The Infamous Black Bird Southern Oregon History, Revised

Abby Does Jacksonville

And other Southern Oregon news from the New Northwest.

I am pleased to be able to report that the lodges of I.O.G.T. in this part of our state are generally in a very prosperous condition. The one that meets here is one of the finest that it has been my good fortune to visit. The attendance is quite large, and the interest in the literary exercises, conducted under the management of the Lodge, is good indeed.
    At Phoenix I addressed a large and and attentive audience, and, after the lecture, seven of the best citizens made petition to become members of the Lodge there.
    Last night, with the aid of State Deputy Rev. J. S. McCain, I succeeded in again planting the standard of our Order in Jacksonville. Alpha No. 1 was established there nearly eleven years ago, but years since ceased to work for the reclamation of the citizens from intemperate habits, and has been numbered with the lodges that were. But, thanks to the devotion of some old veterans and a few new recruits who are determined in this matter, we have another band that bids fair to do effective service in battling the rum demon.
    F. Kasshafer is W.C.T. of the new Lodge, with Elva E. McCain W.V.T., Dora L. Cardwell P.W.C.T., and John Dollarhide L.D.
    At Canyonville I found Brother E. W. Dixon, Dr. Whittemore, and a host of others making the influence of the Order felt in that locality.
    Stage comes, and I must close.
Yours fraternally,
    W. R. DUNBAR.
Ashland, May 5, 1876.
The New Northwest, Portland, May 12, 1876, page 2

    (A woman, and an ardent friend of woman, handed us a few days since the subjoined statement, which, in accordance with the request of numerous friends, and illustrative of the ungodliness and intolerance of sectarianism, as well as the bigotry of some persons (or parsons) who, with "impious piety," declare themselves called of the Master to do His work, we publish, leaving those who believe that "women should keep silence," as well as those who believe that God, Creator wise, gave women tongues wherewith to sound His praises, to form their own conclusions.--Ed.)
    On the evening of May 30th, I attended a Methodist camp-meeting on the banks of the Rogue River. After preaching was over, "mourners" were called for, and the call was responded to by four or five persons, who knelt, asking prayers. After about an hour had passed I went to the pastor in charge, Rev. J. S. McCain, and asked permission to speak to those who knelt at the altar. He replied, "Say on." I then quoted the thirty-eighth verse of the second chapter of the Acts of the Apostles, which reads as follows: "Then said Peter unto them, Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost." "Only this, and nothing more," I said, and took my seat. On the evening of June 1st I again attended the meeting, and, by invitation, took a seat inside the altar, participating in the worship of God with true purpose of heart by mingling my voice with others in singing praises to His holy name. After preaching, repeated prayers were offered asking God to come down right now and bless and save these poor sinners who had been persuaded and pulled down into an attitude of supplication at the mourner's bench in the hope to get religion. Two hours passed in prayer and exhortation, and the meeting was dismissed without any manifestation of pardon on the part of seekers. Before leaving the ground, I felt it my duty to speak to a mourning sister who stood near, and, approaching her in love and solicitude, I quoted again the text above referred to. No sooner had the words of Peter fallen from my lips, than Parson McCain rushed up to me, exclaiming, in angry tones, "You hush! This is our meeting, and I won't allow you to interfere! I will have you arrested!" at the same time waving his hand in my face, and gave me a slight push backward. He then mounted the mourner's bench and called for his officer, gesticulating, and threatening to arrest any and every one who should disturb his meeting. The reader will bear in mind that all this occurred after the meeting had been dismissed. If his religion prompts him to have a woman arrested for quoting a verse of Scripture that she considers applicable to the case of those who are seeking the better way, it might perhaps lead him to pull on the end of a rope in order to help hang an innocent man. My reason for making this statement, and asking its publication in the exponent of equal rights is that I have been maligned and misrepresented by this preacher, and wish the people to know the facts in the case.
Jacksonville, June 3, 1876.
    The names of some twelve or fifteen persons attesting the truth of the above statement, we omit for want of space.
The New Northwest, Portland, June 30, 1876, page 2

    We remember, and it was not so long ago, that editors in Oregon who possessed the moral courage to come boldly out in the face of obstacles with which the New Northwest each week contended--calumny, misrepresentation, and ridicule--and dare contend for the political equality of woman, were few, few indeed.
    In noting the change in public sentiment on this living issue during the past five years, we can now point proudly to many of the journals of the state as exponents of the principle of human rights, where erstwhile not one was found. Inasmuch as it is both good and pleasant for members of the fraternity to live in unity, we rejoice at the great change and appreciate the kindly sentiments expressed from time to time by our brethren of the quill. Under these circumstances it is with pleasure that we give the following extracts from a letter from Brother Sutton, of the Ashland Tidings, to our readers: "It is no idle words with me when I say to you that my most heartfelt sympathies are with you in the noble cause you advocate. Should I succeed, and I doubt not that I will, in establishing the Tidings on a permanent foundation, you may count it as a helper to the extent of its ability in the battle for right which must ensue between the present time and the next session of our Legislature. Southern Oregon is a good field for labor in that direction. There is a latent love for liberty in the breasts of many good men and women which will spring into action almost at the bidding. Mrs. Duniway's torch could set the field ablaze and lock the gates of the next Assembly against any man who could not rise above the traditional prejudices of the forefathers'."
    We sincerely welcome the Tidings to its place in the proud ranks of those who demand universal freedom for all who are born to its fair heritage, and trust that the hopes of its editor may be realized, the paper be established on a permanent basis, and the message it bears ever be glad Tidings of liberty, peace, and good will.
The New Northwest, Portland, December 8, 1876, page 2

    The following closing sentences of an able editorial upon Woman Suffrage, which appeared in the last issue of the Ashland Tidings, we commend to the careful perusal of women who have all the rights they want, and to men who oppose with irrelevant bluster and nonsense the demands of women for the ballot:
    "It is not the mere formality of the ballot that the women want. They want the ballot as a means to protect themselves; they want the ballot as a means to abridge the absolute power of bad men; they want the ballot as a means to repeal all unjust laws against their sex, and they want it as a means to assert the individuality that God has given them. Had man, the present lawmaker, so framed his laws as to grant woman the justice due, she would not today be demanding the ballot. But this could not be. All history in every age of the world, among the most enlightened as well as the most debased races of men, show, without a single exception, that human nature will not accord to a dependent equal or just rights. Then let us profit by the lesson history gives, and elevate woman that we may elevate our race. Let us avail ourselves of an opportunity to avert the calamity that is awaiting some of our daughters, for most assuredly some of them are destined to fall into the clutches of bad men.
The New Northwest, Portland, December 22, 1876, page 2

    Although somewhat secluded from society in this southern mining district, we still take a deep interest in the work which your journal--a regular visitor to one of our number--so earnestly advocates.
    Prior to coming here I was a resident of Walla Walla, where I had the pleasure of hearing Mrs. Duniway lecture two years since. I will not say that I was then and there converted to the doctrine she so ably preached, that conversion having long before taken place, but I subscribed for the New Northwest, and have since read it regularly. Besides reading the papers myself, I have sent them around through the camp, and have lectured at home to the old bachelors who abound, until I have had the pleasure of seeing many of their prejudices against equal rights vanish, gradually, it is true, but still vanish. Here, as elsewhere, I am sorry to say that some of our most bitter and unthinking opponents are among members of our own sex, but then we cannot wonder that long years of serfdom will give persons the spirits of slaves. We must wait, nay, we can afford to wait, for a gradual change is sure to be permanent.
    I shall indeed be happy and proud to do all I can to give circulation to the "People's Paper" in this camp and elsewhere, when opportunity offers. It is with me, however, as with hundreds of other women in the land; the cares of a large family, struggles with poverty and want of education prevent myriads of women from aiding as they otherwise would be glad to do in the advancement of just and equal opportunities for their sex. I will, however, do the best that I can. (And who shall say after all that though its results are slow it is not first best?) I will train up my girls and boys to be strong in the doctrines of universal liberty, and use whatever influence I may possess to bring those around me to see and bask in the light of freedom.
    With now and ever best wishes for the cause, and its earnest exponent, the New Northwest, I am respectfully,
Galice Creek, December 16, 1876.
The New Northwest, Portland, December 29, 1876, page 2

     Situated as we are in a secluded corner of Josephine County, I thought perhaps might write you a few items that would be of interest to the many readers of your valuable paper. Although women are but few here, we find some that have the stamina to openly advocate the right, and are making inroads upon the prejudices of some of the people, that awakens them to think of things that apparently never entered their minds before.
    I am pleased to see the steady and firm progress the Woman Suffrage question is making in the different states and territories, and the consideration it received at the hands of the late national conventions of the two great political parties of the day. It is conclusive evidence that ere the dawn of another Presidential election, our mothers, wives, sisters and daughters will stand side by side with us, and will have an equal voice in the nominating and electing of the persons (not men) who fill the various offices of our country.
    The principal interests of this county are the mines that are being developed in quartz and gravel ranges. There is a company now incorporated that have commenced work on the Great Yank Ledge, and from present prospects, it is destined to become the bonanza of the Pacific Coast. There are many other ledges that prospect well, and will doubtless be valuable in the near future.
    The great gravel range and ditch formerly owned by J. H. Reed, of Portland, is now in the hands of an English company that have expended seventy-five or eighty thousand dollars in bringing in a ditch and putting on machinery. It is paying well, and will do much toward developing the gravel ranges of Southern Oregon. Also the claim of Courtney & Co., on the same range, has yielded well. Though not worked on so large a scale as that of the English company, they have moved a great amount of gravel and opened up an old channel from two to three hundred feet wide that prospects better than anything I have seen in Southern Oregon, and the owners deserve great credit for the energy they have displayed in opening up their mine, and they will undoubtedly be well remunerated, as they have a splendid water right and plenty of good ground to last them for many years.
    The farming in this county is very limited, but crops, so far as they go, look well.
    That the time will soon come when the immense resources of this locality will be made to add to the wealth of enterprising laborers, is the wish of
Galice Creek, July 17, 1876.
The New Northwest, Portland, July 28, 1876, page 2

    In accordance with your expressed wish for correspondence from various parts of the state, I beg leave to submit a few items concerning this mining region.
    The stream known as Galice Creek is a mountain stream heading in the Coast Range and emptying into Rogue River about twenty miles west of the regular stage road and fifty-five miles northwest of Jacksonville. Although seemingly quiet and peaceful, it has the history of tumult and bloodshed as well as other places of greeter notoriety.
    Twenty-five years ago, when this country was deeply inhabited by Indians, and a few adventurous bands of white men were roaming these craggy mountains in search of the precious metal, Galice Creek was discovered. Investigation proved it to be one of the richest mining ledges in Southern Oregon, if not on the coast. Great fortunes were unearthed, and many have possessed themselves of them, returned to their homes to enjoy the fruits of their toil. Others less fortunate remained and toiled and hoped on. Some of these were subsequently driven out by hostile Indians, and not a few brave fortune-seekers met their doom at the hands of blood-thirsty savages.
    Traveling through this country, now so peaceful and quiet, it seems like a strange, weird dream to recall the scenes of bloodshed and dire cruelty to which these mountains were witnesses, and standing in their mute presence, we feel almost thankful that they hold in everlasting silence many of the tragic tales that garrulous witnesses might rehearse. The conflict between the red man and the white is here, as elsewhere, finished by the complete supremacy of the latter. The triumph is so complete that scarcely an Indian remains as a reminder of a bygone era.
    Two years ago, when your humble correspondent first came to this camp, but two Indian men remained here--one a native Indian, the other an old Mexican Indian who had located on a farm on Rogue River before the war. This last was a firm friend to the miners throughout the war. and had they heeded his warnings, a great many who suffered death might have escaped. This dreadful war--how dreadful only shuddering frontier settlers can tell--began, I think, in '52, and lasted, with short intervals of peace, till '56. The Indians who remained at this time were by treaty removed to Grand Ronde Reservation in Yamhill County, where, with the exception of a few families, they still remain.
    During the period of which I have spoken the mines were deserted, most of the richest claims having been worked out, and the rich gold deposits of Eastern Oregon, Washington and Idaho having been discovered, the poorer diggings were abandoned. The mines in this section are at present confined to the gravel and placer mines. The company known as the "English Hydraulic Mining Company" worked their mines last winter to great advantage. They are well provided with all the modern improvements for mining, including a twenty-two-inch pipe and two "giants" ready for use as soon as the water comes. Last year was a much more favorable year for mining operations than the present one has been thus far, owing to the scarcity of rain this season. Another claim known as the "Reed claim" has also two fifteen-inch pipes and two "giants" waiting for water to commence operations. These mines are situated on the south side of Galice Creek, on the mountain from 600 to 800 feet above the level of the creek, and as the miners express it, "have plenty of dump." Their depth is from 60 to 100 feet, and they appear to have been at some remote period the channel of a large river. The water by which they are supplied is taken by a ditch from a fork of Galice Creek. This ditch is six miles in length and was constructed at great expense and affords water for mining purposes from six to eight [months] in the year. The claim of Capt. A. P. Ankeny & Co. is similarly situated and similarly rigged for work. Their ditch is four miles long and traverses about 250 acres of mining ground. There is also a claim being opened on the north side of Rogue River by Wm. Bybee & Co. that prospects well and will no doubt yield ample returns to the enterprising owners. There are also other claims of minor importance that are being worked with satisfactory results. The numerous quartz ledges in this county are receiving but little attention at the present time, although some are going on quietly prospecting with full confidence that they have a good thing. The famous "Yank Ledge," situated on the north aide of Rogue River, and which has been thoroughly tested and found to be rich both in gold and silver, has suspended operations, owing to the designing intrigue of the superintendent, but I believe it is the intention of the company to resume work again at an early day.
    This county is vastly rich in mineral resources, and only wants men and capital to cause it to add its golden dower to the wealth of the world. That it is destined to be one of the richest mining fields in the world, I believe to be a fact.
    There can be but little said in regard to the social privileges of the camp. This is not so much because of the lack of material to form good society as because of the almost impassable condition of the country. Deep cañons and steep mountains do not tend to make travel easy.
    The weather at this time is delightful, and but for the fact that the mines cannot be worked without rain, would be much enjoyed by all.
    I shall continue, as I have for some time been doing, to use my best endeavors to get subscribers for the New Northwest. I find but few friends to the cause of equal rights in our midst. We are sadly in need of some able exponent of freedom to come and work among us. I hope Mrs. Duniway, or Mrs. Loughary, or some other person with active brain and ready tongue, will find it convenient to visit us during the spring months, for, indeed, the need is great and the laborers are few.
    If you find the foregoing acceptable, you may expect in the near future to hear something further from this part of Oregon. In the meantime, be assured of my best wishes for the success of the New Northwest, its editors, and all other workers in the cause of right.
Galice Creek, January 5, 1877.
The New Northwest, Portland, January 19, 1877, page 2

     I see by your paper the annual meeting of the Woman Suffrage Association will be held on the 13th of February. Wishing to become a member of the Association, I should like to know what steps are necessary, what the expense would be, and who to address. As there may be others desiring to become members, it would probably be to the interest of your readers that you answer through your valuable paper.
    I should like so much to be present at a meeting of the Association, but family cares prevent, and besides, I would not attend without my better half, as he is not addicted to going on excursions without me, and you know we should be just in all things.
    I am much gratified to notice a decided improvement in the sentiments of the women of our country, indicating a desire to be considered equals and coworkers with husbands and brothers.
    I am also pleased to note a growing disposition on the part of men to recognize ability and intelligence in women, and their right to social equality. The avidity with which women grasp every opportunity offered them, shows that it is appreciated. I have a confident hope we may yet live to see the triumph of justice to woman, notwithstanding such sheets as the Jacksonville Times still make sport of Woman Suffrage, even to the extent of being personal. (See Times of 30th of December.) The time will come when that "Sail-trimmer" will deem it expedient to court popularity by a change of tactics.
    Should you find anyone wishing to subscribe for a Southern Oregon paper, you can safely recommend the Ashland Tidings.
    Wishing you abundant success, I remain sincerely yours,
Jackson County, Or., Jan. 14, 1877.
The New Northwest, Portland, January 26, 1877, page 2

    Although I have nothing new under the sun to write today, yet I feel like scribbling a little. Situated as we are, away off in one corner of the earth, if we do not make a little noise for ourselves no one will make it for us.
    We were blessed a short time ago with sufficient rain to start the pipes on the hydraulic diggings. The miners were in great glee, but their spirits fell below zero when in about three days the rain ceased, and ever since we have had cold nights and sunny days. The miners have almost despaired of having a run this season. It is best to live in hopes, however, if we land in despair, but the consequence is that when rain is scarce, times are hard.
    Captain Ankeny paid a hasty visit to the county, on business associated with his mining claims, recently, but has returned to Portland.
    We have a debating society at Galice City. The all-important question, "Resolved, That women are entitled to all the civil rights that men enjoy," was recently debated. The question had been debated before by the same persons and decided against women, but this time [with] Captain Ankeny, acting as president, and a woman to vindicate the cause of women, the question was easily won.
    Perhaps Galice City sounds nice away off at Portland, but don't flatter yourselves that it is a large flourishing city. It has one hotel, two stores, and one mantrap (saloon). The said city covers about a half mile of ground. It is located on Rogue River, about twelve miles from the wagon road, at the nearest point. Transportation is made with pack animals that distance.
    I notice in my last article in the New Northwest, speaking of the water privileges belonging to Ankeny & Co. and the English Hydraulic Mining Company, the word "weeks" occurs where it should have been months.
    We have one great blessing to brag of here. That is good health, but while we labor under so many disadvantages, I suppose we are entitled to at least one, and that is the greatest blessing after all that a person can enjoy.
    How I long to be present at the Women Suffrage Convention now in session at Albany. But we can only wait and work with patience, knowing that the time is not far distant when the great, grand and glorious victory for which noble men and women are working so faithfully will soon be achieved.
    With sincere good wishes for the future prosperity of the paper, the editors, and all friends to the cause, I remain most respectfully,
Galice Creek, February 15, 1877.
The New Northwest, Portland, February 23, 1877, page 2

    As I feel deeply interested in the great cause for which you are battling so hard, I feel it my duty as well as a great pleasure to offer something to encourage you on your way.
    When reading sketches of the letter from Jacksonville, and the low, cowardly advantage the man (if man he might be called) took of his loving wife in taking out her letters, reading them, and answering to suit himself without her knowledge, and then putting her in front to stem the current and explain the dilemma in which they had fallen, my cheek tinged with shame to think that one of my sex, born of a mother, nurtured, loved and cherished by a mother, should allow his narrow-gauge, pent-up orthodox ideas to be pinched in by the casings of such blind prejudice. But until women stand on an equal footing, free and independent beside their fathers, husbands, sons and brothers, then, and not till then, will they assert their liberty and not be made to crouch beneath the tyranny of those they well know to be their inferiors.
    As I write I call to my mind an instance of a man that has long been in this section, with no ambition or aspirations beyond sufficient food and limited clothing. But as fortune favored him, and accidental circumstances drifted him into the society of women, he made the acquaintance, courted and wedded a lady of some business talent. His married life has been but short, but how marked the change; he now comes to the front and is looked upon as a man of business, and a useful and good citizen. And yet the main drive wheel that has brought about this great change and keeps the machinery of business in motion stands in the background, and is only known to the outside world as Mrs. ------.
    And so it is in many cases that husbands are buoyed up by their wives, and held to an honorable position in society and among their fellow men. But when they lose that loved companion and her kind counsel, they gradually sink to the lower grade of society as naturally as water will seek its level. We often, if not always, find these same individuals opposed to Woman Suffrage.
    When Napoleon forsook the Empress Josephine, from that time his decline appears to have commenced, and yet history tells us that after he had forsaken her and thereby outraged her feelings, he often went to her for counsel, which she freely gave.
    But the time is approaching and people are beginning to think for themselves, consequently more liberal views are taken, and we are gradually gaining ground.
And now may God help on the cause
    And sound the gladdening note,
When legislatures change the laws
    And let the women vote.
Galice Creek, June 1, 1877.
The New Northwest, Portland, June 8, 1877, page 2

