Introducing CAT Chats: Feline Tales of Old New York
On Sunday afternoon, February 2, 2025, my Cats About Town Walking Tours partners and I will be hosting our first CAT Chats, an indoor alternative to our popular outdoor walking tours for winter months. The topic for discussion will be Femme Fatales and the Myth of the Crazy Cat Lady in Old New York.
Our first talk, which will take place at Enoch’s Coffee in the Hell’s Kitchen neighborhood, will focus on cat stories that explore the relationships between women and cats during the late 1800s and early 1900s. The tales will include those about the proverbial widowed cat lady, single-lady cat breeders, high-society women who bequeathed their estates to cat rescue causes, and more.
The CAT Chats program is sponsored by the Cat Museum of NYC, whose goal is to help the community of cats and those who care for them. Museum co-founder Jenny Pierson, who is also a tour guide with Cats About Town Walking Tours, will speak on Hell’s Kitchen cats of Old New York and current efforts to support cat rescue groups in the city. She will also have some merchandise for sale to help raise funds for the future museum.
Below is more information about our first CAT Chat. There are two options: indoor presentation only or indoor presentation plus 50% discount off a future Cats About Town tour.
Space is very limited, so if you are interested in attending, click here today to reserve your spot.
I am available for virtual author events across the United States and for in-person presentations in the New York City metropolitan region (including northern New Jersey and the Hudson Valley). If your organization or library is interested in hosting a program, please click here or contact me at hatchingcat@gmail.com
Many years ago, I wrote about Toby Wendel, the French poodle who lived in the old Wendel mansion on Fifth Avenue and 39th Street. I recently came across this story about a Christmas dinner for the dog, while doing some extra research about the Wendel family for an upcoming presentation.
According to legend, when New York City multi-millionaire Ella Wendel passed away in her mansion at 442 Fifth Avenue in 1931, she left her entire estate – valued at about $50 million or more — to her French poodle, Toby. Although this turned out to be false (Ella bequeathed her inheritance to many charities), the story of the Wendel family is extraordinary.
I am not going to repeat the entire story of the Wendels here–you can click above to read it–but I am going to share a story about Toby’s last Christmas before he passed away in 1933. I’ll also provide some additional history about the land where the Wendel mansion was built in 1856.
Toby lived with Ella Wendel, the last surviving Wendel sister, in this old brick mansion on the northwest corner of Fifth Avenue and 39th Street. He played in the vacant yard adjoining the home on Fifth Avenue.
In 1856, John Daniel Wendel built a red brick mansion on the northwest corner of Fifth Avenue and 39th Street. John’s father, John Gottlieb Wendel, an associate and in-law of John J. Astor, had earned a fortune, first in the fur trade and then in buying and leasing large chunks of Manhattan real estate.
John Daniel and Mary Ann Dey Wendel
John Daniel Wendel and his wife Mary Ann had eight children born from 1835 to 1853: Johann, or John Gottlieb Wendel Jr., Henrietta Dorothea, Mary Elizabeth Astor, Rebecca Antoinette Dew, Augusta Antonia Stansbury, Josephine Jane Steinbeck, Georgiana Geisse Reid, and Ella Virginia von Etchzel.
Over the years, all of the family members died, leaving the youngest daughter, Ella, alone in the large old home with only a few servants and her dog, Toby, to keep her company. (She also reportedly had a few cats, but I cannot find any reliable record of these pets.)
Every night, Ella would let her dog play in the million-dollar, walled-in yard on the side of the house. The poodle also had his own miniature four-poster bed and a butler to wait on him as he dined.
The media called the vacant lot on the Wendel property “Toby’s $1 million playground” because the family reportedly refused to sell the land to developers in order to give Toby a secure place to play.
A younger Ella with one of the family’s first dogs named Toby.
The Toby in this Christmas tale was not the first Toby Wendel. In fact, the family had many dogs, all of whom were buried in the Wendel’s pet cemetery at their summer home in Irvington, New York.
The first white poodle named Toby joined the family in 1911; the Toby in this story arrived sometime around 1928, when Rebecca, Georgiana, and Ella were all still alive.
