One of our most popular CAT walking tour explores the cats who left their pawprints on the history of Old Brooklyn Heights.
Our tour guide Marie Carter spotted this cat in the Grace Court Church gardens while giving a recent Brooklyn Heights walking tour.
If you follow my Hatching Cat website, then you are no doubt a cat lover and possibly also someone who is interested in New York City history. So if you live in the New York City region or plan to visit sometime soon, you may be interested in seeing my cat tales come alive through my Cats About Town (CAT) historical walking tours of Brooklyn Heights and Manhattan.
We have just posted available tours for May through August, which include a few early-evening and Friday afternoon tours, plus a brand-new tour of the Lower East Side/Bowery. We also have two new tour guides: Jenny Pierson and Marie Carter.
Cats About Town Tours
Last summer, I partnered with Dan Rimada of Bodega Cats of New York to form a walking tour company for cat lovers. Within a few weeks, all of our tours had sold out!
Launching in August 2024, our first Cats About Town walking tour explored the catstory of Brooklyn Heights, uncovering the hidden stories of the legendary felines of America’s first suburban neighborhood. We have seen a few real cats on the Brooklyn tour, including a cat in the Grace Court Church gardens and a cat named Noir in a window on Willow Street.
Every guest of the Lower East Side/Bowery walking tour will get a neon cat-ear headband!
In December 2024, we began offering our second tour, which explores the postal, newspaper, prison, and City Hall cats that made history in the Financial District during the late 1800s and early 1900s.
Bowery Cat Crawl!
This year, I will be offering a new tour about the cats of the Bowery and the Lower East Side. There will be more than a dozen cat stories on this tour, all starting with the cats of McSorley’s Old Ale House.
Several LES/Bowery tours will take place from 5:30-7:00 p.m. in the summer months: every guest on these twilight walking tours will receive a cat-ear headband that lights up in neon colors!
Whether you’re a longtime New Yorker or a visitor to the city, the Cats About Town tour is an experience you won’t want to miss! For updates and more information, be sure to follow us on Instagram and visit our website by clicking the link below. Some tours are already sold out, so don’t wait to book a tour this spring or summer!
CAT Walking Tour Details
Ticket Prices: Adults $40, Seniors $30
Duration: About 2 hours
Distance: Approximately 1.5 miles (LES tour has an optional 2-mile tour)
Booking Information: Visit Cats About Town Tours for more details and to book your tour
First person to spot a live cat on every tour wins a ticket for a FREE future tour!
This vintage Angora, photographed in 1898, is not Tommy, but we can imagine that he or she is.
Mrs. Mary Hall lived in the large, 5-story brick tenement at 59 East 41st Street. Mrs. Anna Staubstaudt lived next door, in a 3-story brick building with stables at 57 East 41st Street.
Mrs. Hall had a large Angora cat named Tommy. Mrs. Staubstaudt had a male cat and female cat “of the plain backyard variety.” The three cats fought often, with the plain male cat, Benny, taking most of the hits and scratches from the Angora.
Tommy was a cat of remarkable beauty, but he also had strong lungs and fighting qualities. Mrs. Hall acquired the cat in 1887, and though he often wandered the neighborhood looking to stir things up, he always returned home. That is, until the summer of 1895.
On June 16, 1895, Tommy disappeared. Mrs. Hall searched all over the house for him. She also asked all the neighborhood boys to search for him on the streets.
With a long summer trip to her country home already planned, Mrs. Hall could do nothing but leave a couple of windows open so Tommy could get back inside. She also kept one door unlocked, and asked two friends to ship him to her country house as soon as he returned to the East 41st Street home.
For four months, Mrs. Hall waited to hear news of her cat back in the city. When she returned in mid-October, she learned that Mrs. Staubstadt had Tommy “imprisoned” in her house. Mrs. Staubstadt refused to give the cat back, and even had the gall to charge Mrs. Hall for boarding the cat for the four months that she was away, the woman alleged.
“Have you that woman’s cat?” Magistrate Brann asked the cat-napper.
“Yes, I have,” Mrs. Staubstaudt firmly replied, according to The New York Times.
Then the judge made the mistake of asking her why she had not returned the cat to Mrs. Hall.
“This cat came to my house almost starved ten days after Mrs. Hall went to the country. The cat never had enough to eat.”
“What!?” shrieked Mrs. Hall. “How dare you! You stole that cat. You were always jealous of my cat.”
“I took your cat in and fed him as an act of charity, and he repaid it by clawing the fur of my dear Benny. If you think so much of Tommy, why don’t you pay for his board?”
