Cats in the Mews: March 20, 1904
In 1895, Miss Lillie James, a proverbial crazy cat lady, was admitted to the Insane Pavilion at Bellevue Hospital. According to her sister, Miss James’ obsession with her many cats had caused her to become mentally unstable.
Miss James agreed to being admitted–on one condition. The two cats that she brought with her to the hospital would also have to be committed to the asylum. After all, she said, it was the cats who were insane. She was perfectly sane and clear of mind.
“It is their conduct that has placed me in my present condition,” she told the doctors. “These cats and nine others have conspired against me and affected my health, with the idea of getting possession of my property. Are these guilty cats to go free while I am locked up?”
Although the hospital refused to admit the cats, one most wonder if they were allowed to stay on the grounds. By 1899, there were more than three dozen cats living at the large Bellevue Hospital complex. And in 1904, there was at least one feline in residence that we know about for sure: a white kitten named Red Cross.
Red Cross was born at Bellevue Hospital. She had full run of the complex, including the surrounding yards. Many of the doctors adored her, including Dr. Packer, who worked in the Insane Pavilion (aka, what was then called the psychopathic ward).
Although she was a pure white kitten when she was born, a mischievous intern decided to have some fun with the poor kitty. So, he took some carmine ink and painted crosses on her right and left sides. Hence, she was named Red Cross.
According to The Sun, “Red Cross didn’t seem to mind the doctor’s additions to her spectacular qualities. In fact, she seemed rather proud of them.”
Spring came right on time in 1904. And with it came a doubling of the sparrow population in the hospital yards. As The Sun noted, “They chatter and sqabble and fight for nest-building straws and the trees are alive with them.”
Now, this was the first spring for Red Cross, so she was very excited about all the avian commotion penetrating the otherwise grim hospital yards. “With switching tail and a bloodthirsty eye,” she reportedly made valiant efforts to catch the shadows that the birds cast on the ground. When she couldn’t keep the shadows pinned down, her excitement and frustration levels increased.
At last, Red Cross looked up. She saw hundreds of tiny birds staring back at her, and taunting her from the treetops. With one flying leap, she clutched onto a tree trunk and began climbing.
As she made her way up the tree, the sparrows toyed with and sprang from branch to ever-higher branch. Soon, Red Cross was at the very tip of the topmost branch, with nowhere to go but down. She began meowing loudly as the doctors and attendants watched with both fear and amusement.
One man named Michael Haggerty suggested getting a blanket and holding it under the tree so she could jump down. Dr. Brooks told him that was a foolish idea. “She can climb back most of the way if she gets her nerve,” he said. “Let her have her own way.”
Dr. Crisler tried the woo her down with a “Here kitty, kitty!” Dr. Parker suggested getting a ladder, if one could find a ladder long enough to reach the top of the tree.
As the doctors and attendants debated on what could be done, Red Cross took matters into her own paws. She scrambled along the branch as fast as she could…and then she tumbled out of the tree, “bounding and scratching furiously at every branch she passed.”
According to The Sun, Red Cross did not, as one might expect, land on all four paws. She instead landed flat on her side. Dr. Whittbeck and Dr. Blackwell knelt beside her and ran their hands over her “gaudily emblazoned ribs.” No bones were broken, and her heart was still fluttering, albeit, faintly.
The doctors carried Red Cross into the reception room, where they administered “restoratives,” whatever that means. Soon she was back on her feet and purring.
According to The Sun, “She was patrolling the walks in the late afternoon sunshine yesterday as though she had just taken a new mortgage from the city on the whole establishment. But when sparrows in the tree tops chattered, Red Cross didn’t look up.”
If you’re interested in reading more about the history of Bellevue Hospital, check out the full story of Miss Lillie James and her cats in: 1899: Dewey, Stockings, and the Great Cat Hunt at New York City’s Bellevue Hospital