    Allow an earnest co-worker in the cause of human rights, who has followed you in your peregrinations across the continent, and rather impatiently awaited your return, to extend you a most cordial welcome to your home, and to the fields that are ripening for the harvest that was planted mainly by your own hands, with the seeds of truth that are already yielding such golden fruits for our common cause.
    I cannot forbear to assure you of my gratification at the excellent conduct of our paper during your prolonged absence. It never failed in interest, and your friends in this section indulge the hope that "ye associate" will be allowed to continue to engineer it while you turn your attention to the lecture-field, as such work is much needed in this section.
    Our cause is gaining ground every day, and it is forcing itself with steps almost noiseless into every home, no matter how humble, in the land. Especially is the injustice engendered by the selfish arrogance of masculine government felt in the homes of the more wealthy class. Among laboring people the masculine element generously (?) accords to the gentler sex the right to labor, not alone for their daily bread, but in many instances for the family sustenance, while the fortunate possessor of a few thousands, with an egotism born of a pestilential power, regards his unpretending helpmeet as an object of charity, who can alone subsist by the grace of his generous condescension, and one that the Supreme Ruler has launched upon the great sea of active life as an insignificant satellite to a gorgeous luminary.
    Your "associate" has kept the lamps of truth trimmed and burning during your absence, and we accord to her a generous meed of well-earned praise for her active labors and untiring zeal, while we feel assured that your labors East shall be as bread cast upon the waters, to return to our benefit in the near future.
    Please notify me of the date that my subscription expires, as I do not wish to miss one number of your valuable paper.
    I feel particularly gratified at your complimentary notice of Mrs. B. A. Owens, whom I have known from childhood, and who has surmounted many obstacles to reach the position she occupies today. Complimentary mention of the honorable endeavor and success of those women who have dared ridicule and braved contumely to elevate not only themselves, but their sex, is sanctioned by right and approved by justice, and women owe this recompense of praise to their sister women who have bravely battled and bravely won a name and place in the world's broad fields. I hope and believe that such at example may inspire others to rise superior to adverse circumstances, and, notwithstanding their sex and previous condition of servitude, climb the steeps to where "fame and competence and honor await them."
    With my most earnest wishes that both Mrs. C. and yourself may long continue to hold the lamp of truth that will safely guide benighted humanity in the ways of wisdom and happiness, I remain yours for the right,
Jacksonville, April 18, 1877.
The New Northwest, Portland, April 27, 1877, page 2

    Weather permitting, Mrs. Duniway will start for Southern Oregon tomorrow (Friday) morning for an extended lecturing and canvassing tour. She will go south as far as Jacksonville, and be absent six weeks or two months. Parties in arrears will please be prepared for her visits.
The New Northwest, Portland, May 22, 1879, page 2

    My pen has long been idle. I have read the New Northwest regularly, and often longed to write. Hearken to the reasons for silence, and I am sure that you will be convinced that they are sufficient. Around my hearthstone gathers a large family of children, and upon my bosom nestles a babe. The children are all in school, and every day brings its round of washing, ironing, cooking, sweeping and sewing, and every hour its care of the "blessed baby." No help, and one pair of hands to do it all; you who have been similarly situated know that while thinking, thinking goes constantly on, writing is almost out of the question. A woman's willingness to bear these heavy burdens may not be questioned, but the wisdom and justice of imposing heavy manual labor upon mothers of young children may be seriously questioned so long as help even in the form of Chinese labor offers. If we who believe that any saving which overtaxes a mother's strength, leaving her "few hours for pleasure, none for rest," is the poorest and most heartless economy, could season the victuals we cook while carrying a restless child on the hip with our thoughts, wouldn't they be bitter with just rebellion? If we could stitch them into the clothing we make, or rub them into the garments we wash while one foot propelled by tired muscles does duty on the cradle rocker, wouldn't the raiment of the household bristle with arguments unanswerable against the injustice of drudging motherhood? Or, if a telephone could be brought to the service, conveying our thoughts directly to the press, thousands of voices would swell the tumult in calling for equal rights that now are silent, not from choice or from apathy, but for want of time to transcribe their experiences or protests with pen or pencil. To extol women who are content in such a life is to apostrophize ignorance that has no aspirations. To characterize such a life of unending toil coupled with the discharge of maternal functions and duties as "woman's sphere" is an insult to enlightened womanhood. To declare that women, while thus being prostrated physically and rasped mentally, are just sufferers of the primal curse, is to blaspheme the Almighty.
    Southern Oregon is far behind on the principles of equal rights. We were greatly in hopes that Mrs. Duniway would be able to reach this place, and yet hope to see her during the summer or fall. Temperance is also at a low ebb. Mr. Dunbar lectured here on the evening of the 24th, and those who were privileged to hear him were highly entertained. The political cauldron is boiling, boiling. A few days and we will know who is who, if not what is what. If Mr. Beekman is as well appreciated abroad as at home, his election is assured. The weather has been very dry during the spring months, but recently it has rained, and the gardens and crops are greatly refreshed.
    Hoping that all good workers in the good cause may prosper, and so prosper its advancement, I am as ever a faithful friend and good wisher.
Jacksonville, May 30, 1878.
The New Northwest, Portland, June 7, 1878, page 3

    Colvig & Rowe, at McCoy's grove, Willow Springs, are making the largest, best and in every way most comfortable dancing pavilion ever constructed in Southern Oregon. It will accommodate twelve sets at a time.
    Quite a number of ladies and gentlemen from this place paid Willow Springs a visit Sunday to witness the drill for the equestrian exercises announced for the Fourth of July celebration at McCoy's grove, and which proved unique and interesting.
"Brief Reference," Democratic Times, Jacksonville, June 27, 1879, page 3

    Mrs. Duniway speaks at Willow Springs on the Fourth.
"Local Items," Oregon Sentinel, Jacksonville, July 2, 1879, page 3

    DISTINGUISHED VISITOR.--Mrs. Abigail Scott Duniway, the talented editress of the New Northwest, is sojourning here and intends remaining a month in the valley. It is the lady's intention to lecture at various points on the disabilities of her sex, and on moral and educational and religious topics. Her established reputation as a laborer in the cause of oppressed womanhood must command good audiences. We hope to be able to announce her appointments. Her lecture on Sunday was to an overflowing house, the subject being "Woman and Bible," and strangely enough to say, the ladies of the audience were less pleased than the sterner sex, who were the subject of attack. The lecturess declared that her mission was to make woman discontented, but we noticed on Monday morning that housewives were at the washtub as usual, happy to know that they had any linen to cleanse and husbands to buy soap. All of which shows the utter perversity of womankind, or their sensible appreciation of the sphere in which God has placed them.

Oregon Sentinel, Jacksonville, July 2, 1879, page 3

    "DAVID AND ANNA MATSON."--This is the title of an excellent little work by Mrs. Duniway, with a copy of which we have been favored. It has been the recipient of many encomiums, and, as it has passed through two editions, is evidently popular. We will attempt its review at some future time.

Democratic Times, Jacksonville, July 4, 1879, page 3

    IN TOWN.--Mrs. Abigail Scott Duniway, editress of the New Northwest of Portland, and a lady well known throughout the state, arrived in Jacksonville on Friday last. She will remain in this section for several weeks, delivering lectures and looking after the interests of her paper, as also a poetical work written by herself. Mrs. Duniway stands at the head of the Woman Suffrage Party of Oregon, and her lectures in this place during the past week were in a great measure devoted to the inculcation of ideas in consonance with its objects. Much at fault as her views upon the enfranchisement of woman are, and in opposition to those of a majority of her auditors as they must be, her excellent command of language, tempered with a degree of wit and sarcasm, gain for her the attention and respect not always accorded public speakers espousing unpopular causes. Unsupported by cogent arguments, Mrs. Duniway, by ludicrous comparisons and a deft manipulation of extraordinary cases, very likely frames an excuse for the woman suffrage movement in the minds of some. While we cannot endorse the objects of her mission, her ability and perseverance in so hopeless a cause must be complimented. Mrs. Duniway will visit different points of Jackson County before returning to Portland, and may take occasion to deliver further lectures in Jacksonville.
Democratic Times, Jacksonville, July 4, 1879, page 3

    Mrs. Abigail Scott Duniway will deliver a lecture at the Willow Springs parade ground today, at four o'clock p.m., choosing as her subject "The Declaration of Independence."
"Brief Reference,"
Democratic Times, Jacksonville, July 4, 1879, page 3

    Mrs. A. S. Duniway, of the New Northwest, is in Jacksonville, advancing the interests of her paper and the cause of woman suffrage. She began a course of lectures in the church at Jacksonville last Sunday evening. Mrs. D. will spend several weeks in our valley, and will visit Ashland in a short time.

"Local Briefs,"
Democratic Times, Jacksonville, July 4, 1879, page 3

    The course of lectures announced by Mrs. Abigail Scott Duniway ended Wednesday evening; at all except one the attendance was very good, and on that particular evening there seemed to be a universal fear on the part of the men that they might hear something unpleasant, and consequently they stayed away. Perhaps they expected to hear enough at home, and worn with the business cares of the day had no desire to anticipate. At all events the superior sex seem willing to show the white feather and by unmanly capitulation left her the mistress of the field. When a lady assumes a public position she invites criticism, and the examination of her theories should be fair, without reference to sex or "previous condition of servitude," and to say that her lectures were the mere twaddle of a discontented woman would be unfair. To say they had no [bearing] on many of the abuses of [society] would be unjust, that they were wholly unmixed with common sense and truth would be false. Indeed they were a strange, grotesque mosaic of philosophy and physics, plain common sense and things calculated to excite the mirth of the audience all grouped round the "central idea" of woman suffrage. Mrs. Duniway has achieved prominence among those who hope to redress woman's wrongs and reform the abuses of society, but we do not think that her zeal is controlled by the calm, sober judgment taught by history and experience. Universal, complete, unlimited female enfranchisement, political and social, all embodied in the right to vote, is to be the panacea to cure the civil, political and social ills of life. In this we differ. Reform to be lasting must be gradual, and life bears burdens that no legislation may lighten; society itself inflicts wrongs that only the slow growth of a pure and sound sentiment can redress. In our opinion this sudden, full enfranchisement would only increase the cares and responsibilities of female existence. Let us grow wise slowly. Let us observe the lessons of nature and not try to quicken an oak into a mushroom growth at the expense of fiber and strength and durability. Let us try partial suffrage, first the right to vote on all educational and moral questions, the right to say whether saloons should be opened on Sunday or opened at all--and we doubt not that the experiment would be successful. Mrs. Duniway is hardly fair to the sterner sex, hardly fair to her own in asserting that woman is weak and powerless. She withholds history and forgets to tell of the notable instances of woman's tyranny and by what subtle, gentle power she governs. She might have told us of many a Cleopatra who, with a wave of her jeweled finger, ruled all the nations of half the earth through a weak and doting Antony, and have added that love rules the world today, but it suited her better to make us shoulder all the sins of omission and commission. As a lecturess Mrs. Duniway is bright, spirited, witty, cultured, modest and thoughtful and shows strong will and extraordinary ability. Some of her theories are extravagantly Utopian, some of her pictures of life sadly and truthfully real, others overdrawn and extravagant. Let us be fair to Mrs. Duniway and listen to her as gentlemen. If we are afraid she will say something unpalatable, then there is something wrong. If we are as we claim to be, guiltless, surely we need not fear to face a woman. Her lectures will be found very entertaining, and as we have all learned something from our own it would be singular if we derive no instruction from somebody else's mother.
Oregon Sentinel, Jacksonville, July 9, 1879, page 2

    LECTURES.--Mrs. Duniway is announced to lecture next Sunday at the church at Manzanita at eleven a.m., subject "The Centennial Year." She is at present engaged in lecturing at Phoenix, and will return to Jacksonville on Friday. Next Tuesday she begins a course of lectures in Ashland, and will lecture twice in this city on her return, giving her closing address for the benefit of the M.E. Church.

Oregon Sentinel, Jacksonville, July 9, 1879, page 3

    DAVID AND ANNA MATSON.--This is the title of a poetical work by Mrs. Abigail Scott Duniway which has reached its third edition. It is an  Eastern story told in a manner that shows the genius of the authoress, and is one of those works that will bear acquaintance. The binding and general style of the book is elegant, and it contains a faithful engraving of Mrs. Duniway, who is in this county canvassing for it with good success. The volume also contains a number of beautiful Oregon poems.

Oregon Sentinel, Jacksonville, July 9, 1879, page 3

    Mrs. Abigail Scott Duniway lectured on Sunday evening to an audience which was large considering the rain. The subject was "everyday religion."
    Mrs. Duniway invited "not" to speak at Willow Springs on the Fourth for fear of disarranging the exercises. We are ashamed of the judgment of our friends down there as to expect to prevent a woman from talking on "Independence" day was simply preposterous and of course she had a large and attentive audience.
"Local Items,"
Oregon Sentinel, Jacksonville, July 9, 1879, page 3

Dear readers of the New Northwest:
    On the morning of the 26th ult., after having passed a sleepless night--the result of a strange premonition afterward accounted for in a sad bereavement in a relative's household [the death of Duniway's niece, 20-year-old Elvia H. Fearnside]--the news of which reached us four days later in the shape of an obituary in the columns of the New Northwest [Duniway's own newspaper, published in her absence] of the same date--we were roused from a couch of restlessness to try the realities of a hundred-mile journey by stagecoach, our destination Jacksonville.
    When you go by rail or steamer you cannot possibly realize one-half of the incidents of your journey. The fatigue is too slight, the transit too rapid, the comforts too many. In such cases you grow indolent as you travel, and if your way is long you will unconsciously forget to look about you. Very different are your sensations when you mount the box above the stagecoach boot, and, seated behind the prancing six-horse team, suffer yourself to be strapped upon your precarious perch beside the obliging driver, your main business for the next twenty-four hours being an attempt to hold your place and ease, as well as may be, the constantly recurring jolts that shake you to a jelly and bruise you to a pulp.
    All day long the patient horses pursue their winding way, in diligent obedience to the driver's whip. The stage road winds along through the labyrinthine mazes of narrow valleys that form divides between the zigzag heights which stretch themselves away upon either hand, as though, sometime during a great internal rupture in the ages gone, their closed sides had parted, leaving all exposed and bare the erewhile hidden rivers that come tearing down the gorges to form a patch of earth upon either bank, upon which men have founded farms and stock ranches, leaving only room between their borders for the tortuous river and the winding road. And such ranches! The alluvial deposits of centuries of mountainside abrasion have so prodigally enriched them that, almost without human effort, the soil produces with amazing power and regularity. One old man occupies, or, rather, claims several thousand acres in one locality, who has raised a bountiful crop of wheat every season for thirty years, without rotation or the idea of it upon a single field. Of course this man is rich; that is, as men count riches. But he lives in a tumble-down old shanty and dresses in patched butternut, and his equally ragged old wife goes barefoot. They have raised somewhere about a dozen sons, who will inherit these possessions someday, and will, it is to be hoped, prove less greedy than their parents, and enjoy a little more of life than the bare, comfortless idea of struggling through a checkered existence for the sole purpose of ascertaining how little they can use with benefit to themselves.
    Noon, and Canyonville. Here we encounter an intelligent landlady, an hour's rest, and a good dinner. Then we journey on, sometimes passing for miles through a tree-studded gulch, sometimes slowly climbing great mountains and again rapidly dashing down them, and at sundown we reach a beautiful and fertile valley where there is a store and stage station; and here we halt for supper, to be met by genial Mrs. Kitchen and her amiable daughter, Mrs. Levins, the latter a whilom schoolmate of our younger brothers and sisters at Forest Grove, and the former a specially wide-awake woman suffragist. After a supper fit for a king, we journey on and on, into the heart of the night, into the heart of the mountains, over zigzag roads and past many winding turns of the busy Rogue River, our companions for miles the beautiful deer, that are so little afraid of the coach and team that they amble gracefully up to me in the waning twilight and gaze wistfully into our faces, regardless of the murderous wishes of the driver, who vainly swears for a revolver. Then, as darkness takes the place of twilight, the glorious stars come out in myriads and hang their flaming jewels in the limpid heavens, fit monarchs of the mighty solitude.
    Sometime after midnight, we reached a way station, where we changed horses, and, after driving onward for a mile or so, discovered that the whip, that indispensable weapon without which no driver could think of hazarding his reputation as a modern Jehu, had been lost or left behind. The driver suddenly gave us the lines, and, alighting, loosened the off tug of the off wheeler [i.e., the right-hand strap from the collar of the right-hand horse nearest the coach], so that the coach might not run many yards without a complete smashup if the team should get frightened, and, leaving us there alone in the darkness, so securely strapped in the perch behind the apron that we couldn't extricate ourself from the buckles, though we tore our gloves to shreds in the attempt, hurried back with a lamp, and was gone a trifle over twenty minutes, though to the solitary wanderer it seemed nearer twenty hours. Once, while the stillness was so profound that we fancied we could almost hear the twinkling of the distant stars, we were startled by a sudden "loo" from some awakening cow in ambush, which so frightened the near leader that he danced an equine hornpipe. Maybe we didn't pull the ribbons and say, "Whoa beauties!" and "Oh mercy!" and "Why did the driver cripple the coach before he left it?" and many other things which can't now be remembered. But that off wheeler proved a veritable brick. He acted as though he was fully aware of the situation, and felt that the entire responsibility of the safety of the United States mail was resting on his tug-burdened shoulders.
    "Why did you unhitch the tug, throw off the brake, and leave me wholly at the mercy of the horses?" we asked, nervously, as the driver came panting up.
    "The horses won't start when one of the wheelers knows a tug's loose and on his back," he said, carelessly, as, readjusting the hooks, mounting to his perch, and vigorously damning the socket that wouldn't hold a whip properly, he lashed the team to a tight run, and on we crashed at a fearful rate, obliged to make up for lost time.
    Morning, and breakfast at Rock Point, fourteen miles from Jacksonville, a picturesque spot to which we shall again allude before returning home. Then a three hours' ride brings us to Jacksonville, our place of present destination, and we give a sigh of relief at the prospect of speedy rest, as we look abroad over the landscape and think of the nearby hotel.
    Away, away to the left, as the stage bounds, bumps and crashes along, we see the broad and beautiful valley of Rogue River, looking in the uncertain haze of the summer morning like a vision of Paradise. The valleys are so level, the trees so graceful, and the whole so vastly magnificent that it would seem impossible that want or greed or turmoil or politics or drunkenness or scandal should ever enter. At the head of the valley, hemmed in by an amphitheater of billowy hills, sits Jacksonville, in solitary state, like a reigning queen who scorns to hold communion with her surrounding subjects. The little wooden hotel, in which we find cozy quarters, is a model of neatness and comfort, and is kept by Mr. and Mrs. Savage, who certainly deserve the patronage they get. There are ever so many well-filled stores, and a bank, of which C. C. Beekman is president. There are two churches, three livery stables, three hotels, three millinery stores, and more lady clerks than in any other town on the coast. There is a notable lady here, Mrs. P. J. Ryan, who was editor of a newspaper in Indiana at the opening of the rebellion, who is now heavily engaged with her husband in the dry goods business [Elizabeth St. Clair Ryan, 1838-1913]. Mrs. Plymale, estimable wife of Hon. W. J. Plymale, who was once a member of the legislature, is one of the most active workers in the woman suffrage field whom we have met anywhere. She is sharper than lightning, and it is little wonder that evil-doers fear her. In addition to the care of her family of eight children, she is a high officer among the Odd Fellows and in the Grange, is a writer for the newspapers, and a good public speaker.
    We had crept, more dead than alive, to our room at the hotel, and, after a bath and luncheon, had spent several hours in a vain attempt to coax jaded nature into a tranquil slumber, when to our great delight Mrs. Plymale, accompanied by Mrs. McDonough, of Willow Springs, was shown to the room, where we planned for a campaign, which began on Sunday evening, the 29th ult., in the Methodist Church, before a large and, for the most part, happy audience, though the subject, "Woman and the Bible," proved so clearly the palpable fallacy of the "one-sided curse" theory that several man's rights fogeys got awfully scared to think we'd knocked their Bible pins from under 'em, and they have since endeavored to move heaven and earth to prevent the men from attending other lectures. The masses of women and the smartest men will attend, in spite of them, however, though the Sentinel, in trying to carry water on both shoulders, gave a very flattering and yet altogether unfair account of the first lecture, in the evident hope to aid the opposition and mollify us. But the editor really meant to compliment us, and it isn't his fault that, after we had given him arguments, we couldn't give him brains to comprehend them. The Times, the other newspaper here, has not, at this writing, spoken, though the editor is an able young man, and we look for courtesy from him when he does speak. He is a financial success, and is consequently above being a hack for weak-minded man's rights simpletons. One peculiarity of the men has amused us greatly. Quite a number of them have run like Turks--or turkeys--at our approach. One, a merchant, who is a commissioned brigadier general of the home guards under Governor Taylor [Thomas G. Reames], scooted out at the back door of his store as we entered, and we could easily have captured the whole concern with a single blank cartridge if his younger brother hadn't held the fort like a man. In this instance, the Governor, who is usually correct in his conclusions, gave the commission to the wrong person. Surely he could not have been personally acquainted with little Tommy Reames, or he would not have removed a veteran of thirty years' standing like General Ross to make room for a brigadier who would run from a lady whom everybody knows had no evil designs upon him. The deputy sheriff was another protector of the public interests who deserted his post at our approach, although our old friend McPherson had come along to introduce and protect him, and even if we had had any evil designs upon him or his office, would not have permitted us to injure a single hair of his cowardly head.
    Every city has its dignitaries, and prominent among those of Jacksonville is Madame Jane Holt, who keeps a famous and well-regulated hotel, and who is granddaughter to the French Duke de la Roboam, whose family was one of the most powerful in France during the palmy days of the Bourbon dynasty.
    This (Wednesday) evening is to be the fourth occasion of our protracted meetings. The audiences on week nights are not large, as it is near the glorious Fourth. The evenings are short and everybody is busy.
    We forgot to say that Judge Prim is another protector of the people's interests who ducks his head and runs when he sees us. His protected and supported wife, whom he once banished from her home and children for two years because he was weak enough to permit somebody to slander her, and who finally allowed her to come back to him for her children's sake and his own convenience, is keeping a very nice and prosperous millinery store, and is wise enough to buy her goods in Portland and patronize her own state, instead of California. We're glad we've heard the other side of the Judge's well-known domestic story. While men only had control of newspapers, such men could pass for angels of mercy, no matter how tyrannical they had been. But a better day is dawning, and justice will yet assert herself everywhere, not even excepting in the men's rights courts. But, to return to the men who run at our approach. They remind us of the old schoolday rhyme, which, with a little variation, reads as follows:
"We charged upon a flock of geese
    And put them all to flight,
 And not one sturdy gander
    Has thought to show us fight."
    We bear letters of introduction from various lower valley dignitaries to various masculine nabobs in this beautiful region, and, after we've had time to see what we can do on our own responsibility, just as we used to be compelled to do everywhere, we'll present the letters, and then, dear, confidential reader, we'll tell you all about the fun. There are a number of would-be prominent men in this place who have tried their best, because of their ignorance of our position, to snub and ignore and ridicule us, who, did they but know what their impudence will cost them, would bow like monkeys and chatter like magpies. It's too jolly for anything.
    On the Fourth we are to orate by special invitation at Willow Springs, although the regular order of business was arranged before our arrival. We also acknowledge a like invitation from Jacksonville, though it came too late for acceptance, and we are physically unable to do the necessary traveling and make the two addresses in the heat of one tropical day.
A.S.D. [Abigail Scott Duniway]    
    July 2nd, 1879.
The New Northwest, Portland, July 10, 1879, page 2