For the next few minutes, the two women argued back and forth until Magistrate Brann jumped out of his seat and cried, “Stop!”
He told Mrs. Staubstaudt to return the cat to Mrs. Hall, but her attorney, John H. Whitney, protested. “This woman has a lien on the cat for board, the same as in the case of a stray horse picked up and boarded,” the lawyer said.
“Pshaw! Pshaw!” the magistrate retorted. “If you want to collect for the board of this cat, bring action in the civil court. Go home and get your cat, Mrs. Hall,” he said.
Then addressing Mrs. Staubstaudt, he said, “You return this woman’s cat. You have no right to it.” Cat case dismissed.
A Brief History of Park and 41st Street
The Quackinbush Farm is noted west of the Eastern Post Road on the John Randel Farm map, 1818-1820.
The apartment buildings where Mrs. Hall and Mrs. Staubstaudt lived on East 41st Street occupied the northern edge of the former 19th-century farm of James Quackinbush (aka Jacobus Quackenbos) in the Murray Hill neighborhood.
Born in 1758, James Quackinbush grew up in Tappan, New York, and served as a sergeant during the Revolutionary War. Immediately following the war, he married Leah (Lea) Demarest and got into the family business. James owned and operated a dry goods store on William Street, and he and his growing family lived in lower Manhattan.
On August 5, 1803, James acquired the title for a 15-acre farm from Thomas Cooper, Daniel McCormick, and Charles Smith for $12,700. The farm was bounded by today’s Lexington and Madison Avenues, 38th Street and 41st Street.
The Quackinbush homestead was near the intersection of present-day Park Avenue and 40th Street. Their nearest neighbor was Robert Murray, whose country seat at what he called Inclenberg (Fire Beacon Hill) was at Park Avenue and 36th Street.
Inclenberg (Murray Hill) at about Park Avenue and 37th Street. Surrounded by wide lawns and extensive gardens, and approached by a tree-lined avenue from the Eastern Post Road, the Murray’s Colonial-style home had a magnificent view of Kips Bay and the East River. The land remained a farm until the house burned down in 1835. NYPL Digital Collections
By the time James purchased the farm, the family had 10 children: 8 boys and 2 girls ranging in age from 19 to 3. The younger sons–Benjamin, Andrew, and Abraham–enjoyed digging for potatoes on their farm, right about where Grand Central Station is today. Sadly, two years after they moved to the farm, Leah Quackinbush passed away at the young age of 41.
Beginning in 1832, the construction of the New York and Harlem Railroad streetcar line along Fourth Avenue (Park Avenue) accelerated development of Murray Hill. Although Fourth Avenue north of 34th Street was still an unpaved road leading through farmland and shantytowns, it began to open up northward. By 1848, it had opened all the way through the Murray’s land to 38th Street.
Sometime after Leah passed away, James married Margaret Fake (they did not have any children). Despite all the development taking place around his farm, James continued to live at his Murray Hill home until his death on January 17, 1842.
Following his passing, the farm was divided into lots and sold at $150 per lot. New Yorkers were still not quite ready to head so far north, so sales were slow at first.
Shortly after James passed away, the family home burned down. But by 1857, as shown on this map at left, much of the old Quackinbush farm was still undeveloped.
The apartment buildings on East 41st Street where the two feuding cat ladies were living in 1895 had not yet been built either, although the Quackinbush home had been replaced by the large stables of the Madison Avenue Stage Line. This popular stage line ran between the South Ferry and 42nd Street.
In 1884, the Murray Hill Hotel was built on Fourth (Park) Avenue, right atop the site of the stage line stables and former Quackinbush homestead between 40th and 41st Street.
The apartments on East 41st Street where the cat ladies lived can been seen on the far right of this vintage image of the Murray Hill Hotel.
Less than 20 years later, the Murray Hill Hotel had competition from the much taller Hotel Belmont, which was constructed on Park Avenue between 41st Street and 42nd Street. It was one of the city’s tallest hotels at 23 stories.
The circa 1905 Hotel Belmont, Park Avenue between 41st Street and 42nd Street, towered over the Murray Hill Hotel. NYPL Digital Collections
On August 30, 1930, the newspapers reported that the city’s tallest office building–60 stories–would replace the Hotel Belmont. Although demolition began in 1931, the hotel sat vacant until 1934, when it was replaced by the Airlines Terminal building.
The older and shorter Murray Hill Hotel was razed in 1947 to make way for another modern office building. More than 100 people who had been living in the old hotel were forcefully evicted from the building in April 1947.
