The twenty-fourth president was Grover Cleveland who was elected in 1884, but was defeated in 1888 by Benjamin Harrison, and in 1892 was re-elected and inaugurated March 4, 1893. I did not take an active part in this campaign as I had never sung for a Democratic president and I would not begin with Cleveland. The next president was our beloved McKinley and in the last campaign for him I sang in the Mechanics pavilion in San Francisco to 15,000 people. I was then sixty-four years of age. I was worried a little that age would tell in such a great place, but if I failed it was for a good cause and my country. I consented to sing after much persuasion from Sam Booth and W.H.L. Barnes. I had in all my singing life never failed. I reluctantly consented, trusting to my knowledge of how to use the voice. At the appointed hour I was at the pavilion with Mrs. J.M. Case, my accompanist. When I came upon the platform I was cordially greeted by the old guard, W.H.L. Barnes, Sam Booth and thirty-five other men of the committee whom I had met in former years. After taking in the situation I was a little disturbed when I found the floor had been left for dancing and I was obliged to sing to the tiers of seats that arose as high as I could see and all that empty space to cross and one single voice to reach this great mass of people. For once I felt my voice inadequate for the effort. In the highest row of seats were several of my pupils and they were to give me the signal that my voice and words carried distinctly. I was requested to sing Vive l'America, the old civil war favorite song. I arose when announced amid a most tremendous recognition from the people of San Francisco. I was so excited I forgot my age and began my song. I had sung but one line and on looking up I saw the signal and it aroused me to my best efforts which proved most satisfactory. When I finished the policemen's sticks pounded on the floors, the band gave a grand rally, the people applauded and for many minutes nothing could be heard but the deafening demonstration and a recall was demanded. I sang Millard's Amalia from the Roman Charioteer and finished with the exultant B flat which arose in the softest touch and increased to the fullest crescendo and diminished to the pianissimo. At that moment by a prearranged plan, unknown to me, one of the most beautiful flags that ever floated was unfurled and fell in graceful folds by my side. I involuntarily seized it with my hands and finished amidst one of the greatest receptions ever given to any prima donna in my time, and I felt I was not forgotten by the people of San Francisco whom I had served for twenty-seven years. They gave me the honor to which my age and experience as a singer and patriotic charitable worker in the upbuilding of California and its institutions entitled me. Theodore Roosevelt became president on the death of McKinley. With his victory at the next election he became the twenty-sixth president of the United States. My practical work for the Republican cause ceased then. My voice and spirit still remained but the accident to me in 1901 put an untimely end to my public work. I have sung for Decoration days and Fourth of July demonstrations. My last one was in 1906 at the Macdonough theater and the people of Oakland gave me a befitting tribute. From the speaker and the twenty-five uniformed soldiers who formed a half circle around me to the immense crowd that filled the theater the applause for Vive l'America was spontaneous. I also sang Annie Laurie, the favorite song of every soldier who fought in '61, a song which was on the dying lips of hundreds of soldiers who fell fighting and thinking of their loved ones at home. Can you wonder at the tears coming to the eyes of our veterans when the strain is sung And for bonnie Annie Laurie I'd lay me down and dee. I sing this song with all the sincere feeling and personality that I possess. It is a sacred song to me for I have heard the story many times as told by the veterans since the war. After this final tribute of my career The Oakland Herald had this to say next day: "The beautiful simplicity of Mrs. Blake-Alverson's singing provoked tremendous applause and she responded to the never-to-be-forgotten lines of Annie Laurie." The Enquirer said: "The singing of Mrs. Blake-Alverson was a revelation. It was enjoyed to the utmost. Every note rang clear and pure and each stanza was applauded in a most hearty manner. This was especially true of her rendition of the Star Spangled Banner in which the enthusiasm was unbounded." The effect of the song was heightened by the giving of the ceremony of retreat at sunset which is carried out in every camp and garrison of the army of the United States. The ceremony was conducted by members of Co. A, Fifth Infantry, N.G.C., under the charge of Sergeant Breveton and were as follows: Sergeant A. H. Jones, Sergeant H.B. Ongerth, Musician J.W. Stock, Musician E.J. Dow, Privates Elmer Marsh, F. Keegan, J.C. Bowden, R.L. Nichols, H.B. Loveridge, H. Bond, R. Trethaway.