On March 13, 1931, Ella Wendel died in her sleep in the home at the age of 78. Only about 19 “friends” and one distant relative — Stanley Shirk, the nephew of her deceased brother-in-law — attended the services at at her home. Toby also attended the services.
A large crowd of people gathered in front of the Wendel house as her casket was carried out, hoping to get a glimpse inside the mysterious old Wendel mansion. Other than one or two doctors and a family friend, no one outside the Wendel family had ever set foot in the house once John Daniel Wendel had passed away.
A crowd of onlookers gathered outside the Wendel home during the funeral services for Ella Wendel in 1931.
Following Ella’s passing, Toby’s life took a turn for the worse. With no special butler left to care for him, Toby was made to sleep in a plain basket in the kitchen and to eat his food like any ordinary dog from a saucer. At night he’d wander inconsolably through the dark, empty house looking for his mistress.
Ella Wendel’s will was hotly contested (some said Ella was not of sound mind when she prepared her will, because if she had been ok, she would have added a provision for the care of her dog), and more than 2,000 people falsely claimed to be related to the wealthy Wendels. Eventually, though, most of the Wendel estate went to various charities and organizations, including Drew University, which now owned the $5 million mansion.
In December 1931, with the estate not yet settled, Toby was still living in the house. The three remaining servants in the Wendel mansion served Toby a meal of calves’ liver on a special little doggie table in the dining room.
All the furnishings and antiques in the house were sold at auction in September 1933. One month later, a veterinarian was called in to put Toby humanely to sleep. At the age of 8, he had become overweight and often snapped at people.
Toby was buried on the grounds of the Wendel summer estate in Irvington, alongside the graves of all the other Tobys and other dogs that came before him.
A Brief History of Fifth Avenue and 39th Street
The Wendel mansion at Fifth Avenue and 39th Street
The Wendel family in America dates back to John Gottlieb Matthias Wendel, a German fur trader who arrived in New York in 1798. He married Elizabeth Astor, a half-sister of John Jacob Astor. The two men went into the fur business together at a small shop on Maiden Lane.
The fur trade was profitable, and soon Astor and Wendel started buying up New York real estate. Their motto was, never take out a mortgage, never sell, and keep moving north. In time, unbeknown to most people, the Wendels became Manhattan’s land-richest family.
John and Elizabeth’s son, John Daniel Wendel, continued in his father’s footsteps. When Elizabeth Astor Wendel died on November 28, 1846, she left her son a vast amount of Manhattan real estate. The younger Wendel never sold any of it.
In 1856, John Daniel Wendel moved from his home at 705 Broadway and ventured north into the rural suburbs to build a red brick mansion on the northwest corner of Fifth Avenue and 39th Street.
This land had once been part of Bloomingdale, which encompassed several square miles along the Hudson River from 42nd to 129th Streets, give or take. More specially, this little corner of Manhattan was once a farm owned by a Scottish auctioneer and merchant named John Taylor.
The Taylor home is noted with the blue X on this 1911 Randel Farm Map; the red X marks the spot of the future Wendel mansion on Fifth Avenue and 39th Street.
Taylor and his wife, Margaret Scott, arrived in the New World from Glasgow in the spring of 1785. The family lived downtown in a “cozy dwelling” above Taylor’s shop at 225 Queen Street (183-185 Pearl Street).
From the book “John Taylor, A Scottish Merchant of Glasgow and New York, 1752-1833″ (De Forest; 1917)
By 1796, the family had seven children (one other child had died very young), and another baby was on the way. That year, Taylor purchased a tract of land in Bloomingdale from the estate of Dr. Samuel Nicoll (aka Nichol) for 1575 pounds. Although Margaret died only two weeks after giving birth to her last child, the large family continued to spend summers at the Bloomingdale farm until making it their fulltime home in 1811.
The large house with white columns faced the Bloomingdale Road (near today’s 6th Avenue and 38th Street), and had a back entrance on what was called the Middle Road. The 10-acres farm was surrounded by mature trees, and there was a garden where the family grew produce that they sold at the Fulton Market.