Aerial view of the former Quackinbush Farm, 2025. Google Earth.
In March 1934, the newly-formed New York City Housing Authority kicked off its citywide slum clearance campaign. Buildings on Cherry, Madison, Roosevelt, Oak Street, and other old streets in the Two Bridges neighborhood were razed over the years to make way for large public housing developments.
The old police station of the Third Precinct at 9 Oak Street was just about the last building to go. In fact, it took 15 years to complete the slum clearance project and raze this building.
On August 4, 1948, the 18 men and cat of the Oak Street Police Stationturned out for the last time. As soon as they walked from the circa 1870 police station, the wreckers moved in to take it down. The old station would be the last of the buildings demolished to make way for the Alfred E. Smith Houses.
After receiving their orders to report from now on to the Old Slip Police Station near the South Street Ferry, the officers and their green-eyed cat, Kilroy, left the squad room and their old stomping grounds forever. Sergeant Patrick Sullivan held Kilroy in his arms as they departed.
“I know what the bum would say if he could talk,” Sullivan told a reporter. He’d say, ‘why do we have to get out so’s a lot of citizens can move in here? There’s too many citizens living around here as it is.’ Yes, sir, I know how he feels.”
Hopefully, Sergeant Sullivan took Kilroy to the Old Slip Station. The press did not do any follow-up stories on the police and their cat.
Inspector John J. Mooney, Lieutenant Connor, and the men of the 3rd Precinct, Oak Street Station, August 4, 1948. New York Daily News
The 3rd Precinct police station at 9-11 Oak Street in 1939, 10 years before the structure was demolished. 1939 NYC tax photo
The Oak Street police station stands alone in 1949. NY Daily News photo
Oak Streetand the History of Colored School No. 4
Prior to moving into a new police station at 9 Oak Street in 1870 under the command of Captain Robert O. Webb, the police of the Fourth Ward (aka Bloody Fourth Ward) occupied an old and dilapidated former schoolhouse. This former schoolhouse was located in a “dark and gloomy” rear lot behind Nos. 9 and 11 Oak Street (see 1855 map below).
The school, Ward School No. 9 of the Fourth Ward, had about six teachers and 93 students when the city’s Public School Society sold the property to the city for $8000 in 1849. The police moved into the rear building, and the students moved out to a new school that was two miles away on West 17th Street in the Chelsea neighborhood.
Not only were residents upset that the children would have to walk two miles to their new school, but the legality of establishing the new school on West 17th was hotly contested; the Public School Society was prohibited, by law, to construct any new school without the consent of the Board of Education. The school on West 17th was established without such consent. (The Public School Society argued that they had purchased the land for the new school several years before the new law went into effect, and therefore, had every right to construct the new school on its land.)
The Oak Street Police Station is noted on this 1855 map. At this time, the station was housed in a former school building in a rear lot. All of these streets were cleared out in the late 1940s.
From 1849 to 1853, the new school at 98 West 17th Street (renumbered 128 in 1868) was Primary School Nos. 27 and 28 for white students. In 1860, it was decided to refit the school exclusively for African American students. The school was renamed Colored School No. 7, and it accompanied both primary and grammar school students. The name was changed to Colored School No. 4 in 1866. In 1884 the school became Grammar School No. 81 when the Board of Education dropped the term “Colored” from the official names of its 7 public schools for Black students.
In 1853, the Board of Education realized it would need to re-rent one of its old buildings on Oak Street to accommodate the increasing number of children in the Fourth Ward. Ward School No. 25 at 13 Oak Street accommodated about 290 children: the ground floor was a boys’ primary school (the boys then went on to Boys’ Grammar School on James Street); the second floor was the girls’ primary school; and the top floor was the Girls’ Grammar School.
The old Colored School No. 4 at 128 West 17th Street in 1940 (NYC tax photo).
As an interesting aside, in 1860, several teachers in the Fourth Ward were fired for refusing to read from the Bible in their classes. There was a rule at that time, under the Board of Education, that any teacher who did not read the Scriptures in the schools should no longer be a teacher. During a board meeting in May 1960, members of the board and the audience laughed when it was announced that the teachers had been fired for standing their ground.
In 1873, New York State passed a law prohibiting school officials from denying children access to any public school “on account of race or color.” But the law was not uniformly enforced throughout the city or state, and opinions varied on whether Black and white students should even share schools.