    The celebration at McCoy's grove, near Willow Springs, was nonetheless an unqualified success. Many from a distance were no doubt deterred from attending by the gloomy weather prevailing that morning, but the crowd was, if anything, larger than the one present at the celebration in Jacksonville. Estimates made by those who had an opportunity of judging place the number at not less than 1,100 persons, who came from every portion of the country. The committee of arrangements was assiduous in its duties, neglecting not the slightest detail, and that its efforts were eminently successful all will attest. The exercises were very interesting and duly appreciated, comprising prayer by Elder M. Peterson, reading of the Declaration of Independence by Frank Sifers, and an eloquent oration by Nat. Langell, all of which was interspersed with excellent music by the tuneful glee club. The equestrian quadrille and lancer's tournament proved a prominent feature and displayed to good effect the equestrianism of the ladies and gentlemen participating as well as the training they had received at the hands of Major Colvig. The grounds had been furnished with a spacious dancing pavilion by Colvig & Rowe, and the afternoon and evening were agreeably spent in "tripping the light fantastic toe" to the dulcet strains of Prof. Scott's string band. The whole affair was enlivened by a short and pithy address from Mrs. Duniway, who did not fail to avail herself of this opportunity to score "those awful men." Various amusements were also afforded, and the "wee sma' hours of morn" had arrived before the last could prevail upon themselves to conclude the festivities of the event. Nothing occurred to mar the pleasures of the day, a fact that added greatly to the success of the celebration.
"The Celebration of Our Natal Day," Democratic Times, July 11, 1879, page 2

    LECTURES.--Mrs. Duniway will lecture at the Manzanita Church next Sunday at eleven a.m., subject "The Centennial Year." She is at present engaged in lecturing in Phoenix, and will return to Jacksonville today. Next week she goes to Ashland and will begin a course of lectures in that place on Tuesday, the 15th inst. On her return to this city she will give two additional lectures before returning homeward. The last address will be given as a benefit for the M.E. Church. The times for and subjects of these lectures will be announced hereafter.

Democratic Times,
July 11, 1879, page 3

    Mrs. Duniway held forth at the M.E. Church on Sunday last, delivering an interesting lecture upon a theological subject. A fair attendance was noticeable.

"Personal Notes," Democratic Times, July 11, 1879, page 3

    COMING TO LECTURE.--Mrs. Abigail Scott Duniway writes us from Phoenix that she will be in Ashland on Tuesday, the 15th, and begin a course of lectures on the evening of the same day. Her subjects are: First "The Woman Question," second "Constitutional Liberty," third "The Centennial Year." We predict large audiences for Mrs. Duniway, as she is an interesting lecturer, and well known to many of our people.
Ashland Tidings, July 11, 1879, page 3

    A CORRECTION.--An impression is prevalent in the valley that Mrs. Duniway was mobbed simply because she was an advocate of "woman's rights." It is false. This woman was treated with courtesy until she stripped off the mask of a lady and showed her true character as a social scavenger. The orientals believed in a class of females being ghouls, who nightly dug into graves and feast on the putrefying carcasses of human beings. This being is only a ghoul who feasts on [illegible] social scandal, and the course she has commenced here will not be
brooked by any community. The homes of this town were kindly opened to her, but today there are but few doors in Jacksonville that will not be slammed in her face with contempt.
Oregon Sentinel, Jacksonville, July 16, 1879, page 3

    The flying accounts of the egging are exaggerated, and meddlesome people are busy circulating false reports on persons entirely innocent of any participation in it. Our country friends will do well to be quiet until they learn the whole truth.
    It is reported in certain quarters that Rev. D. A. Crowell refused Mrs. Duniway permission to lecture in the M.E. Church. This is a mistake. Neither Mrs. Duniway nor any of her friends ever asked Mr. Crowell for the church. In fact, he is not the custodian of the church building. It is in the power of the trustees, only, to permit the church to be used for any purpose except for divine service. Mrs. Duniway had no authority whatever to enter the church to lecture.
"Local Items,"
Oregon Sentinel, Jacksonville, July 16, 1879, page 3

    ANOTHER SENSATION.--On Saturday last copies of the New Northwest were received here containing an uncalled-for allusion to a family scandal that had almost died out of remembrance. Mrs. Duniway was in town, and the ill-advised allusion was received [illegible] parties referred to stand high in this community. About ten in the evening a dummy dressed in female attire, and labeled "She Devil Duniway, the family libeler," was burned in front of Mrs. Vining's hotel where Mrs. Duniway was stopping, and as the correspondent stepped to the door she received a slight volley of eggs, but retired too quickly to receive all that were in store for her. We deprecate this proceeding which was the work of the juvenile element, who took advantage of a moment of public exasperation, not because the correspondent wears the garb of a woman, but it is not a proper manner of expressing public contempt. The family circle is a sacred thing that no libeler or slanderer can invade with impunity, and although this community is justly indignant the law is competent to punish and should be first invoked. If one of the results of the "woman's" rights movement is the right to take advantage of the difference due the sex and drag dead scandals that the public have no business with to the surface, the pretended reform will soon die of its own nastiness. Mrs. Duniway announces her intention to lecture here again, which is her undoubted right, but the great American privilege of the public to listen or not is equally undeniable. We condemn any kind of outlawry as wrong in principle and earnestly hope that this woman will not be again molested.

Oregon Sentinel,
Jacksonville, July 16, 1879, page 3

Dear readers of the New Northwest:
    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. The work of this hour has broken the back of the opposition to woman's complete emancipation in the county of Jackson. Lots of subscribers are coming in unbidden, and invitations to lecture are crowding upon us from every direction.
    The Fourth is over! Thank Heaven! And now we're ready for sightseeing.
    It is the morning of the fifth, a bright, balmy, beautiful forenoon, and we are off, accompanied by our hospitable friends, the McDonoughs, and good Mrs. Dean, their neighbor, our destination the diggings, two or three miles away, hard by the site of old Fort Lane, where a few logs are yet lying to mark the spot where troops were stationed during the memorable Indian war of '55 and '56. Mr. McDonough discovered this mine about four years ago, the placer gold having lain undiscovered a few inches beneath the surface of the ground, over which hundreds of soldiers had in the years gone by tramped for months, in innocent unconsciousness of the auriferous wealth beneath their feet. Owing to the scarcity of water, the work in these diggings is slow, but with plenty of this element the yield would be simply marvelous. Nuggets weighing hundreds of dollars have been picked up, and many pieces of from five to fifty dollars' weight have been found. The quartz ledge, from whence these outcroppings of the ages have descended, runs in a zigzag course up the mountainside, into which a shaft has been sunk, from which quartz assaying $300 to the ton has been taken. But Mr. McDonough is not wild over gold mining. He takes a common-sense view of the enterprise, and tills his broad fields in their season, and raises blood stock and reads the newspapers, and with his amiable consort, to whose efficient aid the woman movement owes much of its vitality and good standing in this community, enjoys a well-balanced life to the uttermost. It does one's heart good to see such people get rich.
    In the evening we return with Mrs. McDonough to Jacksonville, and on the morrow a genial party, ably engineered by Mr. and Mrs. Plymale, depart for the Sterling mine, prepared to make a day of it. The morning is glorious and the scenery grandly magnificent. A ride of ten miles, up and down the billowy, zigzag vales and hills, and the little village of Sterling comes to sight, and we are soon met by Mr. Ennis, the gentlemanly superintendent of the mine, who, after a bountiful lunch beneath the trees, conducts the party to the hydraulic works, where a head of water, brought in a ditch from Applegate Creek, eighteen miles distant, and conveyed into the mine through a 24-inch pipe, which at the base of the gulch is divided into two branch pipes of fifteen inches in diameter, and from thence into five-inch nozzles, pours a thundering, incessant stream of angry water as a vigorous broadside into the resisting heart of the rock-bound mountain, disemboweling the complaining earth and sending it crashing to the gulch below. Rocks, some of them weighing half a ton, are torn by this double-headed hydraulic monster from the ledge's side, and placed by miners upon dumps, from which they are lifted by a mighty derrick, also worked by hydraulic power, and cast in piles upon the ridge above, Mr. Ennis, the conductor, managing the machine with a tow line a little larger than the band of an old-fashioned spinning wheel. We looked innocently around for his "hollyhock," of which a certain editor had said a good deal in the Sentinel, but were laughingly informed that said "hollyhock" was simply a cataract in the said editor's eye. (This is a "goak.") [sic--"joke"]
    After the hydraulic ram has spent its heaviest power against the mountainside, it gathers its remaining forces at the head of the gulch, whose depth it constantly increases, and forming a roaring, muddy cataract, is collected in sluiceboxes, and goes tearing onward toward the lowlands, leaving behind in the boxes an auriferous deposit sufficiently captivating to tempt the cupidity of even a political missionary.
    We learn that the company, of which ex-Gov. D. P. Thompson, present Mayor of Portland, is president and principal shareholder, has spent a hundred thousand dollars in developing his mine, and when we look at the character of the country over which the ditch has been carried, and note the stability and power of the machinery employed, we consider the estimate reasonable. There are but few men engaged now in the mine, the hydraulic power easily accomplishing the work of many hundred pairs of human hands.
    Several miles further on in the mountains, and we reach the famous placer beds on the lands of the Camerons, which are leased for operation to Gin Lin, an enterprising Chinaman, who is mining with machinery quite equal to that in use at Sterling, and, we believe, with like satisfactory results. Here our party spent a half hour in sightseeing, and then we retrace our steps, viewing as we come down the mountain gorges a magnificent thunderstorm on the adjacent heights, its fresh breezes filling the air with the balmy odors of Araby the blest.
    Now we are on the heights overlooking Jacksonville. What a prospect! The broad valley below, belted with dark green forests, with its trailing robe of amber wheat caught up here and there with festoons of orchard trees, and embroidered at its hem with floral phylacteries; the mountains, adjacent and afar, and away, away, till the eye is pained by the seemingly illimitable distance, the clear-cut crystal top of Diamond Peak [Mount McLoughlin?], beyond which, we know, lies Winnemucca, flanked by the transatlantic railroad, and afar to the northward the dark green mountains that rear their bristling heads between ourself and the dear ones at home.
The New Northwest, Portland, July 17, 1879, page 2

Phoenix, July 11.               
    This Rogue River Valley grows yet more beautiful to behold as the eye grows more and more accustomed to it. With a railroad through to Roseburg from Redding, and a narrow-gauge connecting with the seat at Crescent City, this would become a veritable paradise for tourists in search of the beauties of nature. And then, the agricultural and mineral resources of the country are alike wonderful. No more fertile vales are to be found anywhere than these, where Nature would seem to have exhausted herself in making a soil, from one to nobody knows how many feet in depth, where every production of the earth that is to be found in temperate climes, and many of the fruits of tropical lands, are growing without irrigation and in the open air. The rainfall of this valley, as compared to that of the Willamette, is light and yet it is amply sufficient for agricultural purposes, although a more humid climate would render the abounding gold fields infinitely more productive. We opine that discoveries of gold are yet to be made beside which many of the mines that are now being worked will sink into insignificance. And yet, it is a subject of grave doubt as to whether gold mining pays humanity in the aggregate, no matter what its yield. Had the efforts that have been made in Jackson County for a quarter of a century to burrow into the earth for gold been used for tilling the soil and manufacturing the raw materials of the county into articles of home consumption and for general export, there is little doubt that this beautiful land would be far more prosperous today than it now is. In some sections whole creeks have been burrowed out and their beds turned literally upside town. They do have classic names for some localities, "Louse Creek," and "Tail Holt" being among the euphonious titles which are named in your hearing by polite society, which has become so accustomed to such terms that they no longer convey a ridiculous idea to any but the newly initiated.
    On Sunday evening, after the long ride to Sterling mine, of which we last week wrote you, we met a fair audience, after a pouring rain, the subject, "Everyday Religion," being exceedingly well received by the best element of the city. The newspapers, this week, have been exceedingly respectful to our work, although the Sentinel has not failed to "crib our thunder," and, calling it his own, say that we are unfair or we'd use it ourself. By the way, speaking of newspapers, the Sentinel is a very racy, readable and successful paper. Mr. Turner, the editor, who has hit us hard, and we've hugely enjoyed hitting back to get even, has built it up to a handsome circulation from a very small beginning, and the politicians stand in wholesome awe of him. His estimable wife is a twin sister of Mrs. Judge G. H. Stewart, of Vancouver, who (the latter lady), with her mother, Mrs. Chrisman, of Lafayette, and a younger sister, is at present visiting at his home in Jacksonville. Among the prominent and worthy gentlemen and their excellent families whose acquaintance we have made, and to whom we have been indebted for substantial aid in the prosecution of our labors, are the Danforths, Ryans, Beekmans, Rosses, Plymales, Wrisleys, Constants, and Savages. Mrs. M. H. Vining, formerly of Albany, whose excellent husband met a melancholy fate in the Puget Sound country by drowning, keeps a first-class boardinghouse and honorably supports her seven children, her noble work requiring a heroism as exalted as it is enduring.
    On Tuesday, the 8th, accompanied by Mrs. Plymale in one of their elegant turnouts from her good husband's livery stable, we drove over to Phoenix, our gallant lady pilot proving efficient and successful at her business.
    Phoenix is a charming little country village, chiefly noted as the abiding place of Hon. Sam. Colver and his splendid spouse, with whom we spent several delightful days, and lectured in the evenings to overflowing houses. Here are two grist mills of apparently sufficient capacity to grind the grain of the entire valley. There are two flourishing dry goods stores, one kept by J. R. Reames, Esq., and the other by Mr. Sargent, each of whom subscribed to the People's Paper [i.e., the New Northwest], thereby setting a praiseworthy example for the benefit of the merchants in Jacksonville. There is also a flourishing Good Templars lodge, a church, a schoolhouse, a drug store, a blacksmith shop, etc., and a surrounding country vastly rich in agriculture, fruit and blood stock. Phoenix is about a dozen miles from Jacksonville, and it is thought by many will yet become the county seat.
    Mr. Colver, or Uncle Sam, as he is familiarly called by everybody, is a noted personage, who began his career many years ago as a theological student, but apostatized, and turned his attention to verse-making, lecturing on anti-slavery and woman suffrage, and running an underground railroad. He was once cast into a dungeon for opinion's sake, and has ever been a consistent advocate of the freedom of the press, the tongue and the people. Evil-doers fear him, friends honor him, and enemies are compelled to respect him.
    Our lectures here have been so largely attended and so well received that we have promised to return on Monday, the 14th, on our way to Ashland, and give a fourth address; subject, "The Temperance Reform."
    Tomorrow (Sunday) we are to lecture at Manzanita [the Central Point area], in a free church in the center of a large farming settlement, and in the vicinity of some of the prettiest and most prosperous homes on the Pacific slope.
    On Tuesday, the 15th, our labors begin at Ashland, after which we will give two more lectures in Jacksonville before turning our longing footsteps homeward.
    Later.--It is Saturday, 4 p.m., July 12th, and we've come back to Jacksonville, and behold! there's a mighty tempest in the social and political teapot. The New Northwest of Thursday has just come to hand, containing our letter of the 2nd inst. And Brother Turner, of the Sentinel, whom we've been praising to the skies in the first pages of this letter, is madder than two hornets. Of course he doesn't care for what we said in that letter in retaliation, after he'd attacked us! That's not it, at all! But he is furious to think we've justified an injured lady [Mrs. Prim] by vindicating her in the women's paper. We guess he'll get over it, however. And, as to the Judge, whose champion he has suddenly become, if he can outlive Brother Turner's defense, he needn't fear any further notice at our hands. At this writing, squads of men are holding indignation meetings on the street, hard by the store of a certain brigadier general, and it really looks as though they'd be calling out the militia pretty soon for the express purpose of fighting a lone woman whose offense against them has consisted in simply telling the truth.
    We learn, by couriers who have invaded the enemy's camp and brought us the news, that there is a terrible exhibition of virtuous wrath among the chaste protectors of women because we used the words "for his own convenience" in reference to an act of tardy conjugal justice from a well-known member of the bench. We had to come to Jacksonville to learn that such a remark meant anything immodest or immoral. We know of more than one hundred who, but for his own convenience in keeping his wife as a house servant, without wages, would turn her out on the common to starve, if he could. We pity men whose minds and morals are on so low a plane that we cannot penetrate the epidermis of their understanding with a single ray of the sunlight of truth without stirring up mire and dirt. And the worst of it all is, they are lawmakers, under whose rule licentiousness and drunkenness abound in the land. But it's a good sign to see 'em squirming when they're hit. The Standard [a Portland newspaper published by Anthony Noltner] of the 10th is also at hand, and we see that a certain major of militia, or one of his colleagues, who can't quite hide his earmarks, has been calling us a he-hen, and otherwise classically caricaturing us, as becometh self-constituted "protectors of women." Let 'em write. They'll feel better after their vomit is over. A moral physician don't expect to give humanity a badly needed emetic and see 'em get over it without ejecting putridity by the way of the mouth.
    Still later.-The plot thickens.
"Oh, ye brave!
Who seek for glory or the grave!"
    The "militia's" been out and egged us! And they've burnt us in effigy, the image being a fair likeness of George Washington, so we're told, though we didn't see it; and it wore a white apron with the words "libeler of families" on it in big letters--a fitting name for the cowardly canaille who seek, under cover of darkness, to exhibit their true inwardness. Verily, there's no other form of tyranny that dies so hard as man's rights. Let us be patient with it while it undergoes its death agonies. Only one egg hit us, and that was fresh and sweet, and it took us square on the scalp and saved a shampooing bill. But what a comment on the morals and manners of an incorporated town! A barrel of tartar emetic rolled into Pandemonium couldn't have stirred up a greater degree of foulness than a quarter of a column of simple truth in the New Northwest has awakened in Jacksonville. But, to the credit of the better class of men be it spoken, they were not engaged in the mob at all. It was bearded hoodlums and bad whiskey that did it, incited no doubt by the silly indignation of a certain editor, who has learned to his confusion that some editors can write sharp sayings for their newspapers as well as some others. The good will go on and women will be free. Selah?
The New Northwest, Portland, July 17, 1879, page 2

