DELLA FOX
[Illustration: Copyright, 1894, by J. B. Falk, Waldorf-Astoria, N. Y.
DELLA FOX.]
It was a dozen or fifteen years ago that the hard-working organization
known as the Bennett and Moulton Opera Company was a frequent visitor to
the small cities and large towns of New England. It played week stands
with daily matinees, and it was, more than likely, the pioneer to flaunt
in the theatrical field the conquering banner of "ten, twenty, thirty."
I have every feeling of gratitude toward the Bennett and Moulton Opera
Company, for it introduced me, at the modest rate of ten cents per
introduction, which small sum purchased the right to sit aloft in the
gallery, to all the famous old-time operettas,--"Olivette," "The
Mascotte," "The Chimes of Normandy," and others.
As I recall the annual performances of this obscure troupe, they were
surprisingly good. At least, so they seemed to me, and I can laugh even
now at the excruciatingly funny fellow who sang the topical song, "Bob
up Serenely" in "Olivette." There was also a curious dance, I remember,
that went with the song,--a spreading out simultaneously of arms and
legs in jumping-jack fashion,--and we boys thought it vastly amusing. We
clapped and stamped and whistled, and kept the poor comedian at work as
long as our breath held out and long after his had gone.
The last time that I saw the Bennett and Moulton Opera Company was in
"Fra Diavolo," and the prima donna--the term seems ridiculous and absurd
as I think of the person to whom it is applied--was a golden-haired
little creature, wonderfully ample, tremendously in earnest, and
strangely fascinating, a dainty slip of a girl, who seemed, in truth,
only a child. I can see her now as she sat on the edge of the bed in
the chamber scene, unfastening her shoes, singing very sweetly and very
expressively her good-night song, all unconscious of the bold brigands
who were watching the proceedings from their places of concealment. She
charmed me as no singer in light opera ever had before, and the
impression that she made upon me has never been lost. The child was
Della Fox, of whom at that time no one had ever heard--Della Fox in the
humblest of surroundings, but to me more fascinating than in any of the
brilliant settings that have since been hers.
I did not see Della Fox again until 1890, when she was playing Blanche
in "Castles in the Air" with DeWolf Hopper. She had changed greatly in
the few years, though far less than she has since the days of "Castles
in the Air," "Wang," and "Panjandrum." Her appealing, unsophisticated
girlishness had gone, and in its place was self-possession and
authority. She was charming in her daintiness, provoking in her
coquetry, a tantalizing atom of femininity. Her archness was not bold
nor unwomanly, and her vivacity was well within the bounds of refinement
and good taste. Her singing voice, too, was musical, though not over
strong.
Della Fox was born in St. Louis on October 13, 1872. Her father, A. J.
Fox, was a photographer, who made something of a specialty of theatrical
pictures; and thus Della's babyhood was passed, not exactly in the
playhouse atmosphere, perhaps, but certainly in an atmosphere next door
to that of the greasepaint and footlights. Her experience on the stage
began when she was only seven years old as the midshipmate in a
children's "Pinafore" company, which travelled in Missouri and Illinois
for a season. She was an astonishingly precocious child, and many
persons who watched her shook their heads and predicted that her talent
had ripened too early, and that, as is the case with many promising
stage children, she would never amount to anything.
Apparently this midshipmate experience firmly established in Miss
Della's childish mind the intention to become an actress. Her parents,
however, succeeded in keeping her in school for a few years longer,
though she appeared in several local performances where a child was
needed. When she was nine years old, for instance, she acted for a week
in St. Louis the child's part in the production of "A Celebrated Case"
of which James O'Neill was the star, and she was also at one time with a
"Muldoon's Picnic" company. Her first real professional experience,
however, was obtained with an organization known as the Dickson Sketch
Club.
This was gotten up by four St. Louis young men, W. F. Dickson and W. G.
Smythe, both of whom became prominent theatrical managers, Augustus
Thomas, the playwright, and Edgar Smith, the author of several Casino
pieces, and at present writer-in-ordinary to Weber and Fields. Mr.
