ON THE ROAD WITH DICK KOHLER, MR. VIVIAN, WALTER CAMPBELL, MR. WAND AND CHARLES ATKINS
N 1876, I signed a six weeks' agreement with the Vivian Kohler Troupe to tour Oregon, Victoria and the cities on Puget Sound. We sailed from San Francisco on February 24 on the steamer City of Panama. Our party was made up of six people: Mr. Dick Kohler, the only Vivian, Walter C. Campbell, Margaret B. Alverson, Mr. Wand, pianist, Mr. Charles Atkins, advance agent. We were a goodly company indeed, all up in our parts and anticipating success in our venture. We arrived in Victoria, February 28. As we landed, rockets were sent up and cannons gave forth a deafening roar to inform the people the steamer had arrived, but it was too late for us to disembark, and reluctantly we repaired to our bunks to pass another night on board. Morning came at last and I opened my eyes upon a quiet little bay surrounded by high, rocky mountains, covered with foliage, including tall pines, and in the distance the snow-capped mountains, lighting up the background of the beautiful scene before me. By seven o'clock we were taken ashore in small skiffs to the opposite shore where we were met by our agent, Mr. Atkins, who had arranged for our conveyance to Victoria. After a smart ride of an hour we stopped at the Fayhard Hotel, too early for these slow Englishmen. After a decided rattling at a heavy dark oaken door of an ancient-looking mansion, a dull, grim old Chinese made his appearance, wondering who was disturbing his slumbers at such an early hour. The landlord, a polite little Frenchman, greeted us with many bows and much palaver and popped behind the bar, which motion was not lost on the chilled travelers who called for their favorite and drank with a satisfied smack. I felt like the dog who had gotten into bad company, the saloon being the only room with a fire. After a half hour of waiting we heard the welcome call for breakfast to which we needed no second bidding. I am a victim of sea-sickness and had eaten nothing during the entire voyage except a little gruel, and I leave you to imagine what I did to the delicious breakfast placed before me, served only as Frenchmen can serve. It consisted of fish, chops, steak, rolls, coffee, potatoes and an omelette.
After breakfast I was shown to my room where I had a good view of the town and I found we had been largely billed to appear on Thursday night. We had a day of rest before our first performance. We moved in the meantime to the Colonial Hotel or Driard House, and were shown to a comfortable room with a fireplace, quaint and small, in which a bright fire was burning. The room was cheerful and attractive with many windows. The floors were painted and covered with rugs, bright and warm, and the white French curtains hung as in the days of Napoleon. Mahogany furniture of old fashioned shape added to the strange furnishing which was very attractive, and I felt at home at once. About ten o'clock that morning, Walter Campbell came and escorted me to the cupola of the hotel where we could see the city for miles, a good-sized place, with several prominent buildings and churches and a fine sight of Mount Baker in the distance, covered with snow. After a quarter of an hour we decided to have breakfast and joined the rest of the company and a stranger who was presented to us as Commodore Maury, a pleasant and distinguished-looking man who was a welcome addition to our company and extended us many a courtesy while we were in the city. After breakfast the company separated. I retired to my room and practiced an hour before going to try the voices in the Theater Royal. While in the midst of my practice a queer accident occurred in front of the hotel. A man in a watering cart, in backing up to the sidewalk, turned too abruptly and the traces gave way, the cart turned turtle and the poor horse hung in mid-air. Relief was soon at hand, a dozen or more of the brawny Englishmen righted the position of the animal and all was over and no harm done. After a good laugh everyone went his way. At ten o'clock we strolled to the theater to look it over. The people of Victoria think it is fine. They ought to come to California and pattern after some of our playhouses. It was small, the acoustics bad and the mixtures of colors was as a crazy-quilt to me. The boxes were ludicrous in their attempt at ornamentation. The seats were long benches, upholstered with solferino-colored damask and the scenes were the merest daubs. We did not rehearse in the theater. We returned to the hotel and rehearsed in the parlors for an hour, then each one retired for the night.
