also that the state legislature paid each man $5 in gold for each month's service, and 40 cents per day for the use of his horse. Three years later, Judge Colvig left the army and with his 36 months' pay in his pocket went east, not to fight as he had hoped to do, but to study law and teach school, returning nine years later to make his home in the Rogue River Valley.
Medford Mail Tribune, June 15, 1930, page 5

New G.A.R. Commander Has Picturesque Career
    A pioneer of 1851 who crossed the plains from Missouri is William Mason Colvig of Medford and new state commander of the Grand Army of the Republic.
    "My mother taught me to read in the archway of the wagon drawn by oxen as we speeded dizzily over the plains at the rate of 10 or 12 miles a day," Comrade Colvig said. His father was William L. Colvig. The family left Missouri, where Comrade Colvig was born on September 2, 1845, for Oregon, the journey taking better than five months. There were 27 families in the caravan. Later the group divided, all but four families going to California. The Colvig family at Dallas notified a friend in Portland that they had arrived and sent word for him to meet them.
    The family was put in canoes to go down as far as Cascade Rapids where the friend, Thomas Carter, one who helped to lay out the city of Portland, met them. Indians carried the blankets and the family walked around the rapids.
    "We were ragged, dirty, bareheaded, barefooted, sunburned and weary, said Comrade Colvig, whose recollection of the trip is vivid, although he was but past six. An uncle and family came out with them, the uncle's wife dying on the trip and being buried on the banks of the Platte River. The Colvig family started out with two wagons, one with two oxen, and the other with three.
    When the mother and children got to Portland they were taken in by [the] Carters.
    "For four long weeks we waited for Father. We never had a word from him, for of course there were no telephones, telegraph and the like. He was coming over the Cascades with the wagons and oxen. After four weeks we saw him come struggling up the street, which was filled with stumps. Father, the oxen and the wagon were all worn out. He had been held in the snows of the Cascades after he had lost his way."
    After spending the winter in [Portland], the family started south. They stopped in southern Oregon, where the father took his donation claim on the Umpqua about a mile from Canyonville.
    "There was an Indian village on our home. They were very friendly Indians. I learned the Chinook jargon and can do it better than English," Mr. Colvig said, recalling a time when he gave an address at a meeting of eastern editors, only to have one young man say it was the purest Greek he had heard since he left college.
    Comrade Colvig enlisted in Company C, First Oregon Cavalry, serving three years to a day. He went in on April 5, 1863, and was discharged on April 5, 1866. For a full year after the war he served, being sent to the plains to fight Indians.
    After the war he went by steamer from San Francisco to Costa Rica, Nicaragua, Cuba and on to New York City.
    He had lost a brother, John Colvig, in the Civil War.
    For a time, Comrade Colvig taught in Illinois and studied law there. Then he returned to Oregon.
    For two years he was school superintendent in Jackson County, then served three terms as district attorney for the first judicial district, Lake, Klamath, Jackson and Josephine counties.
    "There were 11 murders during my time in office and I convicted 10," said Comrade Colvig, who is known as Judge Colvig.
    For 12 years he served on the Oregon state textbook commission. For nine years he was railroad tax and right of way agent for the Southern Pacific with offices in Portland.
    For 20-odd years he was local attorney for the Southern Pacific. He is retired now and lives at Medford with a daughter, Mrs. W. J. Warner. He has two daughters, Mrs. Warner and Mrs. Floyd Cook of Portland, and two sons. Don Colvig, who is head of the public school music [department] in Weed, Cal., and Vance Colvig, who is [a] titling gag writer in Hollywood. The latter son makes the animated cartoons for the movies.
Eugene Guard, June 26, 1930, page 14

    The air-minded people of Medford and the Rogue River Valley are still much up in the air--completely mystified as to what Fred Colvig intends to do with the turtles he is advertising for in the Mail Tribune, offering four bits for each live turtle which measures at least five or six inches across the widest part of its back.
    The turtles that have already been brought in are reposing in half-filled tubs in the back part of the Colvig drug store, and as still more are wanted kids from all over the county are seeking sizable turtles to fill the advertisement. One of the kids who have already delivered the goods was a girl.
    What on earth can Fred be up to? No one but himself knows. If he wants them for soup he should ask for bigger ones. Maybe he is going to establish them on a Tom Thumb golf course.
    One of the nicest turtles yet brought in, and over which the druggist was wont to wring his hands in Shylockian glee as in low Shakespearean-like voice he muttered something, is missing. When the M.G.M. lion gave an extra loud roar in front of the Rialto Theater yesterday afternoon, this turtle bolted out of his tub and out the back door with a gurgling-like noise sounding like "Here Dwells Youth, nit," and has not been seen since. It may turn up unexpectedly among the stock in Royal Lee's gents goods emporium next door. Tom Ginn of the Rialto Theater is looking for it also in that amusement house, as he is fond of fifty-cent pieces.
    In fact, Messrs. Lee and Ginn had about rigged up a scheme to purloin the Colvig turtles and sell them back again to Fred one by one, through some kid fellow conspirator.
    Mr. Colvig has nothing to say about what he wants the turtles for, except to state that when enough of them have been brought in, he will notify the public.
Medford Mail Tribune, August 5, 1930, page 5