    In 1875 I was intending to return east, after separating from my wife in San Francisco, when Abigail Scott Duniway, of Portland, Oregon, published in her paper, The New Northwest, that I was a wife-beater, had compelled my wife to take in washing for my support and had finally turned her out of doors, penniless.
    I wrote Mrs. Duniway the facts in the case substantiated by the testimony of T. G. Cocherell, Chief of Police, and asked her to publish them. She refused. I turned about, went back to Oregon and remained there ten years to prove by my life and conduct that she was a liar and slanderer.
    She had borrowed $500 of Mrs. McCaslin, of Salem; neglected to pay it; Mrs. McCaslin died, and at the request of the guardian of the orphan children I brought suit on the note. She paid her lawyers, Caples and Mulkey, large sums of money to fight the case, and when driven to a corner, instructed them to demur to the complaint on the ground that more than six years had elapsed since giving the note. This was true; the debt was outlawed, and I knew it at the start, but I had it placed on record that to defraud the little orphans of money their mother had earned by keeping birds and running a sewing machine, she pleaded the statute of limitations at a time when she owned a nice house and lot in Portland.
    I claim no credit for taking the part of these orphans, because I was influenced more by hatred for the Duniway [sic] than anything else
    While this suit was going on, hoping to prejudice the public against me, she published me as a "fraud and swindler," when I sued her for libel, and made things torrid for her till I left, when of course the case was dismissed, and I learn she was glad to so sell out and leave Oregon.
    The Duniway was born with Scorpio rising. Mercury on the ascendant and near the cusp. For craft, cunning and marvellous executive ability, I have rarely seen her equal. But in judgment and common sense she was greatly deficient. For instance:
    Judge Prim, of Jacksonville, Oregon, a judge of the Supreme Court, refused to subscribe for her paper. Thinking to bulldoze him, and as a warning to others not to refuse, she began such vile, slanderous attacks upon him that it nearly broke the heart of his beautiful daughter, who was the belle of the city. This angered the young men of the place and when next the Duniway came there to lecture, they pelted her with stale eggs, utterly regardless of her sex. I will publish her horoscope and nativity either in the Annual, or Magazine, if we succeed in getting it started.
    I am aware that the mere fact of this reference to the Duniway is an evidence of a vindictive disposition, but as I am working for science, and not to laud mysef, I could not conscientiously suppress it.
W. H. Chaney, Chaney's Primer of Astrology and American Urania, Magic Circle Publishing, St. Louis, Missouri, 1890, pages 140-142

    From the tenor of our Southern Oregon exchanges, it would seem that Mrs. Duniway and her lectures are the principal theme of thought and comment in the Rogue River Valley. The editor of the Jacksonville Sentinel devotes a column of his issue of the 9th inst. to what would seem to those who are unacquainted with the lady's teachings to be a very fair and candid criticism of her labors, but those who have read her writings and attended her lectures cannot be made to believe that she has suddenly changed her tactics, and, from proving that woman's influence is all potent for either good or evil, has gone to "asserting that her sex is weak and powerless." Neither can the thousands of women who have winced under the scathing power of her criticism of her sex's shortcomings believe the Sentinel to be honest in its assertion that "it suits her to make the sterner sex shoulder all the sins of omission and commission." The Sentinel but quotes Mrs. Duniway's own sentiments, and almost her exact language, when it says, in a connection which the reader is expected to interpret as the editor's idea, and as the very opposite of her own teachings, that "reform, to be lasting, must be gradual, and life bears burdens that no legislation may lighten; society itself inflicts wrongs that only the slow growth of a pure and sound sentiment can redress."
    It is well for this reform that it no longer fears the ridicule or misrepresentation of the press. Newspapers like the New Northwest are now circulated everywhere in advocacy of the truths the lecturers are teaching, thereby compelling the opposition press to treat every measure that carries real merit with a certain degree of respectful consideration, even if accompanied by foxy unfairness. The Jacksonville papers, which, during the first week of Mrs. Duniway's labors in the strongholds of masculine supremacy, either characterized her mission as hopeless, or tried to treat the whole subject as a burlesque, are now saying, by way of easing their somersault, "Let us try partial suffrage--the right to vote on all educational and moral questions, the right to say whether saloons should be opened on Sunday, or opened at all--and we doubt not that the experiment would be successful."
    Mrs. Duniway, in her most "extravagantly Utopian theories" (again we quote the Sentinel), has never demanded more than this. All matters of public interest properly belong under the head of "moral questions," and it is a tacit admission of the great need of her mission when an editor inadvertently admits that he considers the masculine policies in which he is engaged as immoral. We think he has failed to attend upon Mrs. Duniway's lectures closely who thinks it necessary to assert in his paper that "she might have told us of many a Cleopatra, who, with a wave of her jeweled finger, ruled all the nations of the earth through a weak and doting Antony." Those who have paid sufficient heed to Mrs. D.'s teachings to be able to fairly criticize them cannot but be aware that she lays much stress upon this very fact--that the United States is ruled today by "Cleopatras with jeweled fingers through weak and doting Antonys," and that this is just what is ruining the country. The advocates of woman suffrage realize that there is but one possible way of dethroning the Cleopatras of American politics, and that way is through the ballots of the wives and mothers of these same "weak and doting Antonys" who are now "ruled" by the unlawful "love" of designing and unscrupulous women; men who leave their wives at home while they go unprotected to the capitol of state or nation, to fall easy and willing victims to the charms of the Aspasias and Cleopatras who wield a usurped scepter that belongs of right to the lawful mothers of the politicians' legitimate children.
    A great step is gained when an editor in a remote county where the woman movement is not yet two weeks old feels the cause to be sufficiently bolstered up by public opinion to be compelled to say: "Let us be fair to Mrs. Duniway, and listen to her as gentlemen. If we are afraid she will say something unpalatable, then there is something wrong. If we are, as we claim to be, gentlemen, then we need not fear to face a woman."
    The outlook is encouraging for Southern Oregon. Let the wives of men take courage, and the mothers of the land rejoice.

The New Northwest,
Portland, July 17, 1879, page 2

A Contemptible Affair.
    The indignation of the people has been aroused to its highest pitch by the appearance in the New Northwest of a slanderous article reflecting in a most unjust and uncalled-for manner upon one of our foremost citizens. And this resentment has been heightened, if that were possible, by the abandoned manner in which the sanctity of the family circle has been invaded and matters that were buried and forgotten in the long ago have been revived for the sinister purpose of venting malignant spite upon one who enjoys the high esteem of all for the simple and only reason that he has chosen to differ with the author of this contemptible article. We are amazed that one professing to be laboring for the best interests of woman and claiming the attention of the intelligent masses should thus debase the columns of a newspaper under her control. If these are teachings of woman suffrage it should be prohibited by statute. Mrs. Duniway has by this fell stroke done more injury to herself and her cause here than years can repair. The people can have patience with none who would so ruthlessly violate the holiest laws of the land. We are not surprised that public execration should be unbounded, for it cannot be amiss.
Democratic Times, July 18, 1879, page 2

    LECTURES.--Mrs. Abigail Scott Duniway will lecture at the courthouse this evening at 8 o'clock p.m., choosing as her subject "The Centennial Year." On Sunday next she will be at Foots Creek. Returning, she will deliver her last lecture in this place on the Monday following--subject: "A Week in Salt Lake City." Her further appointments are Rock Point July 22nd; Grants Pass, July 23rd; [illegible] July 25th; Canyonville, July 26th, and Myrtle Creek, July 28th.

Democratic Times, July 18, 1879, page 3

    Mrs. Duniway lectured at the Manzanita Church on Sunday last.
"Brief Reference,"
Democratic Times, July 18, 1879, page 3

    BURNT IN EFFIGY.--Mrs. Duniway was burnt in effigy on the streets of Jacksonville on the night following the advent of the New Northwest containing her correspondence from this place, and which reflected in a shameful and unjust manner on at least one of our citizens. The offense is deserving of the severest condemnation, but we doubt very much whether this was an appropriate way of expressing it.

Democratic Times, July 18, 1879, page 3

    "DAVID AND ANNA MATSON."--We are indebted to Mrs. Duniway for a copy of her beautiful little book of poetry of this title. It is handsomely bound and beautifully illustrated, is published by S. R. Wells & Co., of New York, and has passed through two editions, thus establishing its acceptance to the public. It may be had upon application to Mrs. Duniway, price $2.50.

Ashland Tidings, July 18, 1879, page 3

    MRS. DUNIWAY IN ASHLAND.--Mrs. A. S. Duniway lectured in the academy building in this place on Tuesday evening to a large audience. After devoting about half an hour to the relation of her experiences in Jacksonville, the speaker narrated how she was led to make of herself an editor and a public speaker, weaving in with the narrative striking life pictures illustrative of the points she wished to make for her cause. Mrs. Duniway is a fluent and interesting speaker, and is thoroughly posted upon the subject of "woman's rights" in all its bearings. On Wednesday evening she lectured upon "Constitutional Liberty," but we were unable to be present, and consequently can give no report on it. Last evening she lectured here again and this evening she will lecture in Jacksonville.

Ashland Tidings,
July 18, 1879, page 3

Mrs. Duniway at Phoenix.
    Mrs. Duniway has Phoenix on her side, as the following report of her lecture at that place will show. We trust that war will not be formally opened between Phoenix and Jacksonville.
Editor Tidings:--
    The citizens of Jackson County, to the number of three hundred, assembled last evening at the hall in Phoenix to listen to Mrs. Duniway's lecture upon the "Temperance Problem." The occasion was one of intense interest and the audience listened as though spellbound for over an hour and a half to a logical and original dissertation upon the lady's idea of the correct manner of solving the problem of temperance and extracting the evils of drunkenness by the root. Your readers are doubtless aware that Mrs. Duniway was mobbed in Jacksonville by a crowd of bearded and beardless hoodlums, who burned her in effigy and pelted her with eggs. At the close of her address here last night the following resolutions were offered by the undersigned and unanimously adopted by a rising vote:

    Whereas, Liberty of speech and of the press is guaranteed to all by the Constitution, parties being rightly held amenable to the courts for any abuse of the same; and all citizens should guard these rights with jealous care; and,
    Whereas, The action of the rabble of Jacksonville toward Mrs. Duniway, on the evening of Saturday, July 12th, deserves the severest condemnation of the good people in all civilized communities; therefore, be it
    Resolved, That we, as citizens of Jackson County, are unwilling to bear the justly deserved odium of the hoodlums of Jacksonville, incited to acts of violence against a woman by a set of soulless ingrates, who by their cowardly acts disgrace the mothers who bore them.
    Resolved, That such acts are a burning shame upon any community, and deserve the universal execration of all lovers of virtue and liberty.
Samuel Colver,
Chairman Committee
Phoenix, July 15, 1879.
Ashland Tidings, July 18, 1879, page 3

    The people at Phoenix have taken Mrs. Duniway's side of the trouble in Southern Oregon, as have also the better portion of those in Jacksonville. Mr. Samuel Colver, in a letter from Phoenix to the Ashland Tidings, gave a good account of her lectures in that place, and after fitly condemning the fact that "Mrs. Duniway was mobbed in Jacksonville by a crowd of bearded and beardless hoodlums," furnished that journal with the following resolutions, which were unanimously adopted by a rising vote at the conclusion of Mrs. Duniway's lecture on "The Temperance Problem":
    Whereas, Liberty of speech and of the press is guaranteed to all by the Constitution, parties being rightly held amenable to the courts for any abuse of the same; and all citizens should guard these rights with jealous care; and,
    Whereas, The action of the rabble of Jacksonville toward Mrs. Duniway, on the evening of Saturday, July 12th, deserves the severest condemnation of the good people in all civilized communities; therefore, be it
    Resolved, That we, as citizens of Jackson County, are unwilling to bear the justly deserved odium of the hoodlums of Jacksonville, incited to acts of violence against a woman by a set of soulless ingrates, who by their cowardly acts disgrace the mothers who bore them.
    Resolved, That such acts are a burning shame upon any community, and deserve the universal execration of all lovers of virtue and liberty.

    It is encouraging indeed to find good and true friends in the midst of such opposition as was met in Southern Oregon.
"And ever right comes uppermost,
And ever is justice done."
The New Northwest, Portland, July 24, 1879, page 2

Phoenix, July 18, 1879.               
Dear readers of the New Northwest:
    The last jottings we remember of chronicling for your perusal come back to us at this writing accompanied by a vision of eggs and effigies. Taking up the thread of the narrative where we that evening dropped it, we begin again the pleasant task of descriptive correspondence, an occupation rendered all the more enjoyable because of the exciting facts we have in store for your perusal.
    Sunday morning, the 13th inst., dawned brightly, and discovered a quiet atmosphere and equally quiet street in Jacksonville, the latter disfigured by the remains of the picture of George Washington in woman's garb, which had been burned in front of Mrs. Vining's hotel the night before as a feeble effigy of our humble self.
    At nine o'clock one of friend Plymale's buggies came for us, and a span of spirited horses, held well in hand by Master Willie Plymale, carried us over the beautiful country to Manzanita, eight miles distant from the scene of the riot, and here we met a splendid audience in the pleasant church among the spreading oaks, and for over two hours the good people listened with the deepest interest to the gospel of human liberty.
    In this neighborhood there are some of the handsomest and thriftiest farms we have ever seen, even in this preeminently beautiful country. The families of General Ross, Mr. Wrisley, Mr. Constant and Mrs. Merriman are among the wealthiest landowners whose acquaintance we have made, their elegant farms being well stocked, containing many acres of well-tilled soil, and large and exceedingly thrifty orchards.
    After a bountiful dinner and an hour's rest at good Mrs. Merriman's, Mr. James Curry and family, accompanied by Hon. Sam. Colver, drove by in a carriage and took us over to "Sticky"--another euphonious title--to the beautifully located farm of the former gentleman, where we tarried for the night, Uncle Sam departing for Phoenix on horseback to arouse the people there, as we had done at Manzanita, by giving an account of the mob in Jacksonville, and reading the letter in the New Northwest that had fired the heart of the editor of the Sentinel until he had gone stark crazy. In our simplicity of soul we had imagined that he would take our innocent satire on his lack of "brains" as a capital joke, but the sequel proved that we had hit him harder than he could bear. Before we had made him crazy by a joke, we had not dreamed that he was witless enough to be brained by a lady's pencil, but the deed is done, and we're awful sorry! (This is said to let our irate brother down easy. We don't mean a word of it, only as a joke.) The pretext that we have "slandered Judge Prim's family" is just as false as everything else he has tried to say about our uttered sentiments since our work in Jackson County began. We only exonerated and vindicated an injured woman, though it doubtless caused her untold agony for the moment, but her agony is intensified a thousandfold by the thugs of Jacksonville, who, in seeking to justify her husband in a deed which it is the sheerest nonsense to say had been forgotten, continually irritated the wound that otherwise would heal without further pain. We did but an act of justice, and were it to do over again, we would do no less. But it does go awful hard with man's rights when the time comes for its long abuse of usurped absolute power to receive its death blow. Indeed, it is kicking around awfully in its agonies, but its die is cast.
    On Monday evening, after we had spent a quiet day in the happy home of Mrs. Curry, at Sticky, we all went in their carriage over to Phoenix, where, after a rousing meeting (of which account is given in the Ashland Tidings, and notice elsewhere in the columns of the People's Paper), we spent the night in the home of the Colvers, whose hearts are as big as their house, and that's saying a good deal for both house and hearts.
    On Tuesday, accompanied by "Uncle Sam," the indomitable and irrepressible champion of liberty, whom all knaves are afraid of, we went on to Ashland, our way leading through a fertile valley of yet more radiant loveliness than any we had seen hitherto. The landscapes, that are in many places wild to intense ruggedness, now soften into billowy undulations, and, as we approach very near the beautiful city of peace, the verdant vale narrows into a cove-like "cuddy," and on the hills and at their feet the little city nestles, like a brooding dove in her content and loveliness. Flower gardens and fruit trees, handsome homes and sloping lawns abound, and clear, trickling water courses through pebbled ditches, with a merry, rippling melody, suggestive of continued human happiness.
    The man's rights element of Jacksonville had sent out prominent emissaries to forestall our mission, and so the Methodist Church, which had been promised for the lectures, was not only closed against us, but a religious (?) meeting was begun in it, for the purpose of protecting the pastor's idea of God from the logic of the women. The zealous trustees, who volunteered to stand between Jehovah and danger, next tried to prevail upon Mr. W. Myer (whose honored father, now in the Willamette Valley on business, had written him to place the Academy at our service, if we should need it) to disobey both father and mother by refusing us opportunity for a hearing. But the brave young gentleman proved incorruptible, and the Academy bell rang on time, keeping almost everybody away from the church, and bringing out a very large audience, which increased every evening, notwithstanding the feeble efforts to oppose our mission by the misguided brethren, of whom we could truly say, in the language of humanity's great Exemplar, "Father, forgive them; they know not what they do."