John Taylor died on June 30, 1833. None of his children wanted the old home at Bloomingdale, and so the property was sold in 1834 for a mere $50,000.
The John Taylor residence. From the book “John Taylor, A Scottish Merchant of Glasgow and New York, 1752-1833″ (De Forest; 1917)
This vintage tabby is not Judy, but Judy was described as a gray and black tabby cat who took her job seriously.
In December 1902, a large collie dog who was a defendant in the Grant Street Court convicted himself by his behavior. His poor behavior was in response to the appearance of Judy, the vigilant court police cat.
According to the Brooklyn Daily Times, the dog had been charged with “viciousness” by Mrs. Charles A. Rohmann of 471 East 27th Street. Mrs. Robinson told the court that the dog had bitten her little boy and four other children in the neighborhood. She presented the court with a doctor’s certificate showing that her child had been treated for a severe dog bite.
The bad dog was owned by Mrs. Mary Robinson, who lived at 459 East 26th Street. She insisted that the dog was “lamblike” and that he was too young to bite people.
“Your honor, I’m all alone my house, my children are away at boarding school, and I must have protection,” Mrs. Robinson told Magistrate Alfred E. Steers. Her lawyer concurred, stating the three-month old pup was a quiet little fellow who would do no harm. (I’m not sure how a lamblike, harmless dog would be a good guard dog…)
Immediately following these opening statements, the Grant Street police court cat made her appearance.
Judy began her career as a court cat in April 1900, when she surprised a sergeant by jumping on his shoulders just as he was telling a prisoner that he had to be searched. The doorman put her outside, but Judy came right back in.
The sergeant, who was superstitious, did not want the cat to come back a third time; he thought it would be bad luck, so he let her stay. And so two times was a charm and stay she did.
When Captain William Knipe of the Grant Street police station (then the 67th Police Precinct) inquired about the cat, Judy jumped on his shoulders, too. She refused to jump off until she was good and ready. Judy was a strong-willed cat who was not to be messed with.
From that point on, Judy had full run of the Grant Street police court. She would walk all over the judge’s desk and the sergeant’s books regardless of whether the court was in session or not, and whenever someone removed her from the court she would promptly return to her chosen spot in the room.
No one knew were Judy came from, but the gray and black tabby was considered a lucky cat on account of her eyes: she reportedly had one black eye and one green eye. She tended to close her green eye when looking at humans, which the judge and police officers took to be a sign of good luck. Despite her shenanigans, the magistrate never called her out of order.
Over time, Judy became a mascot of the Grant Street police court and police station, “and woe would be to the man who harm(ed) a hair of her body”! She became “an invariable attendant upon sessions of the court whenever weighty issues (were) under consideration.” As a court cat, she was “treated with profound respect.”
Judy the police court cat served in the Grant Street court and police station (formerly the Flatbush Town Hall), built in 1874-75. The building is still standing. New York Public Library Digital Collections.
On the day that Mrs. Rogers appeared in court with her dog, Judy had been conducting her business in another part of the building. Something or someone must have tipped her off that a “weighty issue” was at hand, so she sauntered into the court to investigate the situation.
Seeing the cat, the collie pulled at his chain and sprang at the feline. Judy quickly retreated to the magistrate’s office. The powerful dog was no match for his mistress, who stumbled as he dragged her toward the cat. Mrs. Robinson finally had to let go of the chain, which sent the court into an uproar.
The dog chased the cat all around the office and back into the courtroom. Judy, being much nimbler and more familiar with the layout of the court, easily evaded the collie. She tore down the stairs and took refuge in a jail cell. Court Officer Fox grabbed the dog and chained him to a railing in the courtroom.
Mrs. Mary Robinson promised the magistrate to keep the dog chained or to find a more suitable owner. The court was adjourned for a month, on the grounds that the collie would not be allowed to roam at large during this time. Mrs. Rohmann said she doubted that either Mrs. Robinson or the dog would comply with this order. The final verdict was not published.
A Brief History of the Grant Street Police Court of Flatbush
Settlement in the Dutch Village of Midwout, or Middle Woods (today’s Flatbush), began around 1652, although some of the original farms in the area dated back to the 1630s.