At last the first night is over and we have taken the people by storm. The theater is crowded and every number is encored. We have set the town talking and I expect the theater will not hold the people for tonight. House packed. Vivian is the funniest man I ever saw or heard. I nearly choke with laughter. In singing my song in costume tonight, a very pretty and touching incident occurred. Lord Mayor Drummond and family occupied one of the boxes. With them was their grandchild, about three or four years old. When I came out dressed as an old Scotch woman and leading Mr. Kohler, who represented John Anderson my Joe, her clear voice rang out, "Oh, grandpa, can I give my posie to the dear old lady?" By the time I had placed John in the large arm chair they had quieted her and the song proceeded. When the song was finished a silence of death was the only evidence we received, until we were nearly off the stage and the people awoke to the realization that the song was done and the singers gone. Then applause broke like a whirlwind and we were obliged to return three or four times to acknowledge our appreciation. At the close of the performance the Lord Mayor came with his family on the stage with his grandchild to see the dear old lady. I had retired to the dressing room and removed my costume and was ready to go to the hotel. When I came back Mr. Kohler introduced me and pointed me out to the child. She drew back with her posies and said, "Not this lady, the old lady." No persuasion could induce her to give me the bouquet. At last I told her to come with me and I'd show her the old lady. I returned to the dressing room and showed her the cap and other articles of the costume and told her I wore them and I was only playing I was old. She looked at me and drew a long breath, smiled and handed me the posies. I took the flowers from the child and we joined the party who were watching our performance with much pleasure. They asked her if she found the old lady and she replied, "Yes, she only played she was old like grandma." Mayor Drummond complimented me on my song and reminded me that it was his favorite Scotch song. Our first night won for us great recognition. About two o'clock we were serenaded at the hotel by the Victoria band. The company acknowledged the compliment but I remained in my room.
The next day we were taken all over the city and shown the principal features by the Lord Mayor and his family. At two o'clock we returned to his mansion where we had luncheon. After passing several hours pleasantly with his lordship we were brought home in time to rest for the second night's performance, Friday. The house was again packed, enthusiasm ran high and everything on the program was encored. The boxes were filled with beautiful women and their escorts. The morning papers were loud with praises of our selections and how they had been rendered.
The wind and rain had turned into a heavy snow fall. We were due at Nanaimo for the next concert and despite the storm we started and arrived safely Wednesday morning, March 8. We sang in Institute hall and a fine place for sound it was. We had a crowded house and were well received. We were to return to Victoria the following day. The snow was deep and it was cold and blowing hard. Unable to secure an express wagon, we improvised a sleigh and the boys put our things into it and dragged the sleigh to the depot. We boarded the Northern Pacific and started up the Sound. Snow everywhere. The scenery was beautiful. Mount Baker was a lovely sight, just like one solid piece of ice. We arrived in Seattle at one o'clock in the afternoon and went directly to the Cosmopolitan.
Let me quote from my diary. Saturday, March 11th: "Our entertainment last night was given in the cabin of a steamer which had been fashioned into a music hall and it proved a fine place to sing in and we had a packed house in spite of snow and rain. We met with a great reception and one encore after another had to be given. Sunday, 12th. We started for Steillacoom on the steamer Alida and arrived early and were taken to the Harmon House. In the absence of a hall to sing in we gave our concert in the hotel dining-room with a melodeon for our only instrument. We made the best of the situation. All were in good humor and our auditors enjoyed the programme very much. The next morning we left for Olympia. At one o'clock we arrived in Olympia, the capital of Washington Territory, and were taken to the Carlton House. Concert tonight and off for Tacoma tomorrow at eight o'clock."
After the concert was over at Olympia I was surprised to be called back to the auditorium by Mr. Kohler who informed me that some friends wished to speak to me. To my surprise twenty-five persons greeted me and made me welcome. I never knew one of them before, but each one had heard me sing in San Francisco years gone by and was as glad to hear me sing as if we had been old friends. My singing had impressed them so that they desired to know me personally upon hearing me again. Several of them even told me the songs I sang and others the different places and particular concerts where I sang. At this point I wish to say that to me this means the true singer. If the interpretation of the song and the singer leave a memory of pleasant remembrance, then the singer has found the secret of success and earns the reputation that no one can deny or take away from him or her. Riches, influence, envy, jealousy can never buy that which the singer has not. It must rest with the individuality and musical temperament of the artist and the art of giving to the hearer what the writer intended he should give.
At Tacoma we had very comfortable quarters at the Carlton House. As we were coming up the Sound in the steamer Zephyr I was in the cabin asleep. The Sound was rough, I am not a good sailor, and how long I slept I know not, but I awoke with a start and a loud report greeted my ears. As I opened my eyes I saw the white faces of women and children and steam filling the cabin. In my bewilderment I was really frightened. All this must have taken place in a moment, for I had not time to fully awaken when the members of our troupe hastily entered enquiring for Mrs. Blake, is she hurt, etc. Well the Tacoma concert is also a thing of the past and we left many friends in consequence of our good work. Now we are off for Portland, Oregon. March 17th, St. Patrick's Day. Our concert last night was a bouncing one. The beautiful theater was packed and we were received royally and the morning papers were loud in our praise. We are having rain this morning. Being St. Patrick's day our house was not packed, but comfortably filled. Of course we had an Irish programme which was just the right key note and the people gave us a hearty reception and many recalls. After the concert, friends came in carriages and took us to the St. Patrick's ball given by the upper class of Irish citizens. It was my first experience at an Irish ball. I did not retire until two o'clock in the morning, pretty well convinced that the Gaelic dancers are people to enjoy their fun to the utmost. March 18th. At the matinee this afternoon a very laughable episode occurred. After singing the second encore there was a fine bouquet thrown on the stage for me. It failed to reach but fell in the orchestra. A nice looking and well groomed gentleman quickly jumped over and caught the bouquet and sent it upon the stage with a bow and a smile. As he attempted to return he fell headlong. Such a laugh went up! It was funny to see him sprawling on the floor in full dress. The cheers and laughter were so uproarious I was obliged to stop until they had subsided. He turned to the audience and made a profound bow, then we proceeded with the programme. This evening's concert was a success from start to finish.