Thomas made a one-act play of Mrs. Frances Hodgson Burnett's story,
"Editha's Burglar," and the company also appeared in a musical farce
called "Combustion." Della Fox was the Editha in the play and the
soubrette in the musical piece, while Mr. Thomas acted Bill Lewis, the
burglar, and Mr. Smith was Paul Benton. Miss Fox's impersonation of
Editha was, according to report, very good indeed. At any rate, the
success of the play was sufficient to encourage the author to expand it
to three-acts. The result was "The Burglar," one of the first plays in
which Mr. E. H. Sothern appeared as a star. In the three-act version
Sothern acted Bill Lewis, the burglar, and Elsie Leslie was Editha.
Mr. Dickson, who is now connected with the business staff of the
Alhambra in Chicago, referred not long ago to this early experience as
a manager.
"Yes," he said, "that was 'Gus' Thomas's debut as a dramatic author.
'Gus' was in the box office with me at the Olympic in St. Louis, and he
managed to find time during the leisure moments when he was not selling
tickets to scribble ideas in dramatic form. He read me this little
sketch, 'Editha's Burglar,' and asked me to give it a trial. Right
across the street from the theatre lived Della Fox, daughter of a
photographer, a precocious little miss, whose talents were always in
requisition whenever there were any child's parts to be filled at the
theatre. I used to send over for Della whenever there was a little part
for her, and she was delighted to get away from school and skip and trip
before the footlights. After 'Gus' had read the play to me, he suggested
that Della should play little Editha, and as a result I was induced to
put the piece on with the budding author in the principal role. It had
a certain sort of success, and we went on a tour, using 'The Burglar' as
a curtain raiser to another play called 'Combustion,' also from 'Gus'
Thomas's pen. Later 'The Burglar' was produced in New York as a
curtain-raiser to William Gillette's comedy, 'The Great Pink Pearl.'
Gillette himself played the burglar, and Mr. Thomas was encouraged to
expand his sketch into a pretentious three-act play, and it went on the
road, making money for the managers and familiarizing the public with
Augustus Thomas's name."
Next came Miss Fox's connection with the Bennett and Moulton Company,
with which she appeared in the leading soprano roles of all the light
operas,--"Fra Diavolo," "The Bohemian Girl," "The Pirates of Penzance,"
"Billie Taylor," "The Mikado," and "The Chimes of Normandy." Her success
with this minor organization brought her to the notice of Heinrich
Conried, who was getting together an opera company to appear in "The
King's Fool." She was given the soubrette part, and created something of
a stir wherever the opera was given by her singing of "Fair Columbia,"
one of the most popular songs of the piece. From Mr. Conried also she
received about all the real instruction in dramatic art that she had
ever had. When Davis and Locke, who had managed the Emma Juch Opera
Company, decided to launch DeWolf Hopper as a star, they began to look
about for a small-sized soubrette to act as a foil for Mr. Hopper's
great height. George W. Lederer, of the New York Casino, suggested Della
Fox, and accordingly she was engaged and opened with Hopper in "Castles
in the Air" at the Broadway Theatre, New York, in May, 1890.
Her success in this larger field was remarkable, and before the summer
was over she was sharing the honors with Hopper and was just as strong a
popular favorite as he. Her Blanche was a delightful creation
throughout, but best remembered is the "athletic duet" in which she and
Hopper gave amusing pantomimic representations of games of billiards,
baseball, and other familiar sports. Her Mataya in "Wang," which was
brought out in New York in the summer of 1891, was another triumph. This
was, perhaps, the most artistic of all her roles. She was cute, impish,
and jaunty in turn as the Crown Prince, and, in addition, was a picture
never to be forgotten in her perfect fitting white flannel suit, worn in
the second act. It was in this act, too, that she sang the famous
summer-night's song, which was whistled and hand-organed throughout the
land.
Next Miss Fox created the principal soubrette role in Mr. Hopper's opera
"Panjandrum," in which she continued to appear until she made her debut
as a star in August, 1894, at the Casino, New York, in Goodwin and
Furst's opera, "The Little Trooper." Her first season was extremely
successful. The next year she was seen in "Fleur-de-lis," another
Goodwin-Furst product. Writing of Miss Fox in this opera, Philip Hale
said:--
"Disagreeable qualities in the customary performance of Miss Fox were
not nearly so much in evidence as in some of her other characters. She
was not so deliberately affected, she was not so brazen in her
assurance. Even her vocal mannerisms were not so conspicuous. She almost
played with discretion, and often she was delightful. Her
self-introduction to her father was one long to be remembered. No wonder
that the audience insisted on seeing it again and again. All in all,
Miss Fox appeared greatly to her advantage."