Midwout was one of the six towns of Kings County founded under Dutch rule. The others were Breuckelen (Brooklyn), Boswijk (Bushwick), Amersfoort (later, Flatlands), New Utrecht, and Gravesend (an English-speaking settlement and the first in America established by a woman).
This 1700 map shows the original six towns of present-day Brooklyn. The earliest recorded land purchase by the Dutch, near what is now Flatbush and Flatland, was recorded in 1636.
The farms of Midwout were originally laid out erratically, and thus, they were not easy to defend. So in 1665, Governor Peter Stuyvesant accepted a plan for a new village with plots set aside for a church, a school, a courthouse, and a tavern. The center of the village was located where today’s Church and Flatbush Avenues now intersect.
The center of Flatbush (Church Lane and the Brooklyn and Flatbush Road) is marked by the large X on this 1873 map. The Court House Lot was located on property later occupied by the residence of Abraham A. Lott, noted by the small X. The Lotts and Bergens were two of the most prominent families of Flatbush.
Although the plan approved by Stuyvesant called for a courthouse, the first courthouse constructed in Kings County was actually in Gravesend in 1683, the year the county was formed. It wasn’t until two years later, in 1685, that court services moved to Flatbush on what was called the Court House Lot (later the property of John A. Lott). This lot comprised two buildings housing a court and a separate jail.
In November 1692, the Court of Sessions for Kings County ordered that each town have “a good pair of stocks and a good pound.” The Flatbush stocks and a whipping post stood in front of the jail.
In the winter of 1757, the jail burned down (there is no record whether the stocks and whipping post also burned). The court would have also been destroyed had it not been for some ingenuity: residents threw snowballs on the building, which prevented the fire from spreading.
Following the fire, a two-story structure was built on the site, which had a jail downstairs and a court upstairs. During the Revolutionary War, British soldiers used the court as a ballroom.
In 1792, the court building was sold at auction to Michael Van Cleef, who in turn tore it down and sold the timbers to Reverend Martimus Schoonmaker. Schoonmaker used the timber to build a house on Flatbush Avenue that was later occupied by his son, Stephen.
The Schoonmaker house on Flushing Avenue, around 1910. Brooklyn Visual Heritage Collections
A larger courthouse and jail was erected on this same site, but this building burned down in November 1832. All of the Kings County court services were transferred to the new City of Brooklyn at this time.
For many years, Flatbush held its elections at hotels and the justices held their courts in either their own homes or in the parlors of hotels. After the public schoolhouse was erected in 1842, elections and court sessions took place on its second floor.
By 1861, the growing town needed the second floor of the school for the children, and so elections, court sessions, and other community events took place at Schoonmaker Hall (893 Flatbush Avenue) for the next ten years.
On February 19, 1874, a group of prominent landowners–including John Lefferts, Gilbert Hicks, Jonas Lott, John Vanderbilt, Dr. J.L. Zabriskie, J.V.B. Martense, John J. Snyder, and Abraham Ditmas–met at Schoonmaker Hall to propose a formal town hall.
Colonel John Yapp Cuyler
The men formed a Board of Improvement and hired architect Colonel John Y. Culyer to design the Gothic Revival building. The new Flatbush Town Hall was constructed in 1874-75 on a yet-unpaved portion of Union Place (later, Grant Street, and today’s Snyder Avenue).
The Flatbush Town Hall contained offices for local officials and the police force on the ground floor. An auditorium on the second floor was used for public meetings and events and also served as a ballroom.
Down in the basement was what was described as “a repulsive” lockup (which the men hoped would never be occupied by a Flatbush resident). The bell in the tower alerted volunteer firemen of fires using a special code that designated its location.
After Flatbush was annexed into the City of Brooklyn in 1894, the Grant Street building served as a community center, magistrate’s court, and the 67th Police Precinct. It was during this era that Judy reigned as the court cat.
The Flatbush Town Hall is marked on this 1890 map. NYPL Digital Collections
The building was mostly vacant from 1924 to 1926, but in 1926 the old town hall was renovated to house the new 82nd Police Precinct. The police force moved out in 1972, which is the year the old building was listed on the National Register of Historic Places.
