Dispute Over DAvignons Will, 1216 COBJ, Vol. 45, No. 12 Pg. 51
| Author | Frank Gibbard, J. |
Frank Gibbard, J.
Historical Perspectives
One challenge facing an estate planning attorney is the client who wants to leave property to an “unusual” beneficiary. The testator may bypass close relatives in favor of someone whose financial well-being means more to him than they do. If the beneficiary has no connection to those close relatives, the testator is aged and infirm, and the sum involved is considerable, a will contest may result.
Such was the case with F.F. D’Avignon, a prominent physician in frontier Leadville. When he arrived in the Cloud City in 1879, Leadville was at the height of its first mining boom. Dr. D’Avignon’s medical practice and other ventures prospered along with the city. But when the repeal of the Sherman Silver Purchase Act in 1893 led to frontier Leadville’s decline, D’Avignon’s life went into decline as well, ending just two years later under tragic circumstances.
Toward the end of his life, D’Avignon had separated from his wife, Georgine D’Avignon, who had returned to their former abode in Boston without him. When a female friend from Leadville introduced his handwritten will for probate, the estranged wife took notice. The resulting litigation made its way to the Colorado Court of Appeals, and then simmered on remand in county court for years.
D’Avignon’s most famous patient was probably Billy Allen, a man who went gunning for Doc Holliday in a Leadville saloon but quickly found himself on the other end of the barrel. D’Avignon patched Allen up from the ensuing gunshot wound, and in doing so may have inadvertently saved the life of Allen’s shooter as well. The incident is a good place to start the story of Dr. D’Avignon’s stellar reputation, his sad decline and death, and his ill-fated last will and testament.
August 19, 1884: Doc Holliday’s Last Gunfight
John Henry “Doc” Holliday stood at the end of the bar at Hyman’s Saloon in Leadville. Doc was sickly and thin from tuberculosis and pneumonia. He was waiting for a man who had threatened him with a beating, or worse. He had his Colt 41 revolver nearby, perched on a cigar case. He was taking no chances.1
Doc, a legendary gambler and gunslinger, had arrived in Leadville a couple of years earlier. He’d come to Colorado seeking refuge from murder charges in Arizona. The charges resulted from the murder of Frank Stilwell, who died in a hail of gunfire in Tucson—part of the extended aftermath of the famous gunfight at the O.K. Corral in Tombstone.2
The fresh mountain air may also have been recommended to help with Doc’s tuberculosis. But it didn’t do much for him, especially at Leadville’s altitude. In fact, Doc was only three years away from dying of the disease (known then as “consumption”).
At the moment, however, Doc faced a more immediate threat: dying with his boots on. The trouble had begun a few weeks earlier, when angry words passed between Doc and members of a clique surrounding Johnny Tyler, a fellow gambler and enemy from Doc’s days in Tombstone. Doc had been sitting in Hyman’s Bar when several members of Tyler’s gang called on him to draw his gun.3 Doc had to admit he wasn’t wearing one. Though he was still a good shot, Doc knew that killing a man in Colorado could get him extradited to Arizona to face murder charges there before an unfriendly jury. So, he’d adopted a peaceable approach to living in Leadville.
Not even the ruffians in Tyler’s gang would shoot an unarmed man. Doc made his way out of the bar to the sound of their obscene jeering.
After that, more trouble began, this time with Billy Allen. Doc said later he was convinced the Tyler gang put Allen up to harassing him, and that the money involved was just a pretext.4 A few months earlier, flat broke, Doc had borrowed $5 from Allen, a Leadville bartender and erstwhile policeman who carried a gun as part of his security duties at the Monarch Saloon. Now Allen wanted his money back. In fact, he’d been pestering Doc about it for weeks.
In the past few days, the pestering had turned to threats. Allen, a big man, threatened to give the frail and tubercular gambler a beating, or maybe worse. Today was the deadline Allen had given him for repaying the money, but Doc didn’t have it.
Allen’s threats were perhaps unwise, given Doc’s reputation with a pistol. But Allen seemed unconcerned. At around 5:00 p.m., he wandered down Harrison Street, headed for Doc’s hangout at the Hyman Saloon to collect the debt. Though later reports said Allen was unarmed, Doc believed otherwise.
Before he even entered the saloon, Doc saw Allen through the plate glass window. He grabbed his revolver from off of the cigar case. When Allen stepped through the door, he fired.
The first shot missed. Trying to get away, Allen tripped and fell. Then, as he rose to his feet, Doc fired again, at close range. This time, he hit his target. The slug severed an artery in Allen’s right arm.
Allen staggered into the street and fainted. Blood was gushing from his wounded arm. Doc wanted to finish the job, but a bartender restrained him. The sheriff arrived, and Doc was taken to the county jail. It was the last time Doc ever shot a man.
Meanwhile, Allen was transported to his home, where Dr. D’Avignon sewed up his wound. Doctor D’Avignon’s quick actions likely saved Allen’s life—and perhaps Doc Holliday’s too. Had Doc been charged with murder in Colorado, he would have been extradited to Arizona to face the murder charges there.5 A local jury would not be favorably disposed to the fugitive gambler and gunslinger.
As it was, Allen recovered. A jury later acquitted Doc of assault charges from the shooting, leaving him to die in bed with his boots off and receive a proper burial in Glenwood Springs.
November 6, 1895: Death of Dr. D’Avignon
Just over a decade later, Dr. D’Avignon passed away at his...
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