In the days before the proliferation of printed labels, cabinetmakers signed only their best piece. The blocked desk-and-bookcase, circa 1775, at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City is Gould’s only signed piece. It is inscribed “Nath Gould not his work,†but Kemble Widmer and Joyce King discovered that “Nath Gould†is in Gould’s hand, while “not his work†is not. It may have been written by Gould’s son, also Nathaniel, or by a disgruntled worker. The 105-inch piece was likely the one purchased by Jeremiah Lee for his daughter on the occasion of her marriage.

The peculiar convergence of curiosity, history, persistence and technology has placed a formerly fairly obscure name in the canon of American furniture masters. In one click of a mouse, the name of Salem cabinetmaker Nathaniel Gould has been established firmly as an Eighteenth Century furniture maker of superb artistry. At the same time, positive attribution of a number of his masterful pieces has been made, and surely there will be more to come.

The unraveling of the mystery of Nathaniel Gould began more than two years ago when antiques dealer Todd Prickett of C.L. Prickett in Yardley, Penn., called on independent furniture scholar Kemble Widmer to research a bombé block front mahogany desk-and-bookcase, circa 1780. That it was a Salem piece was clear; Prickett knew that it related closely to the desk-and-bookcase in the collection of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the only known signed Gould piece.

Similar pieces were attributed to another Salem cabinetmaker, Henry Rust. Widmer, who has studied Gould for more than 20 years, said he never believed the Rust attributions, explaining that Rust moved around too much to have had consistent production and relationships. He says that Gould’s work is consistent and far superior to that of Rust.

Widmer enlisted the help of Joyce King, a researcher and colleague of more than two decades, who is also a former Salem resident, and the two were off and running.

King performed a couple of Internet searches and Nathaniel Gould’s name popped up on the Massachusetts Historical Society (MHS) website. MHS, established in 1791, has for about ten years been engaged in digitizing its prodigious collections. The Gould link had been online for just a few weeks when King found it. She sent Widmer a note, “This could be important.” And it was.

Widmer and King took themselves to the historical society. Two daybooks and one account book kept by Nathaniel Gould were right there in plain sight. These and Gould’s estate inventory, noting “oceans of spirits” among his other possessions, were included in the papers of Nathan Dane donated to the historical society in about 1835.

It was Gould’s habit to use clock hinges for prospect doors as evinced by the detail view of the desk-and-bookcase at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Dane was a lawyer, judge and legislator and member of MHS, and had settled Gould’s estate after his death in 1781. For Peter Drummey, librarian of MHS, the confluence of Widmer and King, the resources of the historical society and technology epitomizes research at its best.

Little is known about Gould the man, except that he was the son of one Salem cabinetmaker and the father of another. Born in 1734, the eldest male in his family of five or six siblings and orphaned at 12, he later apprenticed to a Charlestown cabinetmaker, possibly third-generation artisan Thomas Wood. He was back in Salem and had set up as a cabinetmaker in early 1757. In 1760, he married Rebecca Wood, the daughter of Thomas Wood, a third-generation Charlestown cabinetmaker, to whom he may have been apprenticed.

Gould the merchant is another matter entirely. The three books are highly detailed, and as Widmer notes, “There may be a missing ledger, but, otherwise, they document Gould’s entire business life.” They cover the years 1758 to 1783, with a gap of the years 1763 to 1767, and record Gould’s purchases and sales with exquisite and chronological detail of each client, of credit extended, debts paid and barter exchanges. Says Widmer, “Except for the missing book, the ledgers document Gould’s entire oeuvre.”

A Salem scallop shell of the desk-and-bookcase at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Gould died in 1781, but his son, also a cabinetmaker in Salem, kept the accounts until 1783. The ledgers reveal the materials Gould used and their sources. For example, he had a monopoly on the best mahogany imported into Salem. The artist recognized as the finest cabinetmaker in Eighteenth Century Massachusetts was also a merchant trading in hardware, wood, sugar, molasses and “spirits.”

He also engaged in extensive venture cargo, producing mostly desks that he sold outright to local sea captains who then took them to sea and sold them in various ports, particularly in the West Indies. While his favored woods were mahogany, cherry, walnut and maple, 80 percent of his exports were cedar.

Gould’s output was prodigious; so extensive was his workshop that he sold and subcontracted to other cabinetmakers in town. His existing accounts record the sales of 1,144 chairs, 338 tables of various forms, 441 desks (20 of which went to Salem buyers), 52 “bureau tables” (four-drawer chests) and 19 desk-and-bookcases.

Kemble Widmer and Joyce King inspect the pages of one of Nathaniel Gould’s waste books. Each of Gould’s clients had his own detailed ledger page or pages that noted the object, the wood and sources, and sometimes the reason for the purchase.

Widmer and King are aware of 18 desk-and-bookcases. They know of five surviving chests, which Gould described as “bureau tables”; four are in museum collections and one is in private hands. All are bombé examples, although Gould used the term to describe block fronts and swell fronts alike.