In a letter to the editor of the Enquirer John Aubrey Jones said: "What an inspiration it was to see and hear Mrs. Blake-Alverson sing. Physically infirm, but vocally strong and pregnant, her pure, limpid birdlike notes thrilled and stirred the soul and tears to the eyes did unbidden come. It was eloquence sublime set to the all-subdivining rhythmical harmony of divine music, rendered by a master whose spirit was enwrapped. The writer felt an uplift in patriotic fervor that was a joyous inspiration and so doubtless did all whose privilege it was to hear and see Mrs. Blake-Alverson sing."
The Oakland Tribune said: "The singing of the Star Spangled Banner by Mrs. Blake Alverson and the oration delivered by Rev. Charles R. Brown proved the chief features of the Fourth of July celebration held in the Macdonough theater yesterday morning. Judge E.M. Gibson presided. Prayer was by Rabbi M. Friedlander. A chorus from Faust by seventy-five singers followed. The Declaration of Independence was read by Attorney Peter J. Crosby. Next Mrs. Blake-Alverson stepped forward upon the stage and reached the flag-draped table surrounded by twenty-five uniformed soldiers, who separated in the center to allow her to approach, then closed as she passed, amid applause which was deafening, and she could do nothing but bow her acknowledgment to the audience. As she sang Vive l'America, in spite of her years, her voice rang out pure and clear. Again and again she was forced to respond to encores and when Judge Gibson finally led her off the stage she was repeatedly cheered."
I do not think I would have done quite so well had it not been for an incident that happened as I stepped upon the stage. When I saw the immense crowd my heart gave one throb and I thought I had made a mistake coming there at my age to sing. Like an electric flash I took in the situation and said within me, "Dear Lord, help me once more," and in answering to the repeated cheers I glanced downward to the men in the orchestra and to my surprise saw their looks of sarcasm as if to say, "What can that old woman do?" In one instant my patriotic spirit was roused within me and I gave them a look of defiance and said within myself, "I'll show you boys what she can do," and nodded to the pianist to begin. It took just one line of Vive l'America to make them sit up and take notice. Every eye was turned upon me, the leader sat back in his chair and folded his arms and never moved only to applaud with all the rest between each stanza and continued to do so until the song was completed, and then I received a rally from all, tributes of flowers and tri-colored ribbons floating in graceful loops from them. I responded with Annie Laurie, and the perfect attention with which it was received was most affecting, and I was fully repaid for my efforts, old as I was. I had won the battle nobly and to the people of Oakland I give my heartfelt thankfulness for their appreciation of my efforts to please them in legitimate song and show my loyalty. More honors awaited me at the close of the exercises. As I stepped from my dressing room there awaited me many prominent men and women who came back of the stage to greet me and take my hand. Among them were Rabbi Friedlander, Major Sherman, Alfred Wilkie, Judge Gibson, Rev. Dr. Brown, members of the different committees, unknown to me. About thirty minutes later, when I left for my carriage, I found to my surprise that the sidewalk in front of the theater was crowded with men, women and children, awaiting my coming. It was with difficulty that I reached my carriage. I must needs take the hands of these well-pleased people who wished to thank me. Through the efforts of Mr. John T. Bell I entered the carriage and was driven to the Hotel Touraine, where a banquet had been prepared. When I arrived the committee and members of the chorus were seated at the tables. I was escorted to the table at the end of the hall, decorated with blossoms, flags and streamers and twelve uniformed soldiers standing guard. During the banquet the band played patriotic airs and afterward there were short speeches by prominent men. At the close of the banquet the master of ceremonies asked the assemblage to rise and give a tribute of three cheers for Mrs. Blake-Alverson, the patriotic singer of Oakland. This was given with a will and the band played America in which we all joined. With this song the celebration was over and my career as a public singer for sixty-five years for the people of California in the Golden State by the Golden Gate of the Far West, the grandest state of all the galaxy of states, was ended.