Watch the Turtles
C O L V I G   D R U G S
$10 will be paid to the person who sees the 11
turtles line up to spell "Colvig Drugs."
See Them in the Window
Each Turtle Is Lettered
Medford Mail Tribune, August 9, 1930, page 2

    CRATER LAKE.--(Special.)--A member of a company of soldiers stationed at Fort Klamath years ago, Judge William Colvig of Medford was a visitor in the Crater Lake National Park recently, recalling the first time he had seen the lake back in 1865 when a group of cavalrymen visited the scenic wonder in the thought they were the discoverers. They had not heard of its previous discovery by John W. Hillman, a prospector.
    The 25 men in the party had been on a trip from the fort when they came into the lake area, Judge Colvig related. Camp was established in the present location of the park headquarters. From this point, the soldiers wandered up to the rim where the lodge is now located, beholding a sight which momentarily took their breath away. They believed they were on ground never before visited by white man and immediately decided to name the blue waters made so impressive by crater walls rising high around its entire circumference.
    Several names were suggested, and a vote resulted in the choice of "Lake Majesty," based on the majestic impressiveness of the scene. The name several years later was changed to Crater Lake.
    The soldiers continued to think they had come onto a new body of water until one member of the party recalled he had once heard of a young miner visiting the lake area 12 years before while in search of a lost mine. The miner had not realized the extent of his discovery and had not told many of his visit.
    Judge Colvig is the only surviving member of the soldier party.
Medford Mail Tribune, July 11, 1931, page 3

Colvig to Speak at Dedication of Bridge at Yreka
    Extensive plans are being made by Yreka, Calif. citizens for the dedication of the Pioneer Bridge near that city on August 29. The bridge will open the new and most recently completed link in the Pacific Highway near Yreka. The bridge and approaches have been under construction for many months.
    The Pioneer Bridge is 265 feet above the ground and is 794 feet in length, lacking only a foot of being three times as long as it is high.
    Pioneers of Siskiyou and northern California will be honored in the dedicatory services. Among the speakers on the program will be Judge William Colvig of Medford, who will speak on "Pioneer Stage Drivers, 1850 to 1887." The program will feature other speakers on pioneer subjects.
    Stage drivers through the northern California-southern Oregon district in early days will be honor guests at the celebration. A long list of the drivers, many of them known here, has been invited. A group of Medford citizens are planning to attend the opening of the bridge and will be joined by others from Ashland and Grants Pass.
Medford Mail Tribune, August 18, 1931, page 4

Judge Colvig, 88, Plans Centennial Celebration
    Judge Wm. M. Colvig, Medford's beloved veteran of the Civil War, and an authority on Indiana, war and law, is anticipating his centennial. For he has made a date with Mrs. Daisy Metschen of Portland for his one hundredth birthday party, he announced Friday, when receiving congratulations on his 88th birthday.
    Adopting his very best storytelling tone of voice, he reviewed the events which have been conducive to his good health, such as "life out of doors, riding and eating of common foods," and ended with the following explanation: "I've never passed up a drink of good whisky, nor failed to admire a good-looking woman."
    "I was awfully good when I was young," he added with a wink as he tapped his walking cane on the floor. "And I was born in Missouri."
    September 2, 1845 was the date, and Judge Colvig counts it in with the rest of his birthdays, bringing the total up to 88, "and why shouldn't I?" he asked yesterday. "It was the most important day in my life."
Excerpt, Medford Mail Tribune, September 5, 1932