By 1883, the city had only 2 colored schools: No. 3 in Williamsburgh, Brooklyn, and No. 4. Colored School No. 4 was renamed Ward School No. 81 in 1894 under the supervision of the Board of Education, although it continued to exclusively serve Black students.
The Board of Education was reportedly none to pleased with the 1873 legislation. According to news reports, the board had wanted “to crowd the colored schools down, and drive them out of existence.” Additionally, because the board was so adverse to the ruling, they chose to withhold pay from the city’s 20 Black teachers through the summer months; the 3,000 white teachers all received pay advances for the summer).
The West 17th Street School closed for good in 1884. Several organizations rented the building from the city, and it also served as a section house for the Department of Sanitation for many years. The vacant building is now undergoing steps to become a NYC landmarked building.
This 1951 aerial view of the Two Bridges section of the Lower Easy Side shows the construction of the Governor Alfred E. Smith Houses between Madison (top of construction site), Catherine (right), and South streets (bottom). The Brooklyn Bridge crossing the East River can be seen in the foreground; the arch and colonnade for the Manhattan Bridge can be seen in the top right-center of the photo.
This is a photo of the city dairy at East 116th Street and 4th Avenue in 1889. I imagine that the dairy farm in this story on East 98th Street near Second Avenue looked similar. NYPL Digital Collections
The following absurd animal story, which took place on 98th Street and Second Avenue in 1903, is dedicated to my father, Roger Gavan, who passed away on March 22, 2025. My dad was one of my biggest fans, and he had a great sense of humor. He would have chuckled as he read this story. I know he’s smiling down on me now as I write it.
Cow vs Petticoat
This is a story of an East 98th Street dairy cow gone wild. Red petticoats, anchovies, a picture of the Kaiser, sausages, garlic, police, dogs, and cats also play a role in this hilarious animal tale of Old New York.
It was a balmy winter day at King’s dairy farm on East 98th Street near Third Avenue when this tale took place. Mr. King’s favorite cow was pastured behind his shop, and she was as content as any city dairy cow could be (ie, probably not too content). There was a warm breeze blowing, which enticed the women who lived in tenements surrounding the cow pasture to hang up their winter linens in the back yards.
Even in 1938, residents still hung their clothes outdoors on Third Avenue and 98th Street. NYPL Digital Collections
As the reporter for the The Sun noted, women who live in homes surrounding a cow lot should never hang red petticoats from the clothes line…
On this day in February 1903, Mrs. Muldoon’s red petticoat began to sway in the breeze. At the same time, Mrs. O’ Farrell appeared on her balcony with a load of wash. The very first item she placed on the line was a red petticoat. Across the way and just above a fence, Mike O’Fay’s red “unmentionables” flapped in the breeze.
As she looked to the east and the west and over the fence, the cow became agitated and nervous. Overcome with fear, she plowed through the front fence and headed toward Second Avenue.
At Second Avenue and 99th Street, some boys tried to catch her, causing the cow to dodge through an open door and into a delicatessen. There, she gazed at platters of liverwurst and nibbled on the tops of chives.
As the cow grazed peacefully on the herbs, the boys rushed into the front door. The proprietor, his wife, and his children rushed in from a back room at the same time. Surrounded on all sides, the cow began doing circles in the deli.
On her first revolution, the cow’s tail swatted a platter of anchovies, knocking them to the floor. Her tail then landed on a framed photo of the Kaiser, “giving a downward droop to the mustache which that monarch would never tolerate.”
During her second circle, the cow pierced a block of limburger cheese with her left horn and Swiss cheese with her right horn. As she charged out the door and began running down the street, she had “long, clinging tendrils of sausage links wound about her, garlands of garlic hung from her cheese-coated horns, and cold basket lunches were shaken from her flanks with every jump.” (Clearly, the reporter decided to have some fun with this story!)
What ensued was a parade of dachshunds chasing after the sausages, followed by numerous cats that had gotten a whiff of the cheese, and, according to police on the scene, “2,000 men, women, and children who followed the cats that followed the hounds that followed the cow with the cheesy horns.”
You just can’t make this up.
Eventually, Policeman Baker of the 39th Police Precinct Station House on East 104th Street lassoed in the cow by grabbing hold of the garland of garlic. The cow dragged him for a short distance, but he was finally able to calm her down and return her to her city pasture on East 98th Street.
Yes, this was in fact New York City, just a little more than 120 years ago.
A Brief History of East 98th Street
Early recorded history of what is now northern Yorkville and East Harlem goes back to 1647, when Jean de la Montagne, a French Huguenot physician and member of Governor-General Willem Kieft’s council, received a patent from Kieft for an area known by Native Americans as Rechawanis.
