Prickett Desk 2011

of the bonnet modified to accommodate, in this case, a curved ceiling cornice molding, and on the Mead Art Museum example, a rectangular corner beam. The cabinetmaker was working with an established pattern for the basic design, but could make adjustments for architectural dimensions and obstructing features most economically by altering just bonnet elements. Solid scholarship by scholar-curator Morrison Heckscher suggests the cabinet- maker was one of Salem’s most successful, Nathaniel Gould (1734–1781). 11 It is presumably, at least in part, his inscription in a period hand on the top board of the desk which reads “Nath Gould not his work”, along with another “Joseph Gould” and “1779” in a cruder script. The ambiguity of the first has long confused scholars; however, upon closer examination “Nath Gould” and “not his work” are by different hands. The “Nath Gould” portion of the inscription matches Gould’s signature on other legal documents of the time but the individual responsible for the “not his work” is still up for debate. Heckscher points out that Gould was the richest cabinetmaker working in Salem in the 1770s, and the only one known to have owned a copy of Chippendale’s Director. Although he died relatively young at 47, his probate inventory of shop and household goods was substantial, including 1650 board feet of mahogany and 1000 feet of (red) cedar. Note that the block-front secretary at the Mead Art Museum has all secondary drawer parts made of mahogany and red cedar. Late in his life, he employed “Gent” as appellation, and probably had ceased the actual vigorous work of cabinetmaking. Receipts in the Derby family papers indicate Gould was making furniture for the family in the years 1777–1779, and any of the four secretaries would have been of suitable style and importance for either Elias Hasket Derby or his brother Richard. Heckscher has suggested that the confusing inscriptions represent a disaffected journeyman relative laboring away with inadequate pay or appreciation, inscribing the desk in a fit of pique. This may parallel the motivations of apprentice Nathan Bowen’s signature in 1772 in a hidden location on his master Thomas Sherburne’s superb serpentine bombé chest of drawers in Boston. The Gould inscriptions on the Metropolitan Museum of Art secretary remain an important open issue and with active ongoing scholarly interest and research. Another noted scholar-curator Charles Venable has assembled plausible evidence that cabinetmaker Henry Rust (1737–1812) was instead the maker of the four secretaries and the larger group of related furniture. Many, however, refute that assertion. A most significant discovery, which seemingly puts Venable’s hypothesis to rest, was uncovered while researching the provenance of the present secretary-bookcase. 16