    Last rites for Judge Wm. M. Colvig, Oregon pioneer, who crossed the plains in an ox wagon from Missouri in 1851, to become one of the state's first citizens, were held at the Perl Funeral Home Monday afternoon with friends present from many sections of the state to pay their last tribute to one who was interested until his death in the development of the Oregon country.
    Polk Hull and J. C. Woods, fellow veterans of the Civil War, stood the guard of honor at the funeral home, where services were in charge of the Warren Masonic Lodge No. 10 of Jacksonville, of which Judge Colvig was a member. Ritualistic services at the graveside in the old Jacksonville Cemetery were conducted by the Medford Post of the American Legion. The last military salute was fired by the National Guard.
    Acting as pallbearers were A. S. Rosenbaum, A. E. Reames, Col. W. H. Paine, W. F. Isaacs, T. W. Miles and W. R. Coleman.
    All veterans' organizations of the city were represented at the services, including the Grand Army of the Republic, whose few remaining members were in the guard of honor.
    As a veteran of the Civil War, a pioneer, whose stories of the early days were told in inspiring words; a friend of the American Indian and a citizen, working always for the advancement of Jackson County, Judge Colvig will be remembered in varied circles of the valley.
    He was a self-educated man, whose learning extended far beyond the walls of the little log schoolhouse where he studied for the few years that schooling was possible in the early date in Oregon. He was a student of Shakespeare, an orator of note, whose addresses were the life of many pioneer reunions, and an able attorney.
    From the Indians he learned to speak their language, and to understand many beauties of the Oregon country, not always appreciated by the settlers. He often said that he could speak "Indian better than English." His friendliness for the Indians developed when he was six years old and a group of red men appeared when the emigrant train, of which he was a member, reached the Snake River. There the Indians sat down to supper with the whites and offered an English prayer, which Judge Colvig never forgot. The Colvig family lived at Canyonville, Oregon, throughout the Indian war, but no one was harmed.
    In 1853 the government undertook construction of a military wagon road through the southern territory. The work was directed by Colonel Joe Hooker, who later fought in the "battle of the clouds" at Lookout Mountain. Judge Colvig remembered him well and the stories, which circulated about the territory. The colonel put in most of his time "playing seven-up for the drinks at the hotel bar," he often related.
    Interesting stories of his first schooling were also among Judge Colvig's favorites. His first teacher, Samuel Strong, he used to tell, was so fond of liquor that he had to sign a contract not to get drunk during the school term. If he did he would forfeit his wages. He got the money but later died of delirium tremens at Jacksonville.
    Judge Colvig's tales were always told with authenticity. That is why his death has deprived Oregon writers of an outstanding and dependable source of information.
    Judge Colvig was born at Knoxville, Mo., September 2, 1845, the son of Dr. William L. Colvig and Helen Woodford. Crossing the plains in '51 the family settled near Canyonville in Douglas County, which was scene of some of the most interesting stories recalled by the late narrator. In 1862 he enlisted in Co. C 1st Oregon Cavalry and was with the party which mapped a greater part of Klamath, Lake, Harney and Malheur counties. He was with the group of soldiers who first saw Crater Lake.
    Following his discharge from the Union Army, he spent eight years in the East and Middle West. Returning to Jackson County, he was married in 1879 to Addie Birdseye, a member of one of Southern Oregon's best-known pioneer families. He served as school superintendent of Jackson County, district attorney for the first judicial district, including Jackson, Lake, Josephine and Klamath counties. He was attorney for the Southern Pacific Railroad in Jackson County for several years, and in 1913 was appointed tax and right-of-way agent for the company with offices in Portland.
    In 1918 he retired and came to Medford, where he had since made his home with his daughter, Mrs. William Warner. He also leaves a daughter, Mrs. Floyd Cook of Portland, and two sons, Vance (Pinto) Colvig of Hollywood and Don Colvig of Weed, Cal., all of whom were here for the funeral services. Grandchildren present were: David Colvig of Weed, Courtney Colvig of Hollywood and Gordon and Margaret Warner of Medford.
    Among others from out of town for the funeral were Mr. and Mrs. James Lathrop of the Southern Pacific offices in Portland, Sam Mathis and Mrs. Effie Birdseye of Rogue River.
Medford News, January 22, 1936, page 1