Sunday, March 9th. Having met some pleasant people in our travels, Mrs. Baxter of Tacoma, Mrs. Gaten of Portland, and a friend of mine, Mrs. Kilbourn, we were enabled to see more of the places of interest during our stay in Portland. At ten o'clock our friends arrived at the hotel and in a smart conveyance we were soon enjoying the brisk morning air. Our destination was a Sisters' Hospital. After an hour's ride we alighted in front of this spacious, comfortable-looking building which proved to be St. Joseph's Hospital. We were welcomed by Sister Josephine who guided us all over the place, the dormitories, dining room, halls and corridors. Everything was kept in the neatest order. At last we stopped in front of the chapel. The place was partially lighted, showing the altar of white and gold, the brass candlesticks and vases of marble filled with roses. The altar was draped with white linen and pink silk linings and lace frills. A soft pink light pervaded the place, which gave it an ethereal appearance and filled me with solemn awe as I turned away. The day had begun very fair but when we returned to the hotel the rain was in full force. After dinner our friends called again and we were taken to their beautiful mansion where we met a company of eight very interesting persons, and with pleasant repartee and some good music we enjoyed the hours until ten o'clock when we were once more returned to the hotel and, tired out from our day's adventures, sleep soon claimed us. Monday, the 20th, we gave our last concert and we had a most magnificent reception and a crowded and enthusiastic house. Vivian was in great form and his "Ten Thousand Miles Away" and "Where's Rosanna Gone" took the house by storm. Walter and I received our share of glory as did Mr. Wand and Mr. Kohler. Thus ended our three nights and one matinee in Portland, Oregon. Left Portland for Oregon City and arrived about six o'clock in the evening. The scenery here is magnificent. The city is one long street, the valley is not wider than to allow one street and two rows of railroad tracks, then comes the Willamette river and across that the canal and the high mountains again. Above the Imperial Mills are the Willamette Falls. As I stood within several feet of the falls I looked on the scene below the large mills, the canal, mountains, the small quaint town. We could see the boats in the canal unloading their freight. The Cliff House was the only hotel; not attractive but well kept. Our house was not well filled; the mill men were angry at a dollar admission so remained away and missed the fun for their pains.
Next morning we left for Salem. The trip was beautiful in the extreme. The scenery was wonderful, rocks covered with moss of every shade made a picture gorgeous to behold. Arrived in Salem at eleven o'clock in the morning and drove to the Chemeketa Hotel, the largest one in Oregon. We are billed for two nights, then we separate and start for home. The concerts were well patronized and by the best people. Those who generally go wanted circus pieces, therefore the grouch and thin houses. Any one who knew Dick Kohler soon found out that nothing of the cheap sort goes where he is the leader. We started out on a venture on the 24th of February and separated on the 24th of March. I was the only woman in the company and a queen could not have received better attention than I from each member of the troupe. Wherever we remained Mr. Kohler reminded the people I should have the best. Sometimes we fared badly along the Sound and at the coaling camps the fare was rough and the accommodations uncomfortable. Such occurrences come to all who travel and we were the best natured company, ready for good, bad or otherwise. We were four nights in Victoria, B.C., two nights in Nanaimo, one night in Victoria on our return, two nights in Seattle, one night in Steillacoom, one in Olympia, one in Tacoma, Portland three nights and matinee, Oregon City one night, Salem two nights—nineteen performances.
After all expenses and salaries, Mr. Kohler returned to San Francisco with fifteen hundred dollars clear gain in four weeks. We left Portland for home on the steamer Ajax. But friends in Portland entertained us the last day and in parting came to the steamer and brought papers and magazines to read during the voyage. But as for me, I had no use for anything but the bed. I am not a good sailor. The 26th the snow came down so fast the pilot could not see to take us out. After several hours there was a lull long enough for us to reach the steamer. It was rough crossing the mouth of the Columbia river, the rain and hail followed us for two days out. At last we came in sight of the Golden Gate, and we were home once more. After a pleasant trip, a welcome reception in every city and town in which we sang, our salaries in our pockets and wiser for our experience as entertainers, we were ready to take up the usual routine of our lives and continue to the successful end when traveling days are done for us all. If we had a regret it was at the hour of parting of our goodly company. The good-byes were said on the 24th of March, 1876, and three of the company never met again. To my knowledge all have passed away but Walter C. Campbell and the writer, Margaret Blake-Alverson.