Today the former Grant Street court and police station serves as a public school focused on special education needs.
The old Grant Street court and police station at 35 Snyder Avenue in 2018.
This Monday night, I will be sharing some stories and photos from my new book, The Bravest Pets of Gotham: Tales of Four-Legged Firefighters of Old New York. The 35-minute presentation will be virtual on Zoom and free of charge.
When: Monday, November 25, 8 p.m.EST Where: Virtual, Zoom Meeting ID 406 496 5913 Password AqW2Rw
Like my website and my first book in the Gotham series, The Cat Men of Gotham, The Bravest Pets of Gotham focuses on the late 1800s and early 1900s. During this era, the New York Fire Department (FDNY) permitted firemen to keep one dog, one cat, or singing birds in their firehouse.
Because the firemen were required to live and work at the firehouse full time, these animal mascots—along with the fire horses that pulled the fire apparatus—were their constant companions, making a dangerous workplace feel more like home. In my presentation, I’ll share my favorite stories of fire horses, dogs, cats, and even a monkey!
The Bravest Pets of Gotham: Tales of Four-Legged Firefighters of Old New York takes readers on a fun historical tour of firefighting in Old New York, with more than 100 touching and comical stories about the bond between FDNY firefighters and their four-legged firefighter friends and co-workers. The book is also chock-full of history, so whether you love animals, New York history, or firefighting, The Bravest Pets of Gotham will amaze you and make you laugh (and yes, cause you to get teary-eyed a bit).
Click Here for Zoom on November 25, 8 p.m. EST Meeting ID 406 496 5913 Password AqW2Rw
I will be donating a percentage of my proceeds from private sales of the book to the Tunnel to Towers Foundation. Signed books can be ordered by contacting me at hatchingcat@gmail.com
Jiggs the fire dog with Fireman “Smoke” McEwan and the horses of FDNY Engine 205, 1922. Photo courtesy of the Connecticut Firemen’s Historical Society.
Every so often, I find an animal story of Old New York that is so silly or absurd, I start laughing out loud. I hope this following tale of a neighbor dispute on Putnam Avenue in Bushwick, Brooklyn will also leave you laughing. (And if you want something more serious, I explore a bit of this neighborhood’s history after the cat tale.)
The story takes place at an existing 4-story tenement building on the corner of Putnam Avenue and Bushwick Avenue. Unlike today, the building had a large yard in the back, where Mrs. Bertha Grimm, a resident, allowed her many cats to roam free. This situation did not sit well with Mrs. Jennie Simmons and her French poodle, Prince.
Brooklyn Daily Eagle, June 7, 1911
According to Mrs. Simmons, she believed that her dog had every right to enjoy playing in the yard without being hassled by the dozen or so cats that belonged to Mrs. Grimm. She tried to work out a schedule with the cat lady so that dog and cats could have equal yard time, but Mrs. Grimm reportedly would not budge.
One day, Mrs. Simmons was in the yard with Prince, whom she referred to as “the most innocent little dog on earth.” She carried a whip in her hand “to control the animal’s charming disobediences.” Sure.
As she was walking through the yard, a large white cat came flying down “like a cannon ball.” Next, a Maltese cat landed on the back of Mrs. Simmons, and a large black Tomcat with orange spots landed on the back of Prince, claws out, ready to fight.
Another cat bounced off the head of Mrs. Jennie Butler, a fellow resident who found herself in the wrong place at the wrong time. A total of 5 cats came flying down, landing in the yard.
No one was seriously injured, including the canine and felines (albeit, Mrs. Simmons told the judge that her little dog may never recover from the shock to his nerves).
Mrs. Simmons called the authorities and charged Mrs. Grimm with tossing the cats from her apartment window. At the Gates Avenue Court, Mrs. Grimm first said the cats were all sleeping on the window ledge, and they all simultaneously proceeded to fall into the yard. She later changed her absurd story and admitted that she had tossed them out the window “in a gentle and perfectly ladylike manner,” but she did not intend to harm anyone. Sure.