    "Canyon Passage!" The story of my grandparents' life might well have been the inspiration for Ernest Haycox' book.
    My maternal grandmother, whose maiden name was Clara Fleming, was 16 years old in 1850 when she arrived in Oregon from Virginia, via the covered wagon. Soon after her arrival in Portland she met David Nelson Birdseye, and in 1852 was married to him. Both Clara and David came from Colonial stock, so in pioneering it to the Far West they each did their part in carrying out the vision which their Colonial ancestors had cherished when they landed on the eastern shores of America almost two centuries before.
To Indian Country
    Immediately after their marriage, the youthful bride and groom set out on horseback to "the bad Indian country," as the Rogue River Valley was called in those days--and where my grandfather previously had taken up his donation land claim.
    They set up housekeeping in a one-room log cabin with dirt floor and paper windows, and for a time the Indians gave no trouble and little fear to them or the other widely scattered settlers of the valley. In fact, my grandmother had made friends with some of the squaws, and there were two of them who helped with the work in and around the cabin. What housework there could have been in a one-room cabin which necessitated inside help I've never been able to figure out, but Grandma had been used to Negroes in Virginia and if she couldn't procure their help in Oregon she utilized what native help was available.
Burn Homes
    When the Lupton affair took place in 1855, the Indians, upon whom the white men, led by Lupton, had fired, killing some of their tribe, retaliated by killing settlers and burning their homes all through the valley. One of these squaws whom Grandma had befriended gave her warning of the coming massacres. Nearby settlers were hastily summoned to the Birdseye place and the men constructed a stockade 80 by 40 feet, out of logs two feet thick and 14 feet high. From October, 1855, to the following March of '56, these settlers "forted up," living in comparative, yet alert and nervous, safety, while death and destruction struck suddenly and cruelly all around them through the entire length of the Rogue River Valley. There were a few women and children gathered there, but the majority of people behind the stockade were men. General Lane made his headquarters at the Birdseye place and at one time, counting in the volunteers and soldiers, there were over 500 people in the fort, and to this day the ranch is known as "Fort Birdseye." [Lane's presence at Fort Birdseye is otherwise unknown to history. Lane participated in the 1853 war, but not that of 1855-56.]
Second Child
    At the time of the Indian war my grandmother had one small child (I think he, James B., was the second white child to be born in Jackson County) and in January, 1856, in that log cabin, behind the stockade, my mother, Addie Birdseye, was born. Twenty-three years later she was married to my father, William M. Colvig.
    In the spring, after the wars were over, a new house, quite large and pretentious, compared to the one-room cabin, was built about 200 yards from the site of the original fort buildings. It was made of hand-hewn logs, and many of the settlers who had found safety behind the stockade helped in the construction of it. How well they built is testified by the fact that the house is still standing today and is occupied by my aunt, Mrs. Effie Birdseye, and her son, Glen. In 1929 the D.A.R.s erected a monument there to commemorate the part which Fort Birdseye played in the early history of Southern Oregon.
Born There
    I was born on my grandparents' farm and spent all of my summer vacations there until I was grown up. With my brothers, sisters and cousins, I played endless days through, building dams in "Birdseye Creek" and boats to sail or float on the deepened water. Whenever we wanted building material for our projects, we got it from a pile of rotting logs behind an old smokehouse, and I now have reason to believe that those old logs, which also made a good bonfire on pleasant evenings, were part of the stockade which surrounded the fort during the Indian wars. Now that some children of the fourth generation occasionally visit the Birdseye farm, a few of these salvaged original logs are treated with proper awe and respect by them. My grandmother lived to be 80 years old, living out her years on the ranch. Grandfather died about 15 years before she did.
House Kept
    My aunt keeps the old house in its original state and with its original furnishings. A "Chickering" square piano, which came around the Horn and was brought into the valley on muleback from Crescent City, graces the living room. Scattered through the house are some other pieces of "round the Horn" furniture. Mingled with pioneer homemade chairs, tables and bedsteads, flintlock guns, powder horns, muzzle-loading rifles, candle molds and endless other museum pieces are kept in their age-old accustomed places./
    From the exterior one cannot quickly discern the adzed logs of the house, for the honeysuckle, jasmine and Virginia creeper, imported years ago from Grandma's native state, now entirely cover the walk and room of the entire structure. The tiny window panes peer through these vines like the almost sightless eyes of an old, old person, and like an old, old person seem to turn their vision inward, dwelling on long-cherished memories rather than seeing the exciting, hurrying changes rushing by one's very doorstep.
Helen Colvig Cook, Medford Mail Tribune, February 20, 1949, page 14