The bouwerie (or farm) on this property, called Vredendal and meaning peaceful valley in Dutch, stretched from 94th to 108th Streets, and from the East River to Eighth Avenue. During Montagne’s era, a grist mill was located on the south shore of Benson’s (or Harlem) Creek.
Montagne sold his property in 1672 to John L. Bogert, who in turn sold it to Johannes Benson in 1706. The original Montagne farm was split up among various members of the Benson family, including Margaret Benson McGown, who acquired a large tract from her father, Samson Benson, in 1821. The land came to be known as McGown’s Marshes or the Meadows at Hells Gate.
McGown’s Marshes and Prospect Hill are detailed on the 1836 map above. Also on this map is Observatory Place (top left), which was a public plaza between Fourth and Fifth Avenues and 89th and 94th Streets that opened in 1855 as a railroad tourist attraction (it closed in 1865). The tunnel at the top left of the map was 596 feet long, and was dug through Prospect Hill, one of the highest points on the East Side of Manhattan, between 92nd and 95th Streets. The Meadows at Hell Gate are in the center. The deepest point of the bay at this point was at 98th Street.
East view of Hell Gate, 1775. NYPL Digital Collections
Aside from Yorkville, at German neighborhood south of East 96th Street, little development in terms of housing occurred on the upper east side of Manhattan until the mid to late 1800s, when northward expansion necessitated the filling in of McGown’s Marshes.
In 1835, Solomon M. Levengston acquired a plot of land from Margaret McGown bounded by Third and Fourth Avenues between 97th and 98th Streets. Here, he and his son established a large floral nursery and garden. The nursery featured 10 acres of land, 4 greenhouses, and 6000 square feet of glass covering.
New York Sun, May 2, 1843
Levengston’s lots were auctioned off in 1859. At this time, the east side of Manhattan north of 42nd Street was still rural and dotted with garbage dumps, shanty towns, taverns, and rocky outcroppings. Third Avenue between 98th Street and 102nd Street was, therefore, the perfect location for cattle stockyards.
The stockyards, called the National Drove Yards, occupied 8 city blocks on the former Prospect Hill from 98th to 102nd Streets between Third and Fourth Avenues. According to one news report, there were “splendid accommodations for receiving and feed 5,000 cattle,” and on the “brow of the hill” were accommodations for 10,000 bullocks.
The National Drove Yard is shown on this 1867 map. The yards were owned by Archibald Allerton and his law partners (Dutcher and Moore).
The stockyards were paved with Belgian blocks and provided with Croton (Reservoir) water. A hotel for the cattle dealers, called Allerton’s National Drove Yard Hotel, was at Third Avenue and 100th Street. The stockyards shut down in 1866.
In 1891, when this photo was taken looking east from Park Avenue between 98th and 99th Streets, the old National Drove Yard was long gone, but the land was still rural. Mr. King’s dairy farm would have been a bit more to the east. Notice the rock outcropping on the right. Museum of the City of New York Collections
Less then 40 years after they shut down, a dairy cow escaped from a small pasture just east of the former cattle stockyards.
Based on details in The Sun news article, I believe the area circled in red on this 1891 map was the location of Mr. Kings dairy farm in 1903. NYPL Digital Collections
On Sunday afternoon, March 23, 2025, my Cats About Town Walking Tours partners and I will be hosting our second CAT Chats, an indoor alternative to our popular outdoor walking tours for winter months. The topic for discussion will be Famous Feline Mascots of Gotham.
Our March CAT Chat, which will take place at Craft + Carry Hell’s Kitchen on 9th Avenue (between 50th and 51st Streets), will focus on stories that explore some of Old New York’s most beloved and famous feline mascots who played unique roles in shaping the city’s history.
You’ll learn the little-known history of hotel mousers, including the celebrated Algonquin cat, sailors’ brave cat companions, such as the ship cat of the USS Maine, and the famous feline mascot who flew thousands of miles with the TWA pilots at LaGuardia Airport.
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 working 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 March CAT Chat. There are two options: indoor presentation only or indoor presentation plus 50% discount off a future Cats About Town tour.
Space is limited, so if you are interested in attending, click here today to reserve your spot. (And by the way, if you want to learn the history of this beer-drinking cat pictured below, you’ll have to sign up for my Lower East Side Bowery Cat Crawl tour coming this May–the story of this feline bar fly even has ties to an old dive bar called Suicide Hall!)
