There is a naïve charm about Fuller’s “Arethusa” and his portrait of Mrs. Kimball’s daughter that increases with the years. To come unexpectedly upon a picture of his in some western art gallery or private collection brings a warm glow of pleasure, like meeting an old friend.
Lucy Derby, who had been of the Santo Domingo party, was a favorite with us all. The Derby house, Number 166 Charles Street, was a pleasant one, where I remember delightful entertainments. Lucy’s father, Mr. Elias Derby, was one of Boston’s foremost lawyers. Two of her brothers, Haskett and Richard Derby, became well known, Haskett as a leading oculist of Boston, and Richard of New York. Both were uncommonly handsome men. Richard, who shared Lucy’s social gift, was very popular on account of his professional skill and his great charm. He looked like his maternal uncle, Mr. George Strong, whom I remember as one of the interesting figures of the New York of that time, a collector of Greek coins and a man who labored for the cause of music.
I met the elder Sothern at Lucy’s house, where he was a frequent guest. His chief rôle was Lord Dundreary in Tom Taylor’s “Our American Cousin”, a part Sothern practically created, developing it from the forty-seven lines in the play as originally written. His impersonation of the foolish, indolent British “swell” was one of the cleverest bits of character acting I have ever seen. He told us that one night just as he began the “birds of a feather” story, the actress who supported him gave him an agonized glance and whispered: “You have told that once already!”
He always welcomed an opportunity to play David Garrick as a rest from Dundreary. Sothern was a man of great personal charm, beloved by his friends and that dearest of the actors’ friends, the public. An extract from my journal will show in what high favor he was held by young women devoted to the drama.
March 1st, 1874.
I have to write about one of the most charming people I ever met, Mr. Sothern. I first saw him at a lunch at Lucy Derby’s on February 17th. We arrived at the same time, he opening the door for me. After lunch Miss Ellen Derby asked him if she should introduce him to me.
“To the young lady in the little blue hat? With pleasure.”
I was only able to have a few words with him when L. hurried him away to meet some one else. He is scarcely over forty, about five feet, ten inches tall, a full intelligent head, heavy masses of clinging wavy hair silvered by sorrows. A very fine delicate skin through which the blood mantles at the least excuse, handsome, well-marked features, and eyes with clear blue whites such as one rarely sees except in children, the iris the most sparkling blue I ever saw, great wells of color like nothing in the world but the blue of the Gulf Stream, as we seasick wretches saw it from the old Tybee. Heavy, not too heavy eyebrows and moustache. Friday night we dined with Mr. Tom Appleton and went afterwards to see Sothern as Dundreary; he was funnier than ever. The following Thursday I dined with Millie Townsend to meet him. He remembered me. A charming little dinner; Mr. Sothern was wonderful, but Mr. Appleton, with his utter egotism, usurped too much of the conversation. Sothern did some tricks with a silver water pitcher, which he made
EDWARD ASKEW SOTHERN