Did prohibition start because of a monkey fight in Maine?

Maybe. I mean, in this writer’s opinion: ABSOLUTELY.

Back in 1851, Neal Dow, of Portland, rallied against alcohol and got Maine to pass the first prohibition statute (known as the Maine Law). He advocated for national prohibition, which eventually happened, as you know.

But 40 years earlier, Neal Dow was just a 7-year-old kid, hanging out by a barber shop on Fore Street in Portland. I’ll let Neal take it from here, in his own words, straight from “The Reminiscences of Neal Dow.”

“In a yard connected with the (barber) shop was a large monkey, and some of the loiterers there arranged for a fight between the monkey and myself.”

Although Dow doesn’t outright say it in this text, writer Cliff Gallant and Paul Della Valle, author of the book, “Speaking Ill of the Dead: Jerks in New England History,” call the bystanders “drunkos.”

Back to Dow: “Not old enough to realize the absurdity of such a match, or to understand that there were only bites and scratched to be had, and no good of any kind, or even so-called honor, to be won from the scrimmage, I permitted myself to be armed with a stout stick furnished by one of the [drunk] men and entered the territory where the monkey intended to be supreme. The rest of the affair I remember as if it were an occurrence of yesterday.”

Oh boy.

“To such a monkey as I then encountered, it is wise to give a wide berth. He opened the fight with teeth and claw, jumping at my face, biting at me and tearing my clothes with all his considerable might. I kept him in front of me as well as I could, kicking and striking him in front of me as well as I could, kicking and striking him whenever I got the chance. How long the folly lasted I do not know. For what seemed to me a long time the monkey had most of the fun and I most of the pain, but at length the brute got tired of it and knew enough to give up.”

As monkeys do.

“Before I had thrashed the monkey soundly as I wished, I was called off [by drunks?] and came out of the yard bitten, scratched, bloody and dirty from head to foot, and with clothes torn, but I was so petted and rewarded with candy and round-cakes by the rascally [drunk] bystanders who has put me up to the fight, that I imagined myself quite a hero until, taking a great deal of dirt, some of the blood, and all of the scratched home with me, I found, much to my comfort, that my parents took a very different view of the affair from that help by the [drunk] barbershop loafers.”

Dow’s peaceful Quaker parents were horrified to discover that their tiny boy (and he was a small man) had beaten a monkey with a stick. As you would be. And can I just take a break from writing this article right now to say: OH MY GOD THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENED.

Back to the story: Another guy, Frank Byrne, wrote a book on prohibition and Neal Dow called, “Prophet of Prohibition: Neal Dow and His Crusade Hardcover.” He wrote, “[Neal] was not only brave but belligerent.” His parents were irate and yelled and yelled at him for clubbing the monkey … which, personally, I’d love to have heard. I imagine Mr. and Mrs. Dow: “NEAL MIDDLENAME DOW. If I EVER see you club a monkey on a wharf EVER again, there will be heck to pay!”

Byrne goes on, “Though his body and brain ached with [his parents’] blows and preachments, he retained his fighting spirit. While he accompanied his parents to the Friends’ meetings, he was no pacifist. Again and again, he would fight undignified physical and verbal brawls.”

Now, as we know, Neal Dow became the mayor of Portland and earned the nicknames “Napoleon of Temperance” and “Father of Prohibition” by sponsoring the Maine law that prohibited the sale of alcohol (which lasted for five years, BTW). The movement caught on nationally and was also short-lived. So you tell me: Did prohibition start because of a monkey fight in Maine?

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