Ashland House hotel, circa 1880, J. W. Riggs
The Ashland House hotel, circa 1880.
    The Ashland House, where we found comfortable accommodations and excellent food, is kept by Mr. and Mrs. Houck, who made our sojourn at their hotel decidedly pleasant. The well-known mercantile firm of McCall & Baum have a commodious and handsome brick store, where they do an immense business, their trade ranging from darning needles to Haines' harvesters, and from chewing gum to tons after tons of staple dry goods and groceries. We had not time to visit the woolen mills, though the neat, painted buildings looked invitingly at us from their location under the hill, but we called at the office of the "Ashland grist mills," which were established here in '54, and which have grown from a small beginning to a mammoth enterprise. There are a number of small dry goods and grocery stores, a drug store, a hardware emporium, a milliner's store, a splendid saddlery and harness shop (kept by Mr. Klum), a jeweler's corner, a boot and shoe shop, etc., but not a single groggery or house of ill repute. The contrast between the reception we have met from the prominent gentlemen of Ashland, as compared to that accorded to us by the ringleading, whiskey-pandering element in Jacksonville, that thinks it owns the city, is just what we might expect from the different moral elements of the two places. Jacksonville is ruled by lies and rum, Ashland by truth and soberness. The Ashland Tidings is a very creditable weekly paper, of which Mr. Leeds is the present editor. There is a large liberal element both here and at Phoenix, and the morals of these towns speak significantly well in favor of free religion. If we wanted to settle in an inland town, we know of none where there are greater promises for the future than in Ashland. The decent citizens of Jacksonville are anxious to get away from their modern Sodom and settle here, where they can send their children to school without fear of their being decoyed into wickedness by a riot-producing mob.
    Our last lecture was finished in Ashland, and, amid the enthusiastic goodbyes of scores of excellent Christian ladies, we took our departure this (Friday) morning for Phoenix, where we have spent the day at dear Mrs. Colver's in needed rest, and are now ready to take our departure for the city of the Philistines, where we are appointed to speak tonight, and thereby beard the Jacksonville mob in its den. You shall hear more anon.
The New Northwest, Portland, July 24, 1879, page 2

Jacksonville, July 19.                    
    Dear reader, we know you are anxious to hear the result, so this morning (Saturday) at five o'clock we are awake and ready to try, though we know we cannot do the subject justice.
    At good Mrs. Vining's hospitable boardinghouse we were warmly welcomed, the brave woman being all undaunted by the threatening man's rights mob, which was waiting for the coming darkness to begin its raid. But we declined to risk exposing her home to the violence of the rabble by remaining in it, and, gathering up our baggage, we entered the carriage, accompanied by Mr. Colver and Mr. Casto, from Phoenix, and drove through the crowded street and howling rabble to the home of Mr. and Mrs. Plymale, who, like all the other respectable citizens of Jacksonville, were afraid to venture out after nightfall, for fear of the mob and the eggs. Here our baggage was considered safe, and we left it till after the lecture, which was given in the courthouse, the gentlemanly sheriff, Mr. Bybee, having, at the risk of his life, lighted it up for our use. But, so far as we know, not one resident of Jacksonville dared to attend the meeting. They bowed before the press and the mob like reeds, so thoroughly intimidated that, but for the presence of about fifty brave persons from the country, of whom a dozen or so were ladies, we should have had nobody for audience except the county sheriff.
    The lecture over, we explained that we scorned to remain overnight as a guest in a city that dared not protect a truth-telling missionary of human rights from a howling mob. We would spend the night in the country among the good people who could not be overruled by prostitutes, man's rights and whiskey.
    McPherson, who is to be editor of the Sentinel for the next month, attempted to defend the citizens of Jacksonville, but the effort was too thin. Actions speak louder than words. If the good people, and there are many in the town, were brave enough to deserve commendation, they would not yield to the success of a riot without protest.
    But we were not disturbed except by yells and threats, as, after the lecture, the country carriages drove through the principal streets, on the way to Mrs. Wright's pleasant home, five miles from the corporation, where we have spent the night in sweet serenity, enjoying the sleep of the righteous. Today (Saturday) we go to Willow Springs, and from thence tomorrow to Foots Creek, from which place you shall hear from us again.
    The mail is going, and we must stop.
The New Northwest, Portland, July 24, 1879, page 2

    The people of this remote district are surprised and shocked by hearing of an evidence of the refinement (?) and intelligence (?) of Jacksonville society, that rather eclipses anything of the kind ever heard of in this part of the country. You have often heard the adage, "The pen is mightier than the sword," but Jacksonville is the first to match eggs against brains. Notwithstanding we deprecate the practice of airing unpleasant family histories for public reading, we have not heard that anyone has attempted to deny the truth of what Mrs. Duniway has written in regard to a member of the bench.
    It is a notable fact that the mob did not attack Mrs. D. during her lectures, but made the assault at the house of a defenseless woman. One would naturally suppose the honorable (?) people of the city would take some steps to have the disturbers of the peace punished. Had a crowd of our Butte Creekers been guilty of such an outrage, the penitentiary would scarcely be too great punishment. But it makes all the difference in the world (to the just Judge) whose ox is gored.
    The presence of Mrs. D. in this county has brought to the surface so many more friends of the cause she advocates than her best friends anticipated, that we feel quite jubilant, even though none of them appear willing to fight for her, especially with Jacksonville weapons. We consider the weapons emblematic of the cause they are used to defend, which must be rotten indeed when such means of defense must be resorted to. Doubtless the advocates of the "aristocracy of sex" call such conduct argument.
LAW AND ORDER.                    
Butte Creek, Oregon, July 26, 1879.                     
The New Northwest, Portland, July 24, 1879, page 2

Willow Springs, July 21, 1879.               
Dear readers of the New Northwest:
    As we are well aware of the excitement and indignation of the thousands of friends of human rights who are gaining new strength and zeal in the prosecution of our work because they see more and more the need of another and better element in the lawmaking power of the land to hold in check the lawless classes who are now in possession of the balance of power everywhere, and who, through this power, virtually tie the hands of the best and most honorable men whenever they are so inclined, thereby placing the sacred liberties of the people, for which our fathers fought and died, in constant jeopardy, and, as we know these thousands of friends to our sacred cause are waiting anxiously to hear further news from the political missionary who has been compelled to become the Arnold Winkelried of the new dispensation in Jacksonville, we this morning, Monday, the 21st of July, awake with the dawn, and regarding you, our friends and readers, with far more consideration than another badly needed nap for our humble self, we sharpen our pencil and proceed to business.
    On Saturday morning we stopped over in daylight in the city of the Philistines, where a woman who preaches morality and human rights is in danger of losing her life at the hands of a mob after nightfall, though she is perfectly safe from molestation when the sun shines, and lo! and there wasn't a man of any claim to respectability who wasn't ready to swear that he was the very fellow who had been our staunch friend all along! Very well, let 'em think so, but we wish we hadn't made our appointments to lecture in other places in such a way before the riot that we cannot now stop to test their woman-protecting bravery. On Friday night, only a few hours before, we well remember seeing brazen prostitutes standing unmolested among the lawmakers on the street, while we were being conveyed away to the country for personal safety in the closed carriage of Mrs. Wright, one of the good Methodist sisters, who, with Mrs. Plymale, had opened the church for our lectures, but had at last had it locked in their faces by the pastor, who, as usual in such cases, had taken sides with the prostitutes and their associates, who, under the stop-thief cry of their class, had risen en masse to mob a woman who had dared to say in public, in answer to the "free love filth" with which they had sought to beslime her, "Both the fallen women and the fallen voters who support them know as well as I that just so soon as the wives and mothers of men in Jacksonville shall have the power of the ballot to aid them, they will make and enforce such statutes as shall banish drunkenness and prostitution from your city limits, and drive them in confusion to the abode of owls and bats." We can't see the utility of the "protection and esteem" of such lawmakers as desert their post when the sun goes down, and who compel their dear good wives and mothers to remain away from lectures they have been long planning to hear, for fear the rabble will pelt them with eggs. Where these virtuous daylight friends come out over their own signatures in the county papers, and declare themselves on the side of law and order, and determined to maintain it, we'll be a little more ready to accept their apologies and explanations. Anybody can be a sunshine friend. But we're not done with Jacksonville. We're going back there today to defy our defamers, and, if possible, shame them into decency. You shall know how we have succeeded.
    On Saturday we came out to Willow Springs, to the houses of our staunch friends the McDonoughs, and on Sunday, having previously engaged the best livery turnout from friend Plymale's well-stocked stable in Jacksonville, we started, with Mr. and Mrs. Plymale and Mrs. McDonough, to Foots Creek, where we were appointed to lecture at one p.m. Our road lay along the foot of the mountains, and, after a three or four hours' drive, led us up into the very heart of an old mining camp, yet vastly rich in the golden ore, but the diggings are now dry, and mining has ceased, and the good country people are turning their attention to farming, home-making and stock-raising. At the beautiful farmer's home of Mr. and Mrs. Lance we were all hospitably entertained, and after a sumptuous dinner we repaired to the school house a mile or two further up the little valley that lies between the Delectable Mountains.
    We had no idea that there were so many people here. They were thicker than July blackberries, and they kept coming after the lecture began till we had to pause frequently till new benches could be improvised, and then everybody couldn't get seats. Our speech continued for over two and a half hours, and when, at last, we bade the friends goodbye, it was difficult to leave them. But we promised to go back sometime.
    On our return to Willow Springs we came by another route, through a lovely, verdant and fertile valley, past innumerable gold fields, yet fabulously rich in ore, where the diggings have so long been dry, owing to the scarcity of the rainfall, that many places that have been burrowed out and turned over in bygone years are now overgrown with trees and briars, as though Nature were ashamed of the nudity to which the avarice of her children had wickedly subjected her.
    It is almost night when we reach Mrs. McDonough's pleasant home, and here we dismiss our team and retire to rest at an early hour, as calm and carefree and happy as a weary and sleepy child.
    But, as we told you in the beginning, it is Monday now, and we are again off for Jacksonville. Kind friends, everywhere, do not worry. There is a higher Power than men or mobs that overrules this woman movement.
The New Northwest, Portland, July 31, 1879, page 2

Willow Springs, July 22.               
    Again, as we are well aware that anxious friends by thousands are awaiting a truthful version of the closing scenes of our sojourn in Jacksonville, we hurriedly seize our oft-offending, though truth-telling, pencil to portray facts as they have occurred during the interim since last we wrote you.
    On Monday, the 21st, we returned to the city of the Philistines as we had promised, though we were careful to enter and depart during daylight, as the "militia" and other protectors of women with whom we have had to deal in that modern Sodom are of the kind that are only to be feared in the darkness.
    At Mrs. Vining's we again found hospitable welcome, and, after a quiet, social dinner with Mrs. Kenney, Mrs. McDonough and Mrs. Plymale at Mrs. V.'s well-filled board, we scribbled an open letter to the men of Jacksonville, which, after a little elimination, the editors of the Times and the Sentinel agreed to publish, the former in his issue of the 24th, and the latter, whose paper was already full for this week, on his next publication day. We found our brethren of the press disposed to be affable, though they are not yet sufficiently over the licentious craze of a few of their evil-minded, loud-mouthed patrons to fairly distinguish virtue from vice, and so they still persist in saying that we have scandalized a lady by declaring her to have been unjustly attainted with masculine oppression and slander. "You ought to have permitted her and her children to bear the stain forever, because it was no longer the subject of street talk, and the judge's wife had got used to it," is the substance of their so-called logic. A man who is either so blind that he cannot, or so perverse that he will not, see the sacred principle involved in the facts we have published, and who has tried mob law to check the progress of free speech, free press and free women, is a thousand times wiser in his own conceit than seven women who can render a reason. You may "bray a fool seven times in a mortar," says Solomon, "and yet his folly will not depart from him."
    We refrain from publishing the unwise attempt of a certain young man to defend the injustice of his father at the expense of his mother's character, for the boy will be deeply enough ashamed of it after he has come out from among his mother's defamers and learned a little wisdom. It is not natural for a son to assist in defending a rabble in its indignation against a lady who has dared, in the face of long-established masculine opinion to the contrary, to declare that his mother is innocent of a crime. The youth, the inexperience, and the bad example that surround the boy are generously brought forward in his defense. Let us cover his mistake with the mantle of charity.
    We have another matter to tell you of, good reader, and it concerns the infamous conduct of the brigadier general of the Oregon militia, but eminent counsel advises us to wait till the matter has first been ventilated in a court at law. Even could we bring our pencil low enough to make it write them, we could not put the common street expressions of this chief of the home guards about us and to us upon paper without danger of being indicted for sending obscene matter through the United States mails.
    In the afternoon of Monday we made an address on the street, right in the midst of the crowd where we had been threatened with eggs and publicly howled at on the Friday before, and there was the most respectful silence and attention while we spoke. We defended the boys who had been accused of instigating the riot. We charged the whole cause of the disturbance upon older heads--voters and lawmakers--and we here predict that the sequel will prove it. The boys are not to blame. It was bearded and beardless hoodlums, and bad whiskey and voters and lawmakers that did it.
    But, after all, it's fun to see how we have scared the politicians. Quite a number of the bedrock Democrats think we have come out here under the patronage of the Republican Party, for the purpose of laying wires in the interest of some candidate or other for the United States Senate. Others say we are surreptitiously working for the success of the greenback or independent movement, and still others that we are in the interest of the dominant wing of the Oregon Democracy. But, no matter which horn of the dilemma they accept, they seize hold of it like drowning men catching at straws. The editor of the Sentinel hurls ruin in the path of Judge Prim, by pretending to be angry because we have told the truth, and a hundred Democratic voters who read the Sentinel have failed to see the point till they have fallen in the trap. The Independents and the Democrats of the Thayer school are also jealous of the man's rights judge, and they are a unit with the Republicans in secretly exciting the bedrock ring to go ahead and spoil the future chances of the judge. But he is wiser in one sense than them all.
    Years ago, when the Republicans joined with the Democrats in an organized warfare against the woman movement, we successfully silenced their "free love" cry by publishing a partly hidden chapter of gossip concerning the domestic history of the President of the United States. The outcry for a while was almost equal to this one, but the President had sense enough to say, when his attention was called to it: "The woman tells the truth. And she is right. If our wives and mothers had all along been equal with men before the law, such things would not have been." It was not to degrade the President, but to establish a principle, that we applied the hair of the political cur of politics to the venomous bite of the rabid quadruped. The application was incisive, but the cure was certain. But when will scurvy politicians learn that the influence of women who dare to strike for liberty because it is their rightful heritage is not, like theirs, for sale?
    We've got away with Jacksonville. We've defied its eggs, its whiskey, and its thugs. We've left every intelligent woman sorrowing because she did not dare, for fear of her protectors, to attend our closing lecture. But we're coming back again, good ladies. The earthquake has come among your lawmakers, and it has come to stay. Its eruptions will henceforth be periodical. The rotten eggs with which your protectors were prepared to pelt you if you ventured out that night will be consumed before this time next year with the glowing fires of law and liberty. We thank God and take courage.
The New Northwest, Portland, July 31, 1879, page 2

    That promised open letter from Mrs. Duniway to the men of Jacksonville, which was to have been published in the Times and the Sentinel long before this, has not yet appeared. Can it be possible that Messrs. Nickell and Krause, the responsible editors of these journals, consider themselves sufficient masters of the situation when the lady is absent, to stultify themselves by going back on their sacred promise? Will they compel the lady to publish the letter, without the eliminations, in every respectful paper in the country, and sue them for defamation of character in the bargain?
The New Northwest, Portland, August 7, 1879, page 2

Dear Readers of the New Northwest:
We remember spending the next Monday night after leaving Jacksonville with the excellent family of Mrs. Dean, of Willow Springs, from whose hospitable home a party of us were taken in a hack on Tuesday morning to a noted mining camp, where we were shown over the auriferous grounds by Mr. Beck, the gentlemanly owner of one of the richest gold-bearing gardens in Jackson County. The diggings are dry now, and further operations have ceased for the summer, though all of the necessary arrangements for mining remain upon the grounds. We listened with much interest to the proprietor's graphic and well-illustrated description of the various methods of securing the ore. There were rockers, sluice-boxes, flumes, ripple-boxes, dippers, sieves, and whatnot, the half of which we cannot remember or describe.
    For a number of acres the earth has been burrowed out, turned over and thoroughly washed, leaving the surface all scarred and corrugated, as though a cancer had been gnawing at its vitals, and had left it spent and desolate at last, because it could no longer find food to its liking upon which to forage. Mr. Beck, a thorough gentleman, whose only fault is protracted single blessedness, located this claim a dozen years ago, and has added to it from time to time by purchase, until he now has paying ground enough to keep a half-dozen men at work for a lifetime. But, like most successful men, he is not carried away with his good fortune, and he takes life philosophically, as a sensible and prosperous gentleman should. There is also a very rich quartz mine on the Dean ranch, a mile or two above Mr. Beck's, but we did not have time to visit it, although the camp where the miners were at work was plainly visible from the post office, where we all waited for half an hour for the arrival of the stagecoach, the view we enjoyed from the front door the while being passing beautiful. Mt. McLoughlin, looking for all the world like a mammoth muskmelon, with the gaps between its corrugated ridges filled with snowy lines of melting loaf sugar, loomed high above the hill-encircled valley, that, like a huge table laden with fruits and cereals, smiled placidly in the face of the bending sky, while Flora, Ceres and Pomona swayed their magic scepters everywhere. Gorgeous Summer, resplendent in her trailing robes of ripened wheat, had seated herself at her harvest feast, and sated Plenty reveled in the very height of her glory. But yonder comes the stage, and we must atop these reveries for the nonce, while we climb to the dusty boot, and, hooked by our tightly clasping digits to the iron rods that fairly scorched them in the blistering heat, go crashing down the road.
    Eight miles and Rock Point, where we enter the one hotel and seek a room to rest for an hour, and then sally forth to reconnoiter. The little burg is fast asleep, though it is midday. The few people here seem to neither think nor act--that is, if we except the landlady and the stage men and their wives, who deserve commendation for the courtesy and kindness with which they treated us, and without which we should have simply counted the time in disgusted discontent during every waking minute of the next twenty-four hours. For some reason, which we leave the reader to conjecture, the bills sent from Jacksonville announcing the lecture had not been received or posted. The man who had charge of the schoolhouse didn't appear upon the scene, and but for the aforesaid stage men, who used the coach candles to light the schoolroom, and the advent of a large hackload of young gentlemen and ladies from Willow Springs, the lecture would have been an entire failure. But, with these efficient aids, we captured the fort and held it. And the next time we stop over at Rock Point somebody besides the landlady and the transportation people of the otherwise dead asleep little hamlet will know it. There are men here pretending to do business as merchants who would think you were telling a Woman Suffrage lie if you should inform them that Andrew Jackson was dead. Of course such men are furious for the revival of the "lost cause," and, having no colored slaves to subjugate, they insist upon the further subjugation of the women.
    We are much relieved when the friendly stagecoach takes us aboard on Wednesday at twelve M. [noon], and, with our face turned northward, we go crashing on toward Roseburg, every turn of the revolving wheels hurrying us further away from the thugs of Jacksonville--thank God--and bringing us that much nearer heaven.
    Three o'clock and Grants Pass. Now we are among reading and thinking people, and, of course, among friends. The hotel here is kept by Mr. and Mrs. Dimick, who also have charge of the store and post office. Here we rest till half-past eight, and then meet a goodly audience in the schoolhouse, who listen gladly to the gospel of liberty. We have long had several subscribers to the People's Paper here, and wherever the people read and think, and abjure whiskey and lewdness, our mission is always welcomed.
    After the lecture the friends gathered for an hour at the hotel, where we held a delightful social reunion with both young and old, and we would gladly have accepted their half-dozen invitations to hold meetings at other places had our other numerous engagements permitted. Mr. Dimick is building a large hotel, Mr. Campbell has a flourishing carpenter's shop, there are several families living near, and the various industries necessary to form the nucleus of an inland town in the midst of a fine farming region are in process of inception.
    People came from six to a dozen miles to attend the meeting, and this, too, in the midst of harvest and in the heat of midsummer. The nest day at three P.M. we embarked for Levens' Station, thirty miles distant from Grants Pass, and, after a breakneck ride of four and a half hours, alighted at the hotel, where an eager audience awaited us. Tired, bruised and travel-worn as we were, we soon met the friends of human liberty in the hall above the store, where we addressed them for an hour and a half, and when, at a late hour, we disposed of our weary bones and aching head upon one of Mrs. Levens' sumptuous beds, we dreamed that all the eggs in Jacksonville had been hatched into full-fledged sage hens, that were driving such lawmakers as dealt in slander and rottenness into the open fields, making them scatter the filthy garbage broadcast. Then, after a while, it seemed that golden fruitage crowned the labors of the sage hens, until in all the beautiful land there was no more room for the offensive debris that had erewhile filled the minds of men with evil thoughts and loathsome deeds.
    This, the Levens ranch at Galesville, was one of the most noted stopping places for travelers in this region during the palmy days of the Southern Oregon gold mines. The hotel, which is a large log building, covered outside with weatherboards and paint, and lined inside with ceiling and cloth and paper, was riddled in many places with bullets during the Indian war. More than one fortune has been made with this hotel and farm, and many others are yet to be made right here. But we must not linger here, inviting as is the prospect, for yonder comes the stage, and we are off for Canyonville, some fifteen miles away. They do have long miles in this wild country, presumably because its surface is so hilly that it takes a great deal of measuring to span the distances, and they count the leagues by air lines.
    The coach is crowded, but we are fortunate enough to secure an outside seat. Several passengers climb to the extreme top rather than go inside, and there they perch till we reach Canyonville. though they are sometimes in imminent danger of losing their heads by contact with the intersecting telegraph wires, which occasionally hang alarmingly low over the great highway.
    Now we are on the Canyonville toll road, a ten-mile thoroughfare, constructed with infinite labor and expense through mighty mountain gorges, where for long distances the way is barely wide enough for the prancing team, which goes tearing ahead in the darkness, the stagecoach candles sending forth a glare of cheery light for a little distance, beyond which the gloom is rendered all the denser by the contrast. You cannot see the leaders' heads, which at every turn (and there are many hundreds) are plunging into gaps like Erebus, where black Cimmerian darkness holds high carnival with the reigning ghoul of Night. On, on and on we go, bounding, crashing, plunging at a breakneck speed, for the stage line, without which this whole country would be like a huge demijohn with the cork driven home and hermetically sealed--the stage line, which brings many a resident who curses it his only chance for a livelihood, is on short time in its transits now, and we are half an hour behind.
    Eleven o'clock and Canyonville. The little town is as still as the fabled Lethe. The gibbous moon has loosed her hold upon the air and fallen down behind the tree-covered mountains, and her silvery light no longer dims the glory of the jeweled stars. The Canyonville House, where we take refuge for the night, is aroused by our advent, and a bright-eyed daughter of the good landlady shows us to a tiny room, where we soon doze away into dreamland, the chief subject of our cogitations--home.
    This evening (Saturday) we are to begin a course of lectures here in the church, and in our next can tell you all about the place, the meetings, and the people.
Canyonville, July 26, 1879.
The New Northwest, Portland, August 7, 1879, page 2