Mrs. Grimm said she did not object to the dog playing in the yard, as long as the cats were given some consideration. Magistrate Harris slapped her with a $200 bond to keep the peace for two months straight, and accepted her promise that her cats would never again rain down on the yard.
A Brief History of the Suydam House of Bushwick
In 1855, Bushwick, Williamsburg, and Greenpoint were merged into the City of Brooklyn, forming its Eastern District until the consolidation of Greater New York in 1898.
The apartment building where Mrs. Grimm lived with her many cats was (and still is) on the corner of Putnam and Bushwick Avenues. Putnam Avenue was originally called Jacob Avenue, in honor of Jacob Suydam, who settled in Brooklyn in the late 1700s.
The written history of Bushwick goes back to 1661, when, according to “The Eastern District of Brooklyn,” several French men (Huguenots) were granted permission by Dutch Governor Peter Stuyvesant to settle in an area between Mespath Kill (Newtown Creek) and Norman’s Kill (Bushwick Creek).
This area became known as Boswijck (means heavy woods), or Bushwick, and was primarily used for grazing purposes. However, there was also a village, called Het Dorp, or Bushwick Green, toward which all the principal roads converged. Here was a church, a town hall, a school, a cemetery, and several houses.
During the Dutch colonial period, the common lands of the town–called Boswijck Nieuw Loten (New Lotts of Bushwick)–were divided among several freeholders. In 1700, a freeholder named William Van Nuyse selected a secluded spot along the first road in the settlement–called New Bushwick Lane (now Evergreen Avenue)–to build the first house in the town.
Sometime around 1724, Leffert Pietersen Van Haughwout (aka Leffert Lefferts), a French Huguenot immigrant and patriarch of the Lefferts family in Brooklyn, purchased the house and three lots from Van Nuyse. He also purchased about 70 acres of the New Bushwick Lotts and an additional 10 acres of woodland in Bushwick.
Over the years, Lefferts added to the property until the farm totaled about 136 acres. He also owned 25 acres of woodland in the town of Newtown. Lefferts lived in the home until his death in 1754.
In 1768, Leffert’s son–also named Leffert Lefferts–sold the home and the large parcel of farmland to Jacob Suydam.
Built around 1720, the Suydam House stood for nearly two centuries on the corner of what is now Evergreen and Woodbine streets.
Jacob Suydam, who worked as some type of smith in Flatbush, had 13 children with his wife, Seytje Jacobs. One of his sons, Hendrick, inherited the property and was living in the home when the British occupied Long Island during the Revolution.
To avoid becoming a prisoner, Hendrick took an oath of conformity and allowed the Hessians to lodge with him and his family. About 20 Hessians and a woman who cooked for them shared one room, and the Suydams lived on the other side of the house.
The Jacob Suydam house sometime prior to 1899. Note the odd, doll-size child on the bottom left. There is something very strange about this little boy.
Jacob died in the home in 1811 at the age of 71. The last of the Suydams to occupy the house was Adrian Martense Suydam, a grandson of Jacob who was born in the home in 1826. At this time, the family farm extended from Knickerbocker Avenue to Broadway and from Jefferson Avenue to Palmetto Street.
The Suydam house, center red circle, is shown on this 1898 map. The tenement on Putnam Avenue where all the cats lived was not yet built at this time. Most of the houses were of frame construction, as noted in yellow.
In 1869, the Suydam house was still the only house on the large farm. During this time, Evergreen Avenue was just a turf road for farmers that comprised small ruts for the wagon wheels and two narrow paths for the horses. The road was often covered with flocks of white geese.
Wishing to transform the farm into building lots, Jacob gave one of the lots to a man on the condition that the man would build and occupy one house on the land. Within 15 years, more than 125 frame homes had been built on the former Suydam farm.
The Suydam house was demolished in 1899 to make way for the Second German Dutch Baptist Church. According to the Brooklyn Daily Eagle, the heavy blue stone blocks that formed the old house were reportedly used in the foundation of the new church.
The Second German Dutch Baptist Church–now the Evergreen Baptist Church–in the 1930s. Note the old frame houses on the left.