Until Widmer and King’s study, only the signed block front desk-and-bookcase in the collection of the Metropolitan Museum of Art was attributed to Gould and even that was debated. Some believed it to be the work of Rust. Adding fuel to that fire is the inscription “Nath Gould not his work.” Widmer and King found that “Nath Gould” is in the same hand as the account books, while “not his work” is in a different hand. “Not his work” may have been added by a disgruntled worker.

Widmer says Gould’s work was remarkably consistent, with “fastidious construction, superb materials and exceptional refinement.” Graining was important and careful attention was paid; his carved ball and claw feet were distinctive, as were his extended knee returns.

Gould’s list of clients is a snapshot “Who’s Who” of Eighteenth Century Salem. He sold to the Cabots, the Derbys, the Pickmans, the Appletons, Jeremiah Lee and the Dodge family. He even sold to General Thomas Gage, the royal governor and commander of British forces in Massachusetts.

Kem Widmer describes the bombé chest-on-chest in the collection of the Nelson-Atkins Museum in Kansas City as “a really great piece.†The chest-on-chest has just been conserved and will go on view in recently restored galleries April 22.

With that information in hand, King got to work tracing the genealogy of some of those families, revealing the descendancy of some of his furniture. She examined deeds, probate documents and genealogical records to create charts of some of the pieces. Her work has resulted in the identification of the original owners of a number of objects.

Widmer and King are hopeful that the revelation of the ledgers and the publication of the story of Gould, published in Luke Beckerdite’s American Furniture 2008 , may lead to discoveries of other previously unknown or unattributed pieces. Widmer says also that he would love to find dates on other pieces.

Widmer cautions that despite the most scrupulous research, attributions often boil down to educated guesses.

Up and down the Eastern seaboard and in Texas and Missouri, curators and researchers are taking another look at pieces in their collections attributed to a Salem maker or Nathaniel Gould. Oddly, none are known in Salem; the closest is the bombé chest of drawers on view at the Jeremiah Lee Mansion museum in Marblehead, Mass.

Lee of Marblehead, the largest ship owner in the colonies, was a regular customer of Gould’s. The account books note that he purchased two bureau tables, two cases of drawers, a silver table and 36 chairs for his son on the occasion of his 1772 marriage. Lee purchased seven pieces in 1775 for his daughter on the occasion of her marriage. After Lee’s death in 1775, the house was sold. The bombé chest on view at the Lee mansion was purchased for the house by Louise DuPont Crowninshield, for whom the Lee Mansion was a special interest. Karen McInnis, curator of the Marblehead Historical Society, which owns the Lee Mansion, says, “The piece we have is glorious.”

Gould’s bombé desk-and-bookcase descended in the Robert Treat Paine II family and is now in a private collection, having come to auction and purchased by C.L. Prickett for a client.

Historic New England (formerly SPNEA) in Boston also has a bombé chest that is thought to be the one that Gould’s daybook records as having sold to Andrew Cabot of Salem February 24, 1781. The daybook reveals that between 1767 and 1784 Cabot’s other purchases from Gould included two desk-and-bookcases, three bedsteads, a walnut cradle, a child’s crib, a 4-foot table, a card table, a breakfast table and nine chairs. Widmer and King note that the wood used in the bureau table is of lesser quality than that available before the Revolutionary War.

The mahogany bombé chest-on-chest in the collection of the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art in Kansas City was purchased for the museum by the William Rockhill Nelson Trust. The chest, attributed to the workshop of Nathaniel Gould, will have pride of place in newly renovated galleries set to open April 22.

The Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, has a bombé desk-and-bookcase in the Maxim and Martha Codman Karolik Collection. MFA curator Gerald W.R. Ward described the unraveling of the Gould mystery as “very exciting,” adding, “The view of the structure of Gould’s cabinet making business is fantastic.”

As for C.L. Prickett’s bombé desk-and-bookcase, which has been authenticated as a Gould, it descended in the Cabot-Paine-Metcalf family, and is believed to have sold originally to merchants (and brothers) Francis and Joseph Cabot. It is now in a private collection.

For John Apleton [sic], Gould produced a mahogany case of drawers, three bedsteads (one mahogany and two oak), a sideboard, a dining table, a kitchen table and 12 chair frames (six mahogany and six black walnut), among other furniture pieces.

Todd Prickett said the Pricketts had a slant lid desk about 20 years ago that they all thought was likely to have been made by Gould. What made him wonder? “It was wonderful, to begin with.” He said he would love the opportunity to have another look at the piece.

Widmer and King hope to use the ledgers as the basis for a forthcoming book exploring Gould’s work and business. They also hope to make correct attributions of furniture in private and public collections that have been incorrectly ascribed to other makers.

The three ledgers, the estate inventory and several examples of Gould’s furniture remain on view at the Massachusetts Historical Society, 1154 Boylston Street, through April 30. For information, www.masshist.org or 617-536-1608.