    Gentlemen of Oregon, and such only are addressed as deserve the title, we ask you, respectfully and sincerely, to read and ponder well, for we have some important thoughts for your consideration, to which we wish to call your special attention.
    A few weeks ago, inspired by the same confidence in human nature that has carried her safely through eight years of active public life, the senior editor of the New Northwest went to Jacksonville in the pursuit of her mission. She found there many grand, good, noble ladies, and a few public-spirited and progressive gentlemen, who, in spite of the ribald jokes of their associates, treated her with that respect which is justly due from one civilly inclined person to another, without taking sex into account at all. The thought or word or deed that is always bringing forward the sex of a lady when considering her work is the thought, word or deed of a vulgar mind, and should not be tolerated by gentlemen. But it is tolerated. It was more than tolerated--it was encouraged--in Jacksonville. Mrs. Duniway, having unlimited confidence in the innate chivalry of the better classes of men, accepted the ribald ridicule and organized opposition of those high in power and place in her usual serenity of spirit, well knowing that in a mental contest, the only form of combat that is rightfully in keeping with the spirit of the age, she was more than a match for their ridicule and burlesque. So she bided her time and retorted in the New Northwest, giving measure for measure in the line of facetiae and squib, supplementing the whole with a statement of facts about an offending Judge--facts yet green in the memory of every citizen of Oregon, and kept so by common report, yet so distorted hitherto by the gossip of men that she herself believed, with hundreds of others, until she went to Jacksonville and heard the other side of the story from ladies who had known the Judge's injured wife from the beginning, that she had been a sort of Mrs. Sickles and her lordly husband a justified Daniel E. come to judgment.
    Judge Prim is a well-known opponent of woman's enfranchisement. His rulings in the courts are invariably to the effect that women have no legal rights which men are bound to respect. In this sense--and this only--be is a veritable Justice Taney, and all women in law and equity are Dred Scotts to him. He claims that women do not need the ballot for protection because they are better protected as they are. The opportunity to exhibit the manner in which the Judge "began at home" by protecting his own wife from masculine slander was too good for Mrs. Duniway to lose. Her sense of justice toward an injured woman was another incentive that induced her to publish the facts and vindicate the lady's character. For this she has been subjected to the vilest indignities from men, indignities for which there is no avenue for redress except through the courts of men. But this is not the question which you are specially called upon to consider. There is another and general question of far more importance to her than mere personal considerations, and that is this: Have women a country? And are they not wholly at the mercy of men, who would not rest a moment had they no greater personal guarantee of legal safety or protection from each other than that which they accord to ladies? It will not suffice for you to beg the question and say that all men are not a Supreme Judge or a Brigadier-General, and that many public officers are men of honor. We know that already. Neither are all men murderers, but you do not, on that account, refuse to make a general law to protect the people from being murdered, or punish those who kill. The difficulty with you lies right here. You have been so long accustomed to overlook the individual sovereignty of women that the fact of their innate equality with you before the law dawns upon you slowly, and in fractional exceptions. You are asked to think less of the sex of woman and more of her inherent claim equally with yourselves upon "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness." You cannot represent woman because you cannot put yourselves in her place. But you can demand that she be empowered with the right to use her inalienable right to represent herself. To the fact that men cannot be depended upon to protect women from slander and insult, Mrs. Duniway's recent experience in Jacksonville, as well as Judge Prim's example, bears ample testimony.
    Gentlemen of Oregon, how long shall these things be? Do you not realize that your own daughters may become the Mrs. Prims of the future? And do you not see that there is no guarantee that they shall be safe from a like injustice in case some evil-minded "protector" of women sees fit to slander them in hearing of their future husbands? The same law and usage holds as good today against a slandered woman as it did a dozen years ago. The sacred principle at stake is just as important as it was then. It is an issue that will not die till women are enfranchised. Will you do your duty?
The New Northwest, Portland, August 7, 1879, page 2

    Attention is called to the letter of a lady friend of human rights in Jacksonville, which appears in this issue of the New Northwest, and hails from the "seat of war." This lady quietly gave us much aid and comfort while in Southern Oregon, but kept herself in the background, partly to please her family, and partly because she imagines herself unprepared for public life. It will be observed that she, as well as hundreds of others of the "protected sex," were seriously disappointed because they were frightened away from our closing lecture. Her letter is especially commended to the consideration of the editors of Jacksonville, as well as the other voters who witnessed the disgraceful conduct of the West Shore's model--conduct which we cannot describe in print because of its low obscenity. But surely our friend is mistaken. Surely it cannot be that the sons of women have fallen so low, even in Jacksonville, that they will commit perjury! We cannot believe it. Surely there is some good to be found among them. At any rate, we propose to test it.
    Our correspondent asks for faith equal to ours that a better day is coming. Depend upon it, friend, the better day is almost here. The darkest hour of the night is just before the morning. This stirring-up was exactly what your people needed. They will yet rally to the support of law, order, soberness and decency. The subsidized press will soon be supplanted by a higher order of journalism. Men who now hobnob with shameless, open-day blackguards will quit it, or they will cease to prosper. A few years ago the entire Portland press, with the one exception of the People's Paper, was as dumb and obstinate as yours is now concerning this great question of equal rights. First it tried ridicule, and got checkmated by dignity, repartee and squibs. Then it tried misrepresentation, and was checkmated by facts. After that came vilification, then silence, and then respect and truthfulness. Today, among the eighteen newspapers published regularly here, there are but two opponents, and they are starving. These two are the only papers in the state outside of Jacksonville that pander to the mob-ruling spirit, and the few readers they had among the better classes are fast forsaking their faltering destinies.
The New Northwest, Portland, August 14, 1879, page 2

    I happened to be in Ashland at the time of Mrs. Duniway's visit there, and heard her able lecture upon "Constitutional Liberty." Then I hunted up her newspaper article which was claimed by the ringleaders of the Jacksonville riot as the pretext for their lawlessness, and can say that, while I enjoyed the general hits it contained, as a political and personal friend to Judge Prim, I at first felt sorry that she had alluded to the unpleasant episode in his domestic history, which we should all be glad to forget. But, when I learned from Mrs. D.'s friends the provocation that had induced it, my sorrow for the Judge changed to admiration for the lady's grit. It has been ascertained with sufficient certainty to proclaim as a fact that the mob was at first a put-up job among the Judge's enemies, in order to connect his name with a disgraceful riot and bring him into public contempt, and thus break down one of the prominent leaders of a dreaded political enemy. And yet it is equally true that his own personal and political friends, who did the most of the blowing--and all of the effigy and egging business--didn't have sense enough to see it till several days after they were trapped!
    Those incipient but blighted buds of Blackstone [We omit their names because they are not worth advertising.--Ed], whose bile was in such a fearful state of ebullition during Mrs. D.'s sojourn in Southern Oregon, should be presented by the Judge's enemies with a cheap chromo for the rare and unparalleled combination of egotism, vulgarity, stupidity, mendacity and ignorance they so eminently embody.
    Popular opinion, like the mills of the gods, grinds slow, but exceeding small, and the universal disgust consequent upon the misdirected ardor in the Judge's behalf over a simple matter of well-known truth to which Mrs. D. may have wisely or unwisely been provoked to allude--ardor which culminated in a disgraceful riot--will continue to rise and spread and thicken in this county, and from thence all over the state, until the very atmosphere will be surcharged with indignation, and the bare mention of the unfortunate circumstance will sting and burn and blister like the poisoned trail of the centipede.
    The reaction of the influence of such friends as rallied in the defense of the Judge will prove more rank and deadly to him than that of the Upas, more subtle than the viper's virus, and more surely destructive than the grip of an avenging Nemesis. He may well invoke the gods to spare his enemies and save him from his friends, for steadily but surely are they dragging him down, down! until their own low level shall have been reached. He now owes it to himself to come forward and state whether these bearded outlaws are his bosom friends, as they claim to be, and, if so, whether he endorses their lawlessness. A more cowardly and contemptible set of toadies and ruffians could not be found anywhere else outside the walls of a penitentiary. If these men are Judge Prim's friends--and we are certainly justified in assuming that they are, since the outrage was committed in his name--then all decent men, as Democrats, must repudiate him; as voters, we must denounce him; and as friends to law and order, we must renounce further affiliation with him or his kind.
Sams Valley, August 5, 1879.
The New Northwest, Portland, August 14, 1879, page 2

    A good portion of our space is given up to correspondents this week, who are certainly coming to the front right royally, although those resident in the midst of the late riot are still too rigidly held under a reign of lawlessness to be justified in risking their lives by giving their names to the public. Reading the letter of the gentleman from Sams Valley leads us to say right here, that if the Judge, in whose name the outrage to which "Law and Order" alludes was committed, is at all worthy of the place he occupies, he will yet repudiate the action of that mob. The man has not yet lived who could sustain himself under the pestilential influence of the kennel of curs who are at present barking for him. But we well comprehend the final result. Like the French, who were ready to shout "Vive la Napoleon!" when the conqueror was chief, yet when fallen and conquered were the first to forsake him, so will the mob repudiate their own action after their chief has fallen. If he can stand the dastardly insult to decency which has been committed in his name by his pretended friends without openly rebuking and condemning it, he deserves and will receive the contumely of every gentleman, and the scorn of every lady in the land.
The New Northwest, Portland, August 14, 1879, page 2

    Doubtless you are safe at "home again" ere this, engaged in thinking over the experiences of your Southern Oregon campaign, and expressing astonishment with your friends at the discoveries you made while in Jacksonville. But you are not more surprised than we to discover the fact that not only is the freedom of speech and of the press abridged by force of eggs in some cases, but in others the barbarous freedom of the Dark Ages is openly indulged in. The fact that any wearer of masculine apparel could be so cowardly as to use insulting and obscene language to an unarmed woman on the street--language that he would not dare use to a man--ought to be enough of disgrace for Jacksonville to bear, without the subsequent fact that, by virtue of cash in hand and supposed unlimited credit in San Francisco, such persons are enabled to wield such an influence that even the witnesses to the cowardly outrage are asserting that, rather than testify to the truth, they will swear they know nothing about it--and that, too, when even women know that such swearing would be perjury. And the saddest thought in this connection is that men, heretofore supposed to have some regard for honor, will meet such blackguards on a "level," thereby endorsing such indecency. The press, too, is subsidized and silent. Money and vulgarity are evidently at a premium among the voters.
    Verily, the situation of the "protected" women of this place is almost hopeless, when they dare not even attend a lecture when they wish to for fear of being attacked with eggs and dirty sticks. What indignity must we suffer next? Pray that we may have faith, equal to yours, that a better day is coming. Yours for a change,
Jacksonville, August 2, 1879.
The New Northwest, Portland, August 14, 1879, page 2

    There is so much to say to the readers of the People's Paper from this region that I do not know where to begin, but, first of all, let me thank the New Northwest for hermetically sealing the Jacksonville papers against the woman question. Not another disrespectful word have they uttered about us, not another falsehood have they expressed, nor have they distorted another of our sentiments since you unsheathed your two-edged sword of truth and ridicule, and proved to them that a righteous cause was not afraid of the burlesque of its enemies when backed, as every good endeavor is, by facts. But the good that will accrue to our cause by this "new departure" is not the only benefit that is likely to accrue from Mrs. Duniway's visit here.
    The city papers have been in the habit of publishing everything, from the unpleasant and unsavory private histories of the lives and deeds of prominent citizens down to their "religious certificates." And, since they made such an outcry against Mrs. D. for stating a well-known public matter of simple truth in the direct line of her duty as woman's champion, I do wish you had their old files for fifteen years back, just to let you see how much worse than anything she ever thought of are their published utterances about opposing candidates for office. I have a friend who has several of these old papers, and it may be necessary to send you a few extracts. I did not know at first but their present silence in Mrs. D.'s case was another instance of "bulldozing"--that they had been "overawed by the military," but, on second thought, we fervently hope that they have discovered the inconsistency of their position against her, and will remain hermetically sealed until after the next election. It such be the case, there are a number of citizens who design to become candidates who will draw a long breath.
    The Brigadier-General evidently knows he went too far. You do not imagine what a silence has fallen on the city since that night Mrs. D. left. Everybody felt that Jacksonville had given itself a hard blow, and every word our paper says about it cuts like a knife. The press generally condemns the riot, just as all good people do. The West Shore man sent copies of his paper to all of the prominent citizens here, my husband included. Of course the publisher attacked Mrs. D. as he did to curry favor with "such men as T.G.R.," [Thomas G. Reames] etc., etc. But it was fun to see the men collect in crowds on the corners the Saturday after to read the New Northwest and laugh over the West Shore's well-merited castigation that it contained. Men are learning that women are no longer weak nor timid nor powerless when they know their cause is just.
    We are all wondering who the Sams Valley correspondent is. Do you know that I have been accused of writing those letters. I feel highly honored over it. They made the mob element boil.
    Rev. Mr. Crowell has been quite sick. He killed himself by his course during the riot. The mob element to which he pandered will detest him, and the best people will only tolerate him.
    In the last Sentinel observe the column of locals, and near the top you will find mention of another case of crim. con. that has developed itself in this woman-mobbing community. The "leading man" is the local preacher in the north end of the county, and the other party is a weak-minded member of his congregation who doesn't want to vote. Now let the Brigadier-General get out his eggs and effigy for the Sentinel. There is missionary work for the evangelists in their own fold if they would but attend to it. Besides, this is the eighth case of seduction thus advertised here within the past twelve months.
    Mrs. D. need not wonder that she was mobbed in this climate. The wonder is that she was not killed outright, for she attacked iniquity in high places, and was the first woman to come among us publicly daring to defend the weak against the mighty.
Jacksonville, August 31, 1879.
The New Northwest, Portland, September 4, 1879, page 2

    Hoodlumism has been so rampant at public meetings of late that the assistance of the law will be invoked and offenders brought to justice upon the first convenient occasion. If boys have not enough respect for themselves and the people who compose these assemblages to behave properly on their own accord, they should soon become aware of the fact that there is a penalty for their meanness.--[Jacksonville Times.
    When the men of a city behave themselves in a ruffianly manner, as many men of Jacksonville did no longer ago than last summer, they can hardly expect boys to be models of propriety.
The New Northwest, Portland, March 4, 1880, page 2

    In looking through an old copy of the Jacksonville Times, which I yesterday got hold of by accident, I found, under head of "What We'll Swear Off for 1880," this item: "Mrs. Duniway--her native nastiness." I hesitated about copying such an expression for the consideration of a respectable journal like the New Northwest, but my indignation grew the greater with my waiting, and today I feel that I must ask to be heard in honest protest. It is perhaps natural for journals like the Times and Sentinel, that are noted chiefly for the indecent character of their "personals," to raise the stop-thief cry when a decent newspaper, edited by a lady whose moral character is above reproach, comes to the front and puts their "native nastiness"--excuse the word--to open shame by her fearless denunciation of immorality and tyranny, but their outcry is very offensive to the people, nevertheless.
    Since Mr. Nickell has had control of the Times, he has published many articles that I now recall, for instance, one entitled "Religious Certificates," and another, "That Boy's Brother's Rejoinder," either of which, had they appeared in a woman's paper, would have caused the editor to be indicted for sending obscene matter through the mails. And yet Mr. Nickell not only goes scot free, but he steps out of his way to throw the filth of his own imagination at a lady who has only evoked his ire because she has proved her ability and courage to denounce tyranny and wickedness in high places.
    The Sentinel has also lately had another mild attack of the Duniway rabies (another Turnerism), and has been boasting that "tramps and females" are the only people whom Jacksonvillains [sic] fail to treat with decency. But the Sentinel ought not to have been quite so sweeping in its allusions to "females," under this head, for everybody knows that when an abandoned woman comes to Jacksonville--and several are always here to stay--she can drag her gorgeous trappings through the streets with impunity, and no one tries harder than our editors to do her honor. The lady who dares to rebuke sin and denounce iniquity in high places is the only person who is in danger of a mob of editors and marshals and brigadier generals in Jacksonville.
March 1, 1880.
The New Northwest, Portland, March 18, 1880, page 2  "Turnerism" refers to J. H. Turner of the East Oregonian.

    A letter from a prominent gentleman of Southern Oregon states that hoodlumism was so rampant at Jacksonville that the citizens made no arrangements for any demonstration on the arrival of the Presidential party, fearing that the slums of the town would cause trouble and publicly insult the company. There was not even a committee appointed to receive the distinguished visitors, but it was necessary for the party to remain overnight, and in the evening a quiet reception was held. That the guests noticed the town's slight is shown by the fact that they mentioned the kind welcome accorded them at Ashland. It is enough to flush the face of every Oregonian to know that the only discourtesy shown the President on his tour was shortly after his arrival in our state. Brigadier General Thos. G. Reames, of the Oregon State Militia, is president of the town board of Jacksonville, and such a man could not be expected to rise above his level, even to welcome the Chief Executive of the nation. The respectable people of the place feel deeply humiliated that they could not venture to treat the President with the respect due his station.
The New Northwest, Portland, October 7, 1880, page 4

    A Jacksonville correspondent enviously writes that "from some cause or combination of causes, Ashland has recently outgrown many other villages of Southern Oregon." The cause is that Ashland is without the class that makes Jacksonville a plague spot, and consequently has more than rivaled the town of eggs and effigies. Were the latter place rid of its demoralizing element, its good citizens would make it an honor to the state.
The New Northwest, Portland, December 9, 1880, page 4