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While this closed my public life, as far as these holiday observances went, I did not give up my music altogether, as I had no other way to support myself and was still in possession of my voice and my ability to teach was established. I went right on in the even tenor of my way and did what I could toward making it possible for my pupils to take a place with those who had succeeded in the beautiful art of music and song. I had now taught in Oakland fifteen years and felt no uneasiness as to the result, so I went bravely on doing what I could. My friends, the soldiers of the G.A.R., felt their memorials and installations were not complete without their Daughter of the Regiment who had never denied them since 1861. Persons make a mistake who think they cannot do much if they fail in the great achievements of life, but I contend that the small things are not to be despised. I shall not be able to put one-sixteenth part of my engagements in this book, but I will illustrate with the G.A.R. and tell how often I have sung for that organization alone. The reader will then realize the amount of work I have done for churches, fraternal societies, missions, art classes, sewing classes, functions of all kinds, club functions, singing classes, holiday festivals, assistance to the young people of the societies and Sunday schools of the churches with which I was identified, guilds, charitable institutions and private affairs. Had I not kept a diary for all these years I never would have known the vast amount of work a person could do in a short life.
From 1861 until 1864 I did not keep a diary, but saved programmes of special events. When the war started we were constantly doing something for the soldiers. I will tell of an episode which convinced me that the power of song is more lasting than we realize. When the wounded men were brought home to the hospitals the different church choirs were sent to sing for the sick and the dying, and at the funerals. It seemed that each Sabbath afternoon I was administering to the needs of the sick and wounded men. In 1862 I returned to California and lived in Santa Cruz, San Francisco, Stockton and Oakland. I was the honored guest of the Appomattox Post, Captain Thomas commanding, on April 26, 1894. It was the yearly visit to inspect the Old Soldiers' Home at Yountville. Mr. Arbuckle and many of the officers of the G.A.R. were in the party. I was to give the old veterans some of the old melodies they loved. We had a full quartette of musical people from the different posts, and when we arrived the large hall was filled with the veterans. When my name was called upon the programme it was impossible to begin until they had given vent to their enthusiasm. I was in excellent voice and with my patriotic spirit stirred I sang with a determined will to please once again, and I certainly received a full return of appreciation.
After the concert a reception was held and I greeted them all as they passed in file, and shook hands and received their expressions of pleasure for my songs. After an excellent luncheon we inspected the new kitchen and dining hall recently completed. One of the women, Mrs. Sarah Markwert, and myself inspected the new kitchen and we came to where one of the old veterans was washing the dishes. I said to my friend, "Well, this is splendid, no one need mind washing dishes with all these conveniences." At that moment the old man turned around and with his hands in the dish water said to me, "Shure it's a many a long day since I saw your face." I looked at him in astonishment and said, "My dear comrade, where have I seen you before?" "Shure I was a sorry looking man when you saw me in the hospital in Massachusetts as helpless as a babe." "My dear sir, do you still remember me?" "Do we forget the angels when once they visit us?" Then he went on with his story until he brought the picture back to me as if it were yesterday. Truly I was convinced of the power of song. He had listened to me when sick and wounded and as his mind went back to the days of '61 he still remembered the face and the singer and the song. After bidding him good-bye and thanking him for his long remembrance of me, I turned thoughtfully away. As we came upon the porch of the hospital I passed a middle aged man and I nodded pleasantly and passed him by. As I passed he said, "Are you going to forget your old postman of 120 Charles street, Boston?" I could not reply for a moment, and I looked at him and said, "Are you Charles Blake?" He said, "I am." "What are you doing here, are all the Eastern soldiers here in this place?" "No," he replied, "Only two or three of us." "I was speaking to one just now