e-Newsletter | July 5, 2024

"Edmund's Dulce": A Tragic Romance

by Annabelle Svahn and Lilly Baumfeld, F.E. Bushee Interns

During a patriotic celebration in Lwow in November 1919, Edmund’s plane lost its right wing during a double roll and crashed. Edmund left behind a fiancée, Dulce Huntington. They met during his six-month stay in England in 1919. According to research done by the family, Edmund told Dulce he had written to his family about her, but nothing was ever received by the Graves. Following Edmund’s death, Dulce wrote dozens of letters to the family. We were struck by Dulce’s continual search for friendship and comfort with the Graves over the years...


Read the title story following event announcements!

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Ablaze! A Fiery Walking History of Newburyport's Famous Conflagrations

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Conference on Newburyport and the China Trade, 1844-2024

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"Edmund's Dulce": A Tragic Romance

by Annabelle Svahn and Lilly Baumfeld

Working at the Museum of Old Newbury is never a dull affair! We, Lilly and Annabelle, are in our third year as summer interns here, and are quite used to the surprise arrival of new items for the collection. Two weeks ago, Bethany, our fearless leader, announced one morning she had a new project for us and proceeded to direct us to several boxes containing hundreds of letters. The letters were donated by Tim Kendall, a descendant of the Graves-Pike family of Newburyport.

 

The letters primarily concern one branch of the Graves family: Edmund Pike Graves, his wife Mary Warner Caldwell, and their children Ellen Graves (1884-1972), Mary Graves (1887-1905), Nancy Graves (1890-1973), Edmund P. Graves, Jr. (1891-1919), and Ruth Graves (1898-1977). The family moved to Argentina in 1897 and stayed there until the patriarch Edmund’s death in 1913, whereafter the family returned to Massachusetts. The letters detail the lives of the daughters, including their travels across Europe, with letters exchanged from Spain, France, Germany, Italy, England, and Norway. For the past two weeks we have been reading these letters and uncovering the personal details of family stories, including tales of business, friendship, courtship, and loss.

 

One story which stood out to us, and we wish to share today is that of Dulce Huntington, the fiancée of Edmund P. Graves Jr. The family encountered a tragedy in 1919 when Edmund died in an aviation accident in Lwów, Poland, now Lviv, Ukraine. He served in the Polish 7th Air Escadrille, known as the “Kościuszko Squadron,” during the Polish-Soviet War. During a patriotic celebration in Lwow in November 1919, Edmund’s plane lost its right wing during a double roll and crashed. Edmund left behind a fiancée, Dulce Huntington. They had met during his six-month stay in England in 1919. According to research done by the family, Edmund told Dulce he had written to his family about her, but nothing was ever received by the Graves. Following Edmund’s death, Dulce wrote dozens of letters to the family. We were struck by Dulce’s continual search for friendship and comfort with the Graves over the years.

Edmund Pike Graves, 1918

The first letter that we have cataloged from Dulce is addressed to Ruth from February of 1920, about three months after Edmund’s death. In it, Dulce does not introduce herself, but has some emotionally heavy requests of Ruth. We are assuming that this is not her first letter to the Graves family, though it is certainly still very early on in their relationship. 


Throughout the letter, Dulce affords a significant amount of effort towards establishing a connection between not just Edmund and herself, but also between herself and Ruth. Dulce even goes as far as to equate Ruth and Ellen to be her own sisters, claiming that Edmund referred to them as such in a letter sent to Dulce: “I was so happy one day, because (although I have no sisters) he said something about ‘Our mother, and our sisters.’ / How lovely, thought I! At last I have some sisters!!!” She also empathizes with Ruth, telling her of her brother Jack who died in France at the beginning of World War I.

Dulce Huntington, 1919

Jack Huntington, 1913

The main subject of this first letter, however, is not just to lament over Edmund’s untimely death, or to grasp at a close relationship with his family; Dulce asks Ruth to send some of Edmund’s belongings to her. 


The first item, technically, is actually Dulce’s: an overcoat belonging to her late brother, given to Edmund by her own father; an item of high sentimental value to Dulce. She also asks Ruth if she has any “carbon-copies” of Edmund’s letters to her that Ruth would be willing to send as well, and goes on for a page explaining the existence of the carbon-copies (essentially, so that in the event that a letter to her was lost in the mail, Edmund would be able to send her another copy). 


Her request does not end there, however, as she then writes, “it is almost impossible to ask of you, but should you find something that you can spare, I should indeed be grateful.” As if to justify such a request, Dulce then emphasizes her relationship to Edmund: “It seems to me to be for my very life that I am asking, because you see Ruth, we did love each other so tremendously.”