JACKSONVILLE, Or., September 19, 1881.
    The inside of the California and Oregon stagecoach was crowded with passengers on the evening of the 12th instant, when your correspondent climbed to the welcome outside seat above the boot and took her place on a lofty perch, bound for an all-night ride in the dust and gloom of an Indian summer night. Beside her, upon the one hand, was the skillful manager of the spanking six-in-hand, who officiates at once as conductor, engineer and brakeman, and upon the other sat Al. Holman, the wide-awake young representative of the Oregonian, likewise bound for Jackson County.
    The road from Roseburg to Myrtle Creek is rough and mountainous, grandly picturesque in the gloom of evening, and would of course be doubly so by moonlight. The moon was behind time on this occasion, and a lively controversy as to its probable time of rising occurred between Tobe, the driver, and George, a station hand, who was perched behind us on the coach.
    "She'll be up and shining by the time we reach the Myrtle Creek station," said Tobe.
    "Bet you a gallon o' soap you won't see her at Myrtle Creek," said George.
    "Bet a washboard against your soap."
    Nothing more was said for half an hour. Then Al. saw a luminous glow creeping up the horizon's edge, and exclaimed:
    "There's your moon!"
    Vain delusion. It was only a forest fire.
    "Let that washboard be of double zinc, ribbed back, and latest pattern," said George, exultantly.
    After another half hour we came to a low indenture in the adjacent mountain chain, and there, sure enough, was Luna, shining serenely in our faces from beneath a cap of shadow that gave her a gibbous shape.
    "I'll turn in that gallon of soap on my wash bill," said Tobe.
    And so on, alternately, soap was ahead in the sags [low places in the road], and washboards were at a premium in other places, till we reached Myrtle Creek, when the bet was decided a "draw," the moon being neither up nor down because of the undulations of the mountains and the road.
    At this point we changed horses for a slower team, and on we went up the South Umpqua Valley, through a region passing beautiful, sometimes encountering narrow grades, and again emerging into little vales, the busy driver upon the right and the tree-clad mountains upon either hand, with here and there a silent farmhouse piercing the drowsy air with its humble roof as it sat asleep by the roadside.
    George left us at Myrtle Creek, and Tobe at Levens' station. We had learned to appreciate Tobe, and felt sorry to part with so good a driver. But here was his home station, and our loss was his gain, for he was weary enough with his six hours' struggle with six horses, and it was his time for rest. The new driver proved an interesting oddity. Al. and ourselves theoretically drew straws for choice, and the "soap story" fell to us, else we should like to tell the "horse anecdote," for which see [the] Oregonian.
    The night seemed a week in length. The air grew chilly and the miles interminably long. But the gray of the morning came at last, bringing us to the breakfast station and a roaring pitchwood fire. In twenty minutes we were off again, refreshed, but oh! so lazy. The hours rolled on, the sun mounted high in the heavens, the dust thickened and the horses lagged, but by dint of constant whipping they made tolerable time.
    The South Umpqua River was left far in the rear, and Rogue River, about its equal in volume, but prettier, if possible, in character, came into sight. Gold fields began to abound, deserted now, and dry. The bosom of Nature has been cut and scarified in a shameful manner in these parched areas, as though a cancer had left its horrible ravages everywhere--ravages that the wounded earth could never heal.
    Noon, and Rock Point. "Twenty minutes for dinner." We bolt the meal and bowl ahead. The narrow valley is widening now, and we are nearing Jacksonville. Away to our left, in the hazy distance, the beautiful Umpqua Prairie spreads its ample lap freighted with autumn's richest bounties. It is like Camas Prairie in Idaho, or Spokan Prairie in Washington. It is like Salem Prairie in Marion or the plains of Washington or Linn County. In some respects it is unlike all of these, but in general outlines it is strikingly similar.
    Yonder, at the base of an amphitheater of tree-studded hills, diversified here and there by farms and vineyards that creep down to the level edges, sits the historic town of Jacksonville. Everything is quiet, and we descend from our lofty perch and meet Madame Holt at her splendid brick hotel, and she proves the most hospitable of landladies as she conducts her dust-laden guest to a pleasant chamber, where plenty of soap and water soon transform us from a dusty pyramid to a clean but sleepy mortal.
    After fifteen hours of uninterrupted slumber, we descend to a breakfast fit for a royal feast. Everybody marvels that Madame Holt can give so much good food for the reasonable charges she makes. Broiled chicken, beefsteaks smothered in butter, steaks and onions, fish, ham and eggs, biscuit, hotcakes, coffee with genuine cream, native wine if you want it, and fruits in abundance, form her breakfast melange, with dinner and supper in proportion. Yet the Madame, who has reared this hotel as a monument to her own industry, has no voice in the disposition of her heavy taxes, while any irresponsible beer-slinger of the protecting sex can vote to tax her property to suit himself.
    Thursday was Pioneers' Day. The reunion was to be held at Ashland, and Madame Holt placed an elegant livery team at our disposal, and furnished a driver, also at her own expense; a courtesy for which we are duly grateful, as all other teams were in use, and but for her hospitality we should have missed what proved a most enjoyable day.
    The drive of fifteen miles from Jacksonville was accomplished without accident. The insufferable heat of previous days gave way to balmy air and Indian summer sunshine. Upon the right rolled the beautiful foothills, and upon the left lay the expansive valley of the Rogue River, narrowing, after leaving Phoenix, till it came to an abrupt enclosure of picturesque mountain scenery, at whose feet sat the finely located town of Ashland, with all her people arrayed for a holiday.
    After a brief rest at the hotel, we accompanied the moving crowd to an alder grove, under whose shade a speaker's stand and band's and choir's platform looked pleasingly down upon a semi-circular succession of temporary seats. Music by the band was followed by a fervent prayer by Rev. Mr. Williams. The choir, under the musical supervision of Miss Ella Scott (a beloved relative and old-time pupil of the undersigned), sang "A Hundred Years Ago" in spirited style. Judge Day, husband of our erewhile Albany friend, Mrs. McGee Day, read appropriate resolutions on the death of B. B. Griffin and Levi Tinkham, and the choir sang "Years of Our Childhood." Judge Huffman, president of the Society, then announced that no regular speaker had been chosen for the day, and as your correspondent had recently arrived in Southern Oregon and was now in the audience, she was respectfully invited to address the pioneers. We were taken off our guard and out of our line, but we did the best we could, our theme taking a wide range, the large audience according it the most respectful attention, and several voices crying "go on," when, at [the] end of the hour's effort, we resumed our seat. The camp fires of the pioneers have died out, but the hearts of the survivors are yet warm, and their hospitality is unchangeable to the last.
    The choir sang a concluding chorus, and the crowd formed into companies according to their dates as pioneers, '45 coming first, then '46, and so on to immigrants of '52, and marched to martial music into the depths of an adjoining grove, where a bountiful feast was spread upon snowy tables festooned at the ends by arches of old-fashioned flowers, as appropriate as beautiful. Mr. E. K. Anderson, the marshal of the day, proved a veritable general in his arrangement of the companies, and pioneer women by scores passed tempting viands over the loaded tables, feeding pioneer men and women by hundreds.
    After dinner came a genuine old-time reunion and hand-shaking among all the people. Many acquaintances made by ourself two years ago at the Fourth of July celebration at Willow Springs were present. Hosts of new friends were made, and it was indeed pleasant to be there.
    After an hour or two of social converse, the crowd returned to the speakers' grove, and after-dinner speeches became the order. Father Beeson spoke first, and though seventy-eight years old, proved himself able to interest the thinking multitude with "bedrock facts" in a speech of great pith and power. Among other things, he said:
    It was recorded in history by Confucius, many centuries before the Christian era, and confirmed by Christ in the same positive command, that we should do unto others as we would have them do unto us--unto women as well as unto men--which reminds us of the bedrock fact that woman, being coequal with man in the origin and destiny of the race, her natural right is coequal with his in its government, and that until her influence is as paramount for good in public affairs as it is in a well-ordered family, the nation will continue in a state of dissatisfied unrest, like children bereft of a mother's care. This brings us to the bedrock fact that better men, and methods, cannot be until mothers are provided with better conditions for their production. When this is done, and the best men and women are jointly placed to rule the nation, we may look for the following results:
    First--A revision of the Constitution, which the clear instincts of women will see to be necessary.
    Second--The adjustment of Indian affairs, for the equal benefit of both races.
    Third--The substitution of arbitration for war.
    Fourth--The discharge of the army, and a great reduction of taxes.
    Fifth--Equal pay for equal work, in all vocations.
    Sixth--Fewer and better children, with their increase proportioned to the increased ratio of the production of food.
    Seventh--The rule of science, instead of obsolete creeds.
    Other measures of equal importance will be adopted in due time as the world advances in intelligence.
    In the course of his remarks he referred to "Mrs. Grundy," who, he said, was no doubt in the audience, but he must risk offending her, for he must not tell the truth though the heavens fell.
    Ex-Representative Smith, who was on the platform, undertook to correct Mr. Beeson, "You mean Mrs. Duniway!" he exclaimed, with the voice of a Stentor, "That's the lady's name--Duniway!" he repeated, amid roars of laughter.
    The good old speaker kindly explained the meaning of the mythical character, and went on with his address.
    The next speaker was the distinguished gentleman above named, who related several pioneer incidents connected with the famous Donner party, of which he was a member, his language being original if not elegant.
    Mr. E. K. Anderson, who is one of the leading men of Ashland, then spoke for fifteen minutes, and, like Mr. Beeson, made a rousing woman suffrage argument. He was followed by Mr. Kahler and others whose names we did not catch.
    We were called upon to make the closing speech, and considerable pleasantry occurred between friend Smith and ourself over his innocent but laughable mistake in regard to "Mrs. Grundy."
    The crowd broke up in the jolliest of humors, and we returned to Jacksonville in good spirits, realizing as never before that
"The good time coming is almost here."
    And now, for several days, we have been idle, owing to a return of the severe indisposition that laid us by at Roseburg. There's no use in talking; forty-seven isn't twenty-five, and all the ambition you can muster will not cause Mother Nature to rebate one jot or tittle of her rigorous demands for occasional relaxation when you are nearing the summit of life's meridian. We are being royally cared for by Madame Holt, and have had no end of hospitable attention from many other friends. We are feeling better now and will soon be able to lecture. The Plymales, Cardwells, Dowells, Beekmans, Kinneys and many others have been specially obliging, and the editors of the Sentinel, Times and Tidings are as courteous and fair toward ourself and mission as any lady could desire.
New Northwest, Portland, September 22, 1881, page 1

    The Jacksonville brass bad complimented Mrs. A. S. Duniway with a serenade after her lecture in that place on Monday evening of last week.
    Mrs. Duniway lectured in the Presbyterian Church Wednesday evening to a good audience. Her subject was woman suffrage, and it was handled in her usual forcible and effective style.
"Brevities," Ashland Tidings, September 30, 1881, page 3

    (This correspondence should have been published last week, but failed to arrive in time.)
ASHLAND, Or., September 24, 1881.
    The sad news that the great calamity which for eighty days had brooded over the entire world with its wings of sadness had at last culminated in the death of the nation's patient has paralyzed business for the week, even in this remote part of the great domain over which James A. Garfield had been called to preside as its Chief Magistrate. The news reached Jacksonville at 8 a.m. on Tuesday, the 20th instant. All business was at once suspended. Stores, hotels and dwellings were festooned in mourning, and preparations for the final obsequies occupied everybody's time and thoughts.
    The undersigned had lectured on the previous evening, in presence of a large and respectful auditory, and had afterward been the recipient of a band serenade, which made a universal sensation until superseded by the startling, though not unexpected, announcement that the nation was in mourning.
    The city council called a meeting on Tuesday evening, and elected a committee of arrangements for the purpose of observing the obsequies on a large scale on the forthcoming funeral day. The women of Jacksonville then decided to hold a memorial service, or women's condolence meeting, which convened on Wednesday evening in Holt's Hall, and was largely attended by the very best people. Mrs. N. A. Dowell, wife of Judge B. F. Dowell, founder of the Jacksonville Sentinel, presided at the meeting, and made the opening address. This lady frequently distinguished herself during her husband's absences from home while the Sentinel was in possession, by conducting that journal with the vigor and ability of an editor to the manor born. The paper was Republican in politics, and she is said to have proved herself able to "out-Herod Herod" in waging an aggressive campaign against the Democratic hosts that menaced her. Partisan strife is happily slumbering now, and Democrats and Republicans pass good-natured jokes at each others' expense over their former differences, and the result is harmony.
    Of the committee of ladies who managed the women's condolence meeting, and to whom, with Mrs. Dowell's aid as presiding officer, its success was attributable, are Mrs. J. McCully, Mrs. W. J. Plymale, Mrs. E. Kenney, Miss A. Rose, Mrs. Kubli, Auntie Ganung (a venerable lady in gray hair and snowy cap border whose years and grace rendered her conspicuous among the younger occupants of the platform), Mrs. J. A. Cardwell and daughters, Madame Holt, and many others whose names we cannot now recall. Though unaccustomed to presiding over public assemblies, Mrs. Dowell proved equal to the occasion in every particular. Her address was characterized by appropriateness, feeling, and faultless diction, and would have reflected credit upon any famous woman of the East. Rev. B. J. Sharp, pastor of the M.E. church, officiated as chaplain, and the excellent brass band of Jacksonville, of which Professor Smith is an able and obliging leader, favored the meeting with funeral music, as sweet and sad as it was welcome and appropriate. The following resolutions, read by Miss Isa McCully, were unanimously adopted:
    WHEREAS, In times of a common calamity, women, equally with men, are interested in giving expression to the grief that on an occasion like the present involuntarily wells up from every overburdened heart; therefore,
    Resolved, That we, ladies of Jacksonville, though far removed from the funeral pageant that guards the body of our nation's dead, have hearts that beat in unison with the nation's woe, and our sighs are wafted from the land of the setting sun to the far-off shores of the Atlantic seas, where they mingle with the sobs of the millions of other mourners whose bereavement brings us together in the wail of a common lamentation, cementing us anew in one great family that knows no North or South or East or West or black or white or male or female, bond or free.
    WHEREAS, President James A. Garfield, the honored head of this mighty nation, has been stricken down by the red hand of an assassin whose name and character inspire every mother's heart with shuddering and horror; therefore,
    Resolved, That we will teach our sons to speak the cowardly murderer's name with contempt and loathing and our daughters to contemplate his memory with scorn and disgust.
    Resolved, That our hearts have throbbed in pitying unison with the conjugal woes of the faithful wife of our martyred President during the long period of public suspense that has at last ended in the universal calamity that we have convened to mourn.
    Resolved, That we tender our sincerest condolence to the bereaved widow of the nation's honored dead, and point her with trembling fingers toward the Better Land, where murderers cannot enter, and where she may one day join her loving husband in a blest reunion that no assassin's bullet can destroy.
    Resolved, That we remember with emulation the spirit of heroism that prompted the estimable mother of our martyred President to protect him and her three other helpless children through the long years of her lonely widowhood, bringing them up in the ways of usefulness by her own perseverance, and leading her illustrious son to fame through her own intelligent faithfulness.
    Resolved, That we tender sympathy and condolence to the President's venerable mother. May the Angel of Mercy speak peace to her anguish-stricken heart and the Angels of Love and Hope lead her safely on through the remainder of her journey toward her nearby haven of eternal rest.
    Resolved, That a copy of these resolutions be forwarded to the wife and the mother of our martyred President.
    Your correspondent was then accorded an hour's hearing, of which we can only say that it came from the heart, and was received by the large assembly in a manner thoroughly satisfactory to ourself and friends. A funeral dirge concluded the exercises; and all retired to their homes profoundly impressed by the national calamity that has draped the world in mourning.
    Our own physical indisposition, added to the suspension of business and general grief attendant upon the death of the President, has hindered us much in the discharge of usual duties and retarded the dispatch of regular business, and we are obliged to leave Jacksonville for the present without having taken note of its different enterprises, as we hope to do on our return.
    Thursday, the 22nd, and we take the stage for Ashland. Our fellow passenger is Rev. Mr. Chapman, pastor of the M.E. church in Corvallis, in whom we are pleased to find a progressive thinker and courteous gentleman, awake to the intellectual demands of the age, and of course a consistent Christian. It was mainly through the efforts of this gentleman in securing subscriptions that the Ashland Academy became the property of the Conference and is now in a flourishing condition.
    We reached Ashland after a three hours' ride, and took refuge in Houck's well-kept hotel, where Mrs. Houck, one of the most amiable of landladies, made us welcome by her cozy fireside. On the morrow we repaired to the hospitable home of Mr. and Mrs. J. Thompson, where we were taken in charge by the good wife, who proceeded at once to administer hygienic remedies with such success that when Saturday dawned we were able to assist the bright young girls of the beautiful town in draping the Presbyterian church for a women's memorial service, which was held in the evening in the presence of a very large congregation. Mrs. J. McCall, wife of one of Ashland's leading merchants, presided at this meeting, and though, like Mrs. Dowell, she was wholly unused to taking such positions, her manner was that of a veteran in the service. Her address, though brief, was logical, telling, feeling, and appropriate, and many eyes were bathed in tears as she depicted, in beautiful and impressive language, the sorrowful scenes in the sick chamber, the deathbed agonies of the assassinated President, and the heart-rending emotions of the faithful wife and aged mother of the nation's illustrious dead. Mr. Fraley officiated as chaplain, and a well-trained choir, under the supervision of Mr. Willits and Miss Scott, discoursed appropriate music, Miss Wagner presided at the organ. Resolutions of condolence, analogous to those offered by the ladies of Jacksonville, were read by Miss Kate Thornton and unanimously adopted, after which came an hour's talk by the undersigned, which was received amidst the profoundest and most impressive silence. The choir sang "America," Rev. Mr. Royal pronounced the benediction, and the great congregation dispersed to their homes, while we repaired to our room at the hotel to write this letter and wrestle unsuccessfully with the fickle tyrant, sleep.
New Northwest, Portland, October 6, 1881, page 1


PHOENIX, Or., October 1, 1881.
    Among all the beautiful towns we have visited within the past ten years, we have not found one more picturesque than Ashland, nestled as she is under the hills at the head of Rogue River Valley, where she sits like a gem upon the brow of nature, directly under an arching tiara of tree-clad summits that roll away toward heaven and seem to sleep with their vernal crests against the obtruding sky. The houses are mostly new and tastefully built, surrounded by gardens arrayed in gorgeous drapery of flowers, rivaling the sun in their brilliancy of coloring. Never was a town better supplied with running water, and never did the people know better how to utilize it to the best advantage in beautifying lawns and gardens. Housewives swap plants with one another with wholehearted generosity, and each views with the other in the laudable attempt to have the greatest variety and prettiest selection in rival dooryards.
    Rogue River Valley looks as if it had sometime rolled itself away from some far-off parental foothill, and, broadening and flattening in its course, had at last met a mountainous obstruction here, with which it contended for a while, and then settled down in billowy undulations, content, after a season of unrest and tossing, to remain within its prescribed boundaries, and henceforth strive to atone in beauty for what it lacked in further dimensions. And yet the valley is not little. It is larger than French Prairie and Washington Plains combined, and equal to the valleys of the Luckiamute, the La Creole and the North Yamhill taken together, with a diversity of climate, soil, productions and scenery quite equal to all of these. The climate is not too wet, nor is it too dry. It is not generally too cold in winter for comfort, and is not very often too hot in summer for endurance. Fruits, grain and vegetables flourish in wonderful luxuriance, and with as little labor to the husbandman as in any other part of the temperate zone.
    The proprietors of Ashland saw and appreciated these combined advantages, and did not overlook the fact that Lake County, beyond the mountains, would necessarily pay tribute to her commercial interests if she would provide herself with the commodities of trade. Nor did they fail to see that she must one day in the near future become a terminus for a railway enterprise, such as is now contemplated by surveyors already in the field. And they have built brick stores that would be a credit to large cities, and erected grist mills and woolen factories of ample dimensions, relying upon the unrivaled wheat of the valley and the equally excellent wool of the plains and hillsides for an abundance of raw material that can always be produced in quantities to meet the demand. They have also built a college, which, though yet in its infancy, has formed the nucleus of a seat of learning that may yet outrank a Dartmouth or a Princeton; for the country is new, and its most sanguine friends have scarcely yet imagined its future possibilities. The college is presided over by Professor Rogers, with Mr. Royal, Miss Kate Thornton and Mrs. Rogers as assistants. The comparative number of young ladies in attendance is a matter of surprise, and their superior intelligence is a subject of much congratulation. Any croaker who doubts the expediency of the advent of woman's equality before the law should visit the Ashland college and become acquainted with its lady students.
    There are two handsome churches in the town, the Presbyterian and the Methodist. In the former of which it was our good fortune to meet a large and respectful audience on the evening of the 28th ult., to whom we discoursed as best we could upon the gospel of liberty. We were also favored by a choir of well-trained voices, led by Miss Ella Scott. The general appreciation accorded our work by leading men and women will never be forgotten.
    Through the courtesy of Mr. J. H. Atkinson, we were conducted through the woolen mills, and were gratified to see the newest and best machinery in rapid motion, turning out the very best qualities of flannels, cassimeres, fancy cloths, blankets, hose, etc. The demand is greater than the supply, although the manufactured goods will amount to a cool hundred thousand dollars' worth this year alone. Messrs. Thornton, Wagner, Anderson and Atkinson, the proprietors of these mills, deserve great credit for their enterprise in building up so large an industry in this great inland center. Quite a number of girls and women find employment here, and we are assured by the gentlemanly superintendent that they make more faithful, steady and capable hands than average men. Another evidence that the enforced kitchen sphere of most women is not a normal one.
    The grist mill belonging to Mr. Jacob Wagner is noted for the excellent quality of its breadstuffs, due in part to superior wheat and in part to the mill and the miller, all being first class in their line.
    Of the merchants of Ashland, Messrs. McCall and Atkinson are leaders, though there are others who do a thriving business.
    The two hotels, one kept by Mr. and Mrs. Houck, and the other by Mrs. Vining, are in a flourishing condition. Mrs. Vining, who formerly lived in Jacksonville, will soon retire from the hotel business and remove to her own private home, as her dutiful son, Mr. J. H. Vining, has reached his majority, and, like the true son of a strong-minded woman, is ready to shoulder the responsibility of supporting the mother who protected him in his infancy and helplessness and reared him to self-dependence and useful manhood. Mr. V. has established himself in an oyster and confectionery saloon, and bids fair to become the Alisky or Hegele of Ashland in his chosen line.
    When commercial travelers coming from the south reach Houck's hotel, they usually lie by for a day or two to enjoy something good to eat, and when they return over the same road they take along a hamper of cold victuals to live upon till they pass Marysville and strike another region where hotels are good.
    Among the other paying industries of Ashland which we had cause to note specially are the blacksmith shop of the Smith Brothers, the boot and shoe shop of Mr. DePeatt, the drug store of Dr. Chitwood, the livery stable of Mr. Norton, the Linkville stage line of Mr. Phillips, the wagon shop of Mr. Kentner, the meat market of Mr. Harris, the millinery store of the Misses Anderson, and last, but not least, the billiard saloon of Mr. Erb, where anybody can go and play a harmless game without any more danger from the evils of intemperance than they meet in their own parlors.
    Who in Portland will follow the example of Mr. Erb and establish a billiard room where there is no intoxicating accompaniment to lure the sons of women to ruin? We pause for a reply.
    Ashland is a pronounced temperance town. Lately a saloon has been established here, in the face of general protests of indignation, and several ladies, including Mrs. Root, Mrs. Gillette and Mrs. Russell, made up their minds to raise a subscription and buy it out, and they have succeeded, the erewhile proprietors pledging themselves to never again start a saloon business in the county. The evil is scotched, though not killed, and we fear that the ladies will have a heavy job on their hands if they continue to keep the saloon business bought out, even in Ashland. When they become voters, they will have the power to assist other good and responsible citizens in abating such nuisances, and they will then be able to work as sovereigns, instead of suppliants as now.
    We must not forget to mention Professor Willits, the efficient musical director, whose name was inadvertently omitted when writing our last Ashland letter, and whose art has reached a high stage of excellence. Nor should we omit Mr. Klum, the obliging telegraph operator, nor Mr. W. C. Myer, the famous importer and owner of Percheron horses and Jersey cows. Nor would this sketch be complete without a notice of Mr. Leeds, editor and publisher of the Ashland Tidings, a readable and newsy county paper in which the citizens take commendable pride. Mrs. F. A. Sears, formerly of Albany, is now residing here with her family, and we know her former friends will be glad to hear through these columns of her health and prosperity.
    Ashland, like very other town of its size, has its social divisions, of which any visitor can hear both sides; but it will grow up out of these differences after a while, and its whole-souled people, if they do not all unite as formerly, will cease to antagonize over different opinions, and then their little animosities over side issues will fade out and be forgotten.
    A friendly rivalry between several enterprising house-builders is going on, and the result is noticeable in a number of new mansions now in process of erection, any one of which is sufficiently attractive for the mundane abode of a member of Congress.
    Nowhere have we found the people more wide awake than here upon the woman suffrage question, nor have we ever met a larger proportionate number of first-class co-workers in the cause. Its few opponents are so noticeably deficient in intellect and understanding that they excite the commiseration of all the rest. The home of Hon. Lindsay Applegate and wife is here, and the influence of this worthy couple has been noticeably beneficial to the cause of liberty.
    Our time was up in the town, though our visit was not half completed, and it was with genuine regret that we took leave of our good hospitable friends, Mr. and Mrs. Jacob Thompson, to whose kindly care we owed our rapidly improving health. Spent the night at the hotel, and were off by 6 a.m. on the stage, bound for Phoenix, where we alighted, after a two hours' ride, and were made genuinely welcome in the spacious home of Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Colver and their amiable son and daughter-in-law. Here in the evening (Thursday) we met a fine audience, and on the morrow went with our good friends into the country, where we all spent the day in the genial company of Mr. and Mrs. Gore, Mrs. VanDyke, Mr. and Mrs. Rose, and their families, and returned at night to meet another large assembly in Colver's hall, to whom we again preached the gospel of equal rights.
    Phoenix is a little town in the midst of a big country. It has two stores, one kept by Mr. Sargent, and the other by Mr. J. R. Reames, a blacksmith shop, hotel, drug store, etc., and is a model of intelligence and progress. Its people are, of course, woman suffragists. We regret that Uncle Sam Colver is not at home, but his good wife and family render us every needed aid in carrying forward our mission of liberty. Among the ladies not before mentioned whose acquaintance we have made in this place, who have taken active interest in this place, who have taken active interest in our work, are Mesdames Sargent, Dunlap, Farlow and Robison, Mrs. M. Colver and Mrs. Dr. Devis. With such a corps of assistants, the work cannot fail to prosper, and we shall take the morning stage for Jacksonville encouraged and strengthened for renewed endeavors in the great battle for the right.
New Northwest, Portland, October 6, 1881, page 1


