John B. Gough Returns to Port: A Temperance Blog Part III (Originally published July 5, 2024)

by Bethany Groff Dorau, Executive Director

John Bartholomew Gough (1817-1886), in (even) later years.

If you missed it, read John B. Gough Part I here and Part II here.

First of all, a correction. The W.T.A.S was not, as I had assumed in the last newsletter, the WOMEN's Temperance Society (though there was one of these also in Newburyport), but the WASHINTONIAN Total Abstinence Society. More on that in a moment.         

Next, a confession. I was in New York this weekend, and after imbibing the best Manhattan in Manhattan followed by a VERY old fashioned Old Fashioned, I felt a certain kinship with John B. Gough. New York City had been his home, after all, before Newburyport, before the wife and child and the temperance pledge and the lecture circuit. I can imagine the pull of the dark alleys of lower Manhattan. I was not on the wagon, clearly, but if I had been, a seat in a worn-down tavern might have tempted me away.

But before John B. Gough could belly up to a Bowery bar, he went for a visit back up to Newburyport.

On May 4, Gough was the opening act for Daniel Kimball in Newburyport. This advertisement ran on May 2.

When last we left our dubious hero, actor, bookbinder, and erstwhile pyrotechnician John B. Gough had taken the temperance pledge, promising to eschew drink, and while relating his tale of woe and degradation, had found the audience moved to tears. A career on stage had long been Gough's goal, and, despite a tipsy trip back to Newburyport and a bender in Boston in March, 1843, Gough seems to been on the straight and narrow, his star on the rise in the popular (and lucrative) temperance speaker circuit.

On May 2, 1845, the Washingtonian Total Abstinence Society (W.T.A.S.) announced a lecture in Newburyport’s Market Hall (where the Firehouse Center for the Arts is today) featuring Daniel Kimball, editor of the Temperance Standard, a Boston newspaper. The Washingtonians were the hottest new development in the temperance world, and their emphasis on the individual "drunkard", in the parlance of the time, suited the stage perfectly. Founded in 1840 in Baltimore, the Washingtonian movement promoted total abstinence, with members relying on sharing their experiences in a mutually supportive environment. Most other temperance organizations of the time focused on larger social and political change, seeing the individual as helpless victim of a societal problem. The Washingtonians, at least in the early years, followed roughly the same format as today's Alcoholics Anonymous, summoning the power of a supportive community to help members abstain completely from alcohol. Because of the element of the individual, supported by sociability, the W.T.A.S. was instrumental in launching the careers of various temperance speakers who, like Gough, relied on the strength of their personal testimony, rather than professional credentials. Along with the doctors, scientists, and politicians that tended to headline the meetings of other temperance societies, the Washingtonians loved a good personal narrative.

And so John B. Gough was invited to open the May 4 meeting of the W.T.A.S. with his unique combination of pathos, humor, and song. It seems to have gone over well, and Gough decided to spend a day seeing some old friends in town. He would return to Boston by train on May 6.

The first sign that something had gone awry appeared on May 10 in the Newburyport Daily Herald. Under the shipping news appeared a public notice from John B. Gough, and below that, another from Jacob Isaac Danforth.

These two notices appeared on May 10 in the Newburyport Herald.

John B. Gough, who had spent his dissipated youth in Newburyport, does not seem to have found the warm welcome he had expected during his brief return. He found himself first accused of failing to pay his debts, and so, to salvage his reputation, Gough announced that he would return to Newburyport to settle up with anyone who could prove a claim against him.

And then, twenty-four-year-old Jacob Isaac Danforth, who was helping his father Rufus at his Washington Street restaurant next to the train station, served John B. Gough a drink (or two, or three), and told a friend, who told a friend.

This 1851 map shows the location of Rufus Danforth's restaurant (R. Danforth, map center, next to the tracks), where his son Jacob was working on May 6.

John B. Gough, whose livelihood depended on not touching the stuff, caught wind of the rumors flying around Newburyport that he had been drinking. These stories were credible, to be fair. He had come to Newburyport two years before to lecture on temperance, having just come off a brandy and oyster bender in Boston, and seems to have rambled incoherently.

Gough marshalled support from the legal team of Dexter Dana of Newburyport and John Ross of Boston, and the trio showed up at the Danforth establishment with a Gough look-alike, asked Danforth if this was the man he had served, and when he hemmed and hawed and then said yes, they revealed their ruse and threatened to sue him for libel unless he immediately printed an apology and swore that he had not seen Gough at his bar.

Danforth, who clearly felt threatened and lacked the resources to fight such a suit, signed the apology, and the resulting retraction was printed in the newspaper on May 9, 1845 and then, in more detail, on the 10.

And then Gough got greedy.

Gough and his team told Danforth that despite his retraction, he would be paying $50 for Gough's legal bills, which would increase by the day if he did not pay up. Danforth, who had already admitted his alleged misidentification, paid the $50. Then, he sat down and wrote his own letter, two pages in all, to the paper.

Jacob Isaac Danforth was listed as a confectioner on Middle Street in the 1849 Newburyport City Directory, while his father is listed as a "restorator (restauranteur)" on Washington and Winter Streets.

"I now ask again, did Mr. Dexter Dana tell me the true purpose for which he wanted my signature, or did he want to make it appear, to operate against me as a liable against Mr. Gough in order to extort for me the sum of $50?... I now leave the matter with a candid public to draw their own conclusions of the actors who performed each his part in this affair."

Poor Jacob Danforth, confectioner, known for his pillowy-soft wedding cakes and his tasty taffy, was out $50 for good. Letters to the paper followed on both sides of the argument, but for the most part, the matter drew to a close.

And then, on September 13, with a certain amount of glee, the Newburyport newspaper carried an article from the New York Express. John B. Gough had vanished.

This notice from the New York Express was republished in the Newburyport Herald and offers a wonderful description of John B. Gough in 1845. He has "long, straight black hair, dark complexion, sharp features...," and was heavily accessorized in gold and carrying a small fortune in cash and gold.

Gough arrived in New York City on September 5, checked into his hotel, dropped his bags, and, nattily attired and flush with cash, went out on the town. It was nearly a week before his wife (he had remarried late in 1843) reported him missing. The disappearance of Gough was national news, another bit of publicity that ultimately made him a household name.

Well, gentle reader, this is embarrassing. We have barely arrived in New York City, and I have come to the end of my allotted space in this fine publication. I fear the many adventures of John Bartholomew Gough will require a Part IV. It's worth it, I promise.