His criticism of the opera is also interesting:
"It was March 31, 1885, that 'Pervenche,' an operetta, text by Duru and
Chivot, music by Audran, was first produced at the Bouffes-Parisiens.
Mrs. Thuillier-Leloir was the Pervenche, Mauge the Count des
Escarbilles, and Mesnacker the Marquis de Rosolio. The honors of the
evening, however, were borne away by Mr. and Mrs. Piccaluga, who were
respectively Frederick and Charlotte. The opera did not please, and it
ran only twenty-nine nights. Nor has it been revived.
"In the time of Henry the Second, or Henry the Third, two nephews
disputed the right to possess a castle in Touraine that had belonged to
their late uncle, who died without will. Rosolio held the castle, and
Escarbilles tried to dislodge him. By the will, found eventually, the
castle belonged to Rosolio if Frederick, the son of Escarbilles, should
marry Pervenche, the natural daughter of Rosolio.
"The performance was in the main poor, and the music of Audran was not
distinguished, they say. A romance of Frederick, a pastorale Tyrolienne
sung by Charlotte at the end of the second act, and a duet of menders
of faience in the third act, said to be the best of the three, alone
seemed worthy of remark.
"So much for 'Pervenche,' the libretto of which furnished the foundation
for Mr. Goodwin's story and songs. Just how far Mr. Goodwin departed
from the situations furnished by Messrs. Durn and Chivot, I am unable to
say, for I never saw 'Pervenche' nor its libretto. However much he may
be indebted, this can be truly said: he has written an entertaining
book; the plot is coherent, and the situations laughable. The second act
is admirable throughout. The colossal effrontery of the starved Rosolio
in the castle manned by women disguised as soldiers, the reconciliation
of the nephews, the exchange of reminiscences of gay student days in
Paris, the discovery of the imposition, and the renewed
hostilities,--these are amusing and well connected. Furthermore, the
audience at the end of this act realizes at once the need of a third
act, to clear up matters. Now this is rare in operetta of to-day. Even
in the third act the interest never flags, although there was one
dreadful moment, when it looked as though the old 'Mascotte' third-act
business was to be introduced. Fortunately the suspicion was groundless,
and the audience breathed freer and forgot its fears in the enjoyment of
the delightful scenes between Des Escarbilles and the miller, and then
the ghost.
"Not so much can be said in praise of the music. It is the same old
thing that has served in many operettas. There is a jingle, there are
the inevitable waltz tunes that always sound alike. But the music gives
the comedians an excuse for singing and dancing. It thus serves its turn
and is promptly forgotten until another operetta comes, and the hearer
has a vague impression that he has heard the tunes before."
"The Wedding Day," with Della Fox, Lillian Russell, and Jefferson De
Angelis in the cast, was brought out in the fall of 1897, and it revived
to a degree old-time memories of players at the Casino. The opera itself
proved to be of an order of merit recalling "Falka," "The Merry War,"
and "Nanon," the like of which had not appeared for many, many seasons.
The music was ambitious without being dull, and some of the concerted
numbers had genuine musicianly value. The story held its interest fairly
well, though in spots it was too complicated, and at one point in the
third act quite absurd. Still it was an excellent vehicle to display the
talents of the so-called "triple alliance" of comic opera stars. Miss
Fox, who had shown a decided tendency toward stoutness, had trained down
to within hailing distance of her former slender lithesomeness, and she
made a pretty and attractive bride.
The following season found Miss Fox again an individual star, this time
in "The Little Host." Her last appearances in opera were made in this
piece, for after her season had begun in the fall of 1899, she was taken
seriously ill, and for a long time her death was expected. She recovered
partially, however, after months of illness, and in the spring of 1900
she appeared for a few months in vaudeville. Even this labor proved too
much for her strength, and her friends were compelled to remove her to a
place where she might have perfect rest.