    The autumn air was crisp and invigorating as at 8 a.m. on the morning of the 4th inst. your correspondent climbed to the boot on the great lumbering stage, and, bidding her Phoenix friends goodbye, set face once more toward Jacksonville,
    Recent frosts had bitten the luxuriant vegetation that everywhere abounded, and successive days of sunshine had colored the dying leaves afar and near with deeper shades of amber, ruby, gold, crimson and scarlet than those that had met our delighted gaze in the Willamette Valley three weeks before. There had been rain enough to conquer the dust, and the face of nature was cleanly washed and rouged and radiant.
    The ride of seven miles behind a spirited six-in-hand was a delightful one. Giddings, the driver, was an Ashland man, and as courteous and genteel as other gentlemen in that famous town. Beside us sat a Californian, formerly a resident of this valley, who has lost none of his old-time appreciation of its inspiring scenery, auriferous rocks and productive soil through years of absence. Like the driver, he was a staunch Woman Suffragist, and gave so many cogent reasons for his belief that it was not necessary for us to talk at all. But no one need imagine that we refrained from talking, for women seldom do.
    It is estimated that the equal rights movement is growing so rapidly in this part of the country that five hundred more votes could be obtained in its favor now than could have been secured a month since. All the sensible women, many of the leading men and a large majority of the young folks are its outspoken advocates.
    But here we are at Jacksonville, amid a host of friends. Preparations for the marriage of Charley Nickell, of the Times, and Miss Ella Prim, of her mother's millinery store, are going grandly on, and everybody is busy. There is to be one  vacant evening, however, before the great event, and our friends decide that we must give another lecture before departing for Portland. So the announcement is made for Tuesday evening, and we occupy the intermediate time in receiving and returning calls, packing wardrobe, writing letters, and taking mental note of all that is going on.
    The moat gratifying feature of the success of the woman movement is noticeable in the work women are doing to render themselves financially independent of the protecting sex. Mrs. Evan Reames and Miss A. Ross, estimable daughters of General Ross, who is a well-known Woman Suffragist, and of course has sensible children, are engaged in keeping a handsome ladies' bazaar next door to the United States Hotel, which is also kept by a woman. Mrs. Howard, Mrs. Karewski, Mrs. Cardwell and Mrs. Ryan are also engaged in trade, and are making their business successful. The New State Hotel, kept by Mrs. Savage, has been lately reopened; and Miss Addie Klippel, a young lady of fine attainments, is assistant County Clerk in her father's office. While all women in business may not know that their opportunity to engage in lucrative and honorable employment is the result, more or less directly, of the movement for woman's enfranchisement during the past decade, it is very certain that the wisest of them are awakening to the fact and becoming quite brave in proclaiming it.
    Foremost among the praiseworthy institutions of Jacksonville is the district school, of which Professor Merritt is principal and Mr. Hubbell and Miss Godfrey assistants. Accompanied by our ever-ready and capable friend, Mrs. Plymale, we made this school a visit on Monday, and we confess surprise that so good a public school, one so perfect in order, grading and general management, and withal so largely attended, should be found in a district so remote from rivers, seas and railroads. Professor Merritt inspires his school with the utmost confidence in his ability and integrity. The other teachers naturally catch the power to do likewise, and the pupils obey for the love of doing right and to please others rather than from fear of compulsion, or the prospect of personal reward. To this school more than all else may be attributed the moral and mental growth among the youth of Jacksonville, by whom we have been treated this time during our entire visit with the utmost courtesy and respect. Their example has also been communicated to older men, not one of whom has offered us any sort of indignity on the streets or elsewhere. We hear of the vicious sayings of certain wire-toothed protectors of our sex, and of other underhand but unsuccessful machinations to prevent the people from attending the lectures; but it's all right. No harm has been done, and it would be expecting more than human nature can bear to look for their quiet acquiescence in the present triumph of our cause without a growl or grimace, when it is impossible for them to forget their shameful conduct two years ago.
    The self-styled "representative men" of this place consist in great part of an associated ring of genuine Democrats and pseudo-Republicans, who ostensibly differ in politics but are really a unit in political purpose, each being afraid of the other, but all clinging together in times of a common danger, whether of real or imaginary existence, without the least regard to principle or personal opinion. But this ring, already small, is constantly growing smaller and weaker. It cannot run the town as it once did. and its best members are as restive as they dare to be under the collar they once wore with contentment. New Jacksonville; with its healthy young blood, its well-trained boys and girls and its many citizens who will wear nobody's collar, is stepping firmly to the front and rapidly redeeming Old Jacksonville from its former unenviable notoriety. The men who figured in the former riot still muzzle the press to a great extent, but their fangs have been extracted, and nothing remains to comfort them but the memory of their bygone glory, which was as evanescent as unsatisfying.
    The little boys called upon us sometimes in companies of a dozen or more, and conducted themselves like perfect gentlemen during their visits. The little girls and young ladies also called in groups, inspiring us to new endeavor by their brilliant chat and earnest enthusiasm.
    The farewell lecture brought out a crowded house. Prominent among the multitude were the elder members of Professor Merritt's school, who by special invitation occupied front seats and accorded the entire proceedings the most deferent attention.
    At the close of the lecture, a committee of ladies, consisting of Mesdames Plymale, Kenney, Cardwell, Dowell and Holt, invited about fifty of the ladies and gentlemen who had treated our mission with respect and ourself with special courtesy, to attend a social reception.in Madame Holt's public parlor. After an hour spent in hand-shaking; social conversation, merriment, and singing, the dining room doors were opened and the company sat down to a handsome collation, given by the above-named ladies, as they explained, "In honor of the Jacksonville brass band, Woman Suffrage and Mrs. Duniway." Among those present were Messrs. Smith and Smith, Walters, Hanna, Eggert, Luy and Plymale, of the band; Hon. R. Williams, of Portland; Superintendent and Mrs. Cronemiller, of the Fort Klamath Indian Agency; and the following ladies and gentlemen of Jacksonville: Mrs. Dr. Kahler, Mrs. Bilger, Mrs. Howser, Mrs. Karewski, Miss Issie McCully, Miss Minnie Ruggles, Miss Dora Godfrey, Miss Laura Hubbell, Miss Anna Dowell, Miss Annie Bilger, Miss Celia Levy; the Misses Sallie, Della, Rosie and Laura Cardwell; Mrs. Ulrich, Miss Lillie Ulrich, the Misses Fannie and Katie Plymale, Miss Celia Karewski, Miss Dora Elliott, Mrs. D. Cardwell, Miss Anna Dowell, Mrs. Thomas Kenney, Professor Kugler, Mr. J. A. Cardwell, Mr. D. Cardwell, Professor Andrew Hubbell, and others.
    We were much impressed during this reception with the importance of thoroughly cultivating the social element in connection with the suffrage movement. Thomas A. Benton confesses in his great work, entitled "Thirty Years in the United States Senate,'' that it was the social power of women that elected General Harrison in 1840 and changed the current of American politics forever after. Let all the young ladies who read this resolve at once that they will make the movement socially popular among their gentlemen friends, every one of whom is a voter.
    After the reception was over, we fell asleep at a late hour and dreamed that all the girls in Oregon were holding Women Suffrage levees and all the men were acquiescent and happy.
    The following forenoon found us aboard the stage, homeward bound, our traveling companions a couple of commercial travelers and the Rev. Mr. [W. T.] Chapman, of whom we made favorable mention last week, and who, as we afterwards learned, in now Presiding Elder of the Southern Oregon District, and his present mission is holding quarterly meetings. But he moped, and pouted, and pretended to be reading a novel, and wouldn't speak except as we'd compel him by a direct question that he couldn't help answering, conducting himself so moodily withal that it was a genuine relief to everyone when we reached Grant's Pass and dropped him.
    "Who is he, anyway?" asked one.
    "A Methodist preacher," we answered, quietly.
    "Well, well. I'd never shoot him for a preacher, if I was hunting preachers for game," said the other.
    "Reading Middlemarch and serving the Lord!" exclaimed the first. "Wonder if he reads novels for their sentiment or their style."
    "He couldn't read at all, for the motion of the stage wouldn't let him," still the other. "He only pretended to read to keep from speaking to Mrs. Duniway."
    "Why, gentlemen," we replied, "I like him, and he can't help it! I wrote him up for last week's paper
    "I heard him tell the stage agent to put him outside if you rode inside, and vice versa," was the ingenuous reply.
    "He needn't feel alarmed. I wouldn't hurt him; though I have been called a terror to evil-doers several times that I remember. Wonder what ails him?"
    "He said, back at the last station when we stopped to change horses, that he didn't like you because you had once accused him of locking a hall or church against you when he was two hundred miles away."
    The mystery was explained. We let the matter rest and rode on, repenting deeply that we had imposed on the public by speaking well of a man in print whom we had afterward weighed in the balance and found wanting.
    The stage did not halt long enough to give the passengers dinner till six p.m. Then we stopped at Leland at the well-kept wayside inn of Mrs. Carll, whose husband is division agent on the route, and who keeps up her half of life's endeavor to make a living in a royal way. We hope her husband, whom we did not meet, believes in equal rights.
    Oh, how long the hours were after dinner, and how the miles did stretch away toward infinitude! The jolting grew intolerable. A couple of drummers had the outside seat, and neither would exchange to give us a little rest. Nine o'clock, and Levens' station. Here we stopped over for twenty-four hours, from sheer inability to go further. A racking headache banished sleep, and bruised bones banished rest. The next day was spent in dreamy solitude beside a generous fire. The only thing we did was a little writing, and among the little was the following letter to Presiding Elder Chapman:
    Sir:--The surprise--not to say indignation--with which I
have regarded your conduct toward me on every occasion since our first pleasant meeting (of which a handsome record to your credit is in print in this week's issue of the NEW NORTHWEST) was melted into pity when, after you left the stage yesterday, I learned its imaginary cause. Would it not be well for a minister of the Gospel of Jesus lo ascertain from "headquarters" whether or net there to truth in idle gossip before he publicly traduces his lady friend to a stage agent because of it, and purposely mopes in her presence prevent explanation, and peddles his imaginary grievance behind her back in symmetrical travelers? Whoever told you that fever mentioned your name in print until this week's issue lied. I never met you until the day we went to Ashland, and do not think I ever heard of you till then. I am sorry to be compelled to beg pardon of the public in my next editorial letter for having called you a gentleman in my last one.
    For further particulars, please see 
NEW NORTHWEST of this week and next. Yours for truth and justice,
    Nine p.m., and stage time again. We are not able to ride, but must hurry on. The obliging landlord attempts to secure us the outside seat; but it is doggedly held by two voters, neither of whom will give way, although we politely assure them that if they were sick and we well, we'd gladly do anything in our power for their comfort. They do not even grunt a4 reply, and we climb inside, cheered by the courageous remark of the landlord, who exclaims, indignantly, "You can't help it, madam, if some men are born hogs, with bristles on their backs."
    Our preacher is again aboard; but it is our turn to be silent now, which is easy enough, for we know he'll get our letter at Canyonville; and may it do him good during the remainder of his days, which we hope will be long in the land where he labors as a missionary of the gospel of charity that "thinketh no evil."
    We close our eyes and ponder long over the beautiful valley of the Rogue River that is left far behind us. We anticipate the approaching era of railroads with satisfaction, and respectfully decline to incommode the "protectors of women'' when one of them gets ashamed of his selfishness and offers to exchange and favor us with the outside seat.
    Midnight, and Canyonville. There is a sick woman in the stage, and we forget our own weariness in the futile endeavor to make her comfortable. The preacher leaves the stage at this place, and we two are alone till daybreak.
    Now we approach Roseburg. The full-orbed moon, that has proudly rode the arching heavens through the entire night, grew deathly pale, and the morning star glides proudly up the blue horizon and hangs like an electric lamp above the undulating hills. The driver cracks his whip with a grand flourish, the jaded horses quicken their pace, the voters on the outside seat shiver with the cold, and with a combined rattle, crash and rumble, we dash up to the post office and alight at the terminus. Thank Heaven!
    Roseburg is taking its morning nap, all heedless of the resplendent glories of exultant nature that abound on every hand. We shiver for hall an hour beside the bar-room stove, and creep away to bed just as the sun gets up and stirs abroad in his trappings of gold upon his chariot of fire.
    We sleep for three hours, and then descend to breakfast, after which the remaining day is spent with Mrs. Owens in visiting at her pleasant home and calling upon other genial friends, of whom we recall the names of Mesdames Jones, Hoover, Perkins, Carroll, Engle, Frazer, Gilliland, Stevens, Owens Sr., Jones Jr., and Messrs, Abraham, Owens, Engle, Stevens, Marks and Kelly, all of whom are advocates of equal rights, and of course good allies of the undersigned. Sorry we cannot remain in Roseburg for a week or two. Everybody is on the qui vive for lectures, and all have been expecting us to stop over. But we're too tired for field work now, and the Suffrage Convention is so near at hand that we cannot tarry. So, at 5 a.m. we are off again, our destination Portland-on-the-Willamette and home.
A.S.D. [Abigail Scott Duniway]
    P.S.--We don't often add a postscript, but will just once, for the reason that we forgot to mention at the proper time a fact that ought to have an airing. Mr. L. Samuels, of the West Shore, was out in Southern Oregon a few weeks ago, and while canvassing for his publication, remarked to one of our patrons, who incidentally mentioned two Portland papers he was taking, that the NEW NORTHWEST was "a sweet-scented paper, truly, to have in a family!" Whereupon our subscriber, who is a gentleman of intelligence and honor, demanded his reason for such an assertion, and Mr, Samuels failed to specify further than to complain that we had once written up an insulting Brigadier General of militia, and had called a persecuted woman chaste, and had thereby wronged her husband! This same Samuels slandered the NEW NORTHWEST at Phoenix in presence of one of its lady subscribers, and was roundly rebuked therefor. Last spring a lady told me at another town that this high-toned journalist had recommended his paper at her house, and when she, thinking he meant the NEW NORTHWEST, remarked that she "had often thought of taking Mrs. Duniway's paper," he proclaimed the West Shore as such to induce her to subscribe for it. If this be legitimate journalistic business, may we be spared from entering its purely odorless field forevermore! Amen!    A.S.D.
    Portland, October 11, 1881.

New Northwest, Portland, October 13, 1881, page 1

    Mrs. A. S. Duniway arrived in Ashland Sunday morning, and on Monday evening lectured to a large audience in the M.E. church. Tuesday evening she started for Portland in order to reach home for a Thanksgiving family reunion. She will start soon for Chicago, upon a business visit to that city.

"Personal," Ashland Tidings, November 28, 1884, page 3

    LECTURE BY MRS. DUNIWAY.--Mrs. A. S. Duniway, the pioneer and the still foremost advocate of woman suffrage in Oregon, addressed a large audience in the Ashland M.E. church last Monday evening. She gave a succinct review of the woman suffrage movement in Oregon and Washington Territory, presenting in strong light the triumph in Washington, and analyzing the causes of defeat in our own state. In summing up the results of the vote upon the proposed amendment to the constitution of Oregon, she spoke of it as a gain for the cause that the women who are demanding the ballot can now point to their backing of 12,000 of the present legal voters of the commonwealth who were willing to accede to the demand--a support which had been lacking till last June. The record of the vote in Washington Territory at the recent election, in which a third of the whole number of ballots were cast by women, was presented as complete refutation of the assertion so persistently made by opponents that "the women don't want to vote, and wouldn't if they could." Mrs. Duniway urges the friends of equal rights to continue their labors, and explained that petitions are being circulated throughout the state asking the legislature to provide for the submission of the amendment to the citizens of the state at a special election, so that the question may be decided upon its own merits, without suffering from the distracting and belittling effect of the issues and animosities of a general election. Copies of these petitions have been left for signatures in this part of the state, and will be circulated in time to be forwarded to the legislature. Mrs. Duniway held the close attention and awakened the interest of the audience, as she always does, with her forcible presentation of argument and her keen satire and wit.

Ashland Tidings, November 28, 1884, page 3

    Mrs. Abigail Scott Duniway, editor of the New Northwest, was in Jacksonville several days this week. She lectured at Holt's hall to a large audience on Wednesday evening. She is also taking orders for the famous picture "The Coronation of Womanhood," which contain in its unique design splendid lithograph portraits of many of Oregon's most distinguished men who voted for the Woman Suffrage Amendment. She lectured at Phoenix last night, and will also lecture at Medford tomorrow (Sunday) night.
"Local Items," Oregon Sentinel, Jacksonville, June 27, 1885, page 3

    Mrs. A. S. Duniway delivered the oration at Josephine on the Fourth.
"News of the Northwest," Oregonian, Portland, July 12, 1887, page 6

Last revised April 12, 2023