in the kitchen who remembered me." "Oh, yes, Patrick, he was in the same place I was." "How did you happen to come here?" I asked him. "My letter pouch became too heavy for me to carry and I asked to be sent here, and I expect to remain the rest of my life." Truly, wonders will never cease, said I, as we left him and went to the sick room. There we saw rows of beds all occupied except three or four. At the head of the stairs we stopped to speak to the old veteran and inquired of his health. He said, "My days are short and I am ready to go at any time now." I said, "You were unable to hear the music today?" "Yes," he said, "I thought once or twice I could catch a sound of it, but I could not tell." I asked him if he liked music and he said, "Very much, and I wanted to hear the singer today for I had heard her sing before I got bedridden, when she was a young woman, and I was so sorry to have missed it." I said, "What song would you like best to hear, now that you are sick, if you could hear anyone sing?" "The song I have in my mind now is Nearer, My God, to Thee." I took his wasted hand in mine and stood at the head of his bed and sang to him and to all the sick in the ward. After I had finished a silence was o'er all, save a sob or two from those who were deeply affected by the song. The nurse approached and asked me if I would sing Rock of Ages for one veteran who was lying at the other end of the ward. I complied and when I had finished these poor afflicted men wanted to thank me, so I passed from one bed to another and said a parting word to each, and as I passed the bed of the old dying man, on my return, he said with tears, "I shall not forget the song or the singer. The memory of both will go with me to the gates of Paradise. I'll not forget, good-bye." He lingered for another week, they told me, and his last words were from the hymn, Nearer, My God, to Thee.
I have felt it my sacred duty to always answer the call of the soldier. It began in 1861 and has always been listened to by me since. I have sung at many exercises, at the Memorial exercises, which began in 1880, I sang for the George Thomas Post. On January 18, 1885, I was at the installation of post officers. Memorial day of that year I sang at the Metropolitan hall, San Francisco. In 1886 I sang in the same auditorium, which was packed, and I sang there again in 1887. In 1888 I sang for the W.R. Cornman Post, No. 57, San Bernardino. On January 5, 1889, installation exercises, and on January 30, 1889, G.A.R. camp fire for veterans, I sang at San Bernardino. Returning to San Francisco, I sang at the installation exercises in May, 1889, on Memorial Day. On September 3, George Thomas Post concert in aid of veterans' families. In 1890 I sang at the Sabbath service in the Methodist Church for veterans. On May 30, Congregational Church, Oakland, to a great congregation. Music was furnished by thirty picked voices. Alfred Wilkie sang the Sword of Bunker Hill; Vive l'America, and Tender and True were sung next. As Captain Thomas remarked, this song was sung by the same singer in 1861, twenty-nine years before, when the war was on, and once again to commemorate the brave who died. On March 6, 1894, I participated at a grand rally and musical of Lyon post and corps. On March 15, at Appomattox corps and post concert; April 23, G.A.R. reception, Congregational Church, Edwin C. Seymour and General W.H.L. Barnes, speakers, Mrs. Blake-Alverson, vocalist. On April 24, reception of G.A.R. at Mills Tabernacle, Governor Markham and staff present. The building was densely crowded and the enthusiasm was marked. The band played the national anthems. I sang the Star Spangled Banner and Annie Laurie amid the cheers and tremendous applause of veterans and others present. On April 26 the Yountville yearly visit to the Soldiers' Home was made by the Appomattox posts and a concert was given and a general inspection of the home was held. On May 8, 9, and 22 were days of receptions and entertainments to raise funds. On May 30 I sang in the Methodist Church, Berkeley. On June 14 I sang at the tenth anniversary of Appomattox Post and on June 15 anniversary of Lyon Corps and banquet. On July 19 I sang at reception of G.A.R. officers and their families who had assembled from other California cities and the East. August 6, September 1, 4, 22, Admiral Porter Post No. 169, Lyon Post, Cole. E.D., Baker Camp No. 5; October 25, National Guard of California; November 16, Flags of all Nations concert; December 11, Lyon Corps entertainment. In 1895, January 3, 8, March 13, May 30, July 4, July 9, 31, September 11, November 13, were days of installation, memorials, processions of importance, bazaars and concerts. In all I participated.