From these letters we also learned more about the tragic details of Edmund’s death. In October of 1920, Dulce writes a letter to Ellen. This letter contains the details, as were told to Dulce by a “friend of Edmund’s in the squadron,” of Edmund’s tragic death. In it she writes that “he died without any pain, but it is such agony to me to read of it.” 

Dulce's copied letter from Edmund's squadron mate

The account of his death is poignant, but Dulce’s morose feelings, although maybe they should have, were not what caught the majority of our attention. Instead, what did was the fact that the details of this account, given to the Graves’ by one of the last people to see Edmund alive through poor Dulce, are markedly different from those published about the incident in a 1920 book about the Kościuszko Squadron.


The book is written by Merian C Cooper, a founding member of the American squadron in Poland, and later famous in the movie industry. Cooper’s account contends that upon the accident, Edmund was killed instantly. Edmund’s friend, however, writes something different: “I reached him two or three minutes after he fell and as I took off his helmet he muttered something I could not understand, then he smiled, closed his eyes, and seemed to go to sleep.” According to this squadron-mate, Edmund survived the initial impact, and seemed to go peacefully. 


We wonder if this account was told as such just to possibly pacify the grieving fiancée of a squadron-mate, but the difference in accounts is still interesting. This letter also lets us know that Dulce was in contact with more than just the Graves family in terms of people important to Edmund during his life. 


Dulce’s letters to the Graves sisters continue to discuss her grief over Edmund’s death. It appears her health suffered gravely. In August of 1920 Dulce sent Ellen pieces from her wedding trousseau, embroidered with G to represent her new initials. She wrote that “when I can find sufficient courage I will take off all the G’s and send them to you if I may.” Dulce explains she is also working on an embroidered tea cloth to send to Ellen. She had previously enjoyed detailed sewing work, but she explains that “the winter when I was so ill and wretchedly unhappy (after I heard of Edmund’s death) I found it quite impossible to keep my mind on any one thing.” She finally feels ready to finish the tea cloth for Ellen.

Embroidery from Dulce's wedding trousseau

Dulce writes with great hopes of visiting the Graves in Newburyport, but her ailing health causes her to delay the trip. In 1921 Dulce planned for a July trip to Newburyport, booking a passage aboard the Olympic. Days before her departure on July 2nd, Dulce writes that she will be unable to make the voyage, because she is ill. Although she knows it is for the best, as “Edmund would want me to keep brave and get well.” In the spring of 1922 Dulce finally visited Newburyport. Her mother, Alice, writes to Mrs. Graves thanking her for hosting Dulce. Alice believes her daughter’s health will be better after the trip, as all the Doctors said Dulce had been affected by a “mental” condition.

 

The last letter we have from Dulce, dated June of 1922, concludes with: “I often dream I am with you again, and the house at Newburyport is always a vivid picture in my mind.”


Dulce invites the Graves family to England, but we do not know if they ever meet again. We also do not know what happens to Dulce and if she is able to continue with her life, although we hope that she does find happiness. Her letters offer a window into a story otherwise forgotten and a chronicle of a young woman’s reckoning with the various losses in her life. 


We look forward to sharing more stories from the Graves family with you in the coming weeks!

Dulce Huntington in 1923 wearing hair pins from Ellen Graves and Mary Warner Caldwell Graves

John B. Gough Returns to Port: A Temperance Blog Part III

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.


Something Is Always Cooking...

Watermelon Feta Salad


INGREDIENTS


7 to 8 cups seedless watermelon cut into ¾ inch cubes


1 ½ cups fresh blueberries plus more to taste


1 cup crumbled feta cheese plus more to taste


Fresh mint and basil leaves, thinly sliced plus more for garnish


Honey lime dressing:


Juice of 1 ½ limes


1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil


1 to 2 tablespoons honey to taste


A pinch of salt




INSTRUCTIONS


  • Make the honey lime dressing: In a mason jar, combine all the honey lime dressing ingredients and shake vigorously until well combined. Adjust to taste as needed.


  • In a large serving bowl, combine the cubed watermelon, blueberries, mint, basil, and ¾ cup of the crumbled feta. Toss with the honey lime dressing evenly.


  • Top with the remaining ¼ cup feta and garnish with more mint and basil leaves if desired. Serve immediately. Enjoy!


ENJOY!

Puzzle Me This...

This 1872 Currier & Ives print offers a whole tree full of reasons to stop drinking.


The text on the bottom reads:


The tree of temperance. Ye shall know them by their fruits. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles? Matt., VII, 16. Ho, everyone that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, Isaiah L.V.17. And be not drunk with wine, wherein is excess, Ephesians V.18. And if he thirsts give him water to drink, Prov. XXV. And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth fruit in his season, his leaf also shall not wither & whatsoever he doeth shall prosper, Psalms 1.3.



Click the image to do the puzzle



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