    Orchids for one of the week's most interesting conversations go to Mrs. Floyd J. Cook of Portland, in Medford to visit her sister, Mrs. William J. Warner, and other relatives. Mrs. Cook and a brother, Don Colvig, came to the valley last weekend to attend the annual Jacksonville Jubilee and for a family reunion.
    Jacksonville is "home" to the Colvigs, for the family lived there for many years, and Mrs. Cook was married in the Colvig home. She and her brother and Mrs. Warner enjoyed strolling the streets of their former home town and meeting friends they had not seen in many, many years. The family had hoped that Vance, known to thousands of movie and radio fans as "Pinto" Colvig, could be here, too, but that proved impossible.
    Mrs. Cook and her brother, Don, went back to Jacksonville Monday after the crowds were gone and the town was settling down to normal and went to see the house in which they had lived as children. Strangers now live in it, but the two visitors were made welcome and were allowed to walk through the familiar rooms.
    After we had chatted some time Mrs. Cook apologized for taking so much time and added, "I'm a great talker--all the Colvigs are, and I'm the worst." She then told how one of her traveling companions on the bus which brought her to Medford tapped her on the shoulder at Roseburg and said how much he had enjoyed listening to her on the trip down from Portland. "Do you know you've talked all the way from Portland to Roseburg?" he asked the embarrassed Mrs. Cook. When she began to apologize he hurriedly added that he had enjoyed her conversation very much, even though it wasn't addressed to him, and he'd had to sort of lean out into the middle of the aisle to hear. "I thought ail the time he was trying to look through the window beyond me," said Mrs. Cook, "and I wondered why he didn't look out of the one on his side of the bus."
    The conversation over the phone progressed from the Army academy scandal to education methods for present-day high schools. Mrs. Cook's son attended the U.S. Naval Academy, so she was more than interested in the West Point exposé. Her grandson, who lives with her, graduated this spring from a Portland high school, so she is up to date on that age, too. Mrs. Cook said in the particular school which her grandson attended anyone who studies hard to get good grades is considered ever-so-slightly stupid to bother with such nonsense, and most of the young people do just enough studying to stay in school and be eligible for athletic teams and school activities.
    Mrs. Cook said, however, that she believes the home is just as important as the school in education of the child, and told how her father read Shakespeare and other classic literature to his family, continuing his own education as well as helping to lay a foundation for that of his children. "I can still quote passages from Wordsworth and Shakespeare," she said with satisfaction.
Olive Starcher, "Potpourri," Medford Mail Tribune, August 12, 1951, page 7

    At the Gordon Warner home the reporter and photographer spent a fascinating two hours looking at historic diaries, maps, letters and journals, many written by the late William Mason Colvig. W. J. Warner, son-in-law of the well-known early day lawyer who was termed "judge" by many of his friends and "governor" by the younger men of the family, has many stories of this colorful man.
    William Colvig came to Oregon from Platte County, Missouri as a small boy with his parents, arriving in Portland in 1852 and later moving to the Canyonville area. William's father, William Lyngae Colvig, was a physician.
    William and his brother, Volney, were among the men who made up the volunteer Company C, First Oregon Cavalry. They thought they were going to be sent south to fight in the Civil War--instead they remained in Oregon and William, who was company clerk, went on an expedition into the area which is now roughly Klamath, Lake and Malheur counties. William drew a crude map of the territory--the first ever made--and the map was later sent to Washington, D.C. for copying. The original is one of the family's most cherished possessions.
    Mr. Warner recalls that Doctor Colvig and his wife, who had 10 children of their own, also raised two of the Woodford boys, the Woodfords being related. The Woodfords also remained in this area and became one of the well-known families.
    William Mason Colvig, who married Adelaide Birdseye, spoke the Indian language well and set down in his writings material which the Indians told him. The includes the beautiful Indian fable, told to him by the Klamath chief Lalek, about the origin of Crater Lake. The "judge" always defended the Indians, and maintained that they were honest, intelligent, honorable people whose lives had been ruined by the coming of the whites.
    When Potpourri asked Mr. Warner about Mr. Colvig's judgeship, Mr. W. smiled and said his father-in-law had been given the title by fellow citizens and recalled that the "judge" had been wont to say in fun that the only thing he was a judge of was good whiskey.
    Mr. Warner enjoys telling another story about "the governor," who remained rugged and individualistic until his death when he was in his 80s. One day a man called the judge an insulting name. Without hesitation Mr. Colvig, then well past 80 years of age, drew back his fist and socked the offender.
Olive Starcher, "Potpourri," Medford Mail Tribune, March 1, 1959, page B7

Mrs. Helen Cook Dies in Portland
    News of the death of Mrs. Helen Colvig Cook, who died at her home in Portland Friday, has been received here by relatives.
    Mrs. Cook, a daughter of the Southern Oregon pioneer couple, William and Addie Birdsey Colvig, was born and reared in Jacksonville and lived in Jackson County until her marriage.
    She is survived by a daughter, Mrs. Rowan Leckenby, with whom she had made her home in recent years, and two brothers, Donald L. Colvig, Templeton, Calif., and Vance (Pinto) Colvig, Hollywood. She was a sister of the late Mrs. William J, Warner (Mary Colvig) of Medford, and Mrs. Clarence L. Reames. A son, Winsor Colvig Gale, was  killed in World War II while serving with the United States armed forces.
    Funeral services were scheduled this afternoon at the Finley home, Portland.
Medford Mail Tribune, November 14, 1961, page 9

Last revised July 19, 2022