Edgard Allan Poe and Caterina the cat at Poe Cottage in the Bronx
Caterina served as Poe’s muse while he lived at Poe Cottage in the Fordham section of the Bronx in the 1840s.

Many historians and fans of Edgar Allan Poe are no doubt familiar with Catarina, the cat who served as Poe’s muse while he was living in his old cottage in Fordham. But I bet you’d be hard-pressed to find many people, if any at all, who know about Jig or the other black cat of Poe Cottage.

Thanks to a lengthy article about the cottage in The New York Times in 1915, we do have proof that Jig lived in the famous Poe Cottage 70 years after the death of Caterina. An article in the Kansas City Star in 1905 also provides proof that at least one other black cat lived at the cottage.

Edgar Allan Poe, who spent many years in New York City in the 1830s and 1840s, was one of many writers of this period who received inspiration from a feline. Poe, who wrote “The Black Cat” in 1843, had at least two cats in his lifetime: one, a female he described as “one of the most remarkable black cats in the world,” and the other, a cat named Caterina who served as his muse while he was living in the Bronx.

Caterina, described as a large tortoiseshell cat, would often sit and purr on Poe’s shoulders as he wrote. She also served as a companion for Poe’s wife, Virginia, during the woman’s final years. Caterina would often lie in the bed with her to help keep her warm in the cold Fordham cottage.

Caterina in front of the Poe Cottage fireplace
Is this a depiction of Caterina in front of the Poe Cottage fireplace or was another cat living there in the 1890s?, New York Times, February 14, 1897

Sadly, Caterina’s tale does not have a happy ending: she report­edly died of starvation when Virginia’s mother, Maria Clemm (also Poe’s aunt), deserted the cat after Poe died in October 1849. But considering how many cats led deplorable lives in antebellum New York City, Caterina had a good life in the Bronx while Poe was alive and caring for her.

Poe Cottage: From Valentine to Victor

Poe Cottage, 1913
Poe Cottage as it looked when Jig the cat lived there, after it was moved into Poe Park in 1913.

The tiny cottage on Kingsbridge Road in Fordham was reportedly built in 1812 by John Wheeler on lands belonging to John B. Valentine, whose family, including the Cromwell family by marriage, owned large estates in the neighborhood.

Poe paid about $100 a year for the cottage, which had previously served as a field hands residence. The Valentines occupied a home across the way on present-day Briggs Avenue. The Valentine family often shared vegetables and milk with Poe and his family.

Valentine homestead, Fordham
The Valentine homestead in Fordham. New York Times, March 1906.

During the 19th century, the Poe Cottage had several owners. James Coles, a blacksmith, first purchased the cottage from the Valentine family. It was later owned by Henry Stony, John Berrian, and Phillip Duffey; Duffey also owned the old Fordham Hotel, beginning in 1854.

Fordham Hotel
Phillip Duffey, a one-time owner of Poe Cottage, also owned the Fordham Hotel on the corner of present-day Fordham Road and Webster Avenue, where Poe would sometimes stop to have a drink. 

In 1889, three years after a large auction, the land about Poe Cottage was laid out in building lots. William Fearing Gill, author of the book “The Life of Edgar Allan Poe,” purchased the cottage and surrounding lands to save it from destruction.

Gill sold the cottage to brothers Patrick and Charles Kary, who in turn sold the house at auction to Austin Ford (about 1890). Ford sold it to Dr. E. J. Chauvet, DDS, who saw the cottage as a good investment opportunity (for many years, he said he would not sell the cottage for anything less than $10,000).

The land around and including Poe Cottage was auctioned in 1886. NYPL digital collections.
The land (18 lots) around and including Poe Cottage (at top left) was auctioned in 1886. NYPL digital collections.

Dr. Chauvet, a dentist, built his own house near the cottage while renting Poe Cottage for a source of income. When the cottage had to be moved about 25 feet in 1896 to make room for the widening of Kingsbridge Road, it practically touched Chauvet’s own house.

One of Dr. Chauvet’s tenants was Mr. Healy, a stonecutter who lived in the cottage with his family when the cottage was smack next to Dr. Chauvet’s house (this may be Mr. Healy in the photo below).

One day in April 1905, while the Healys were living there, a reporter with camera in hand came looking for the cottage.

“Wait till I shoo that darned cat away,” a young boy told the reporter as he focused his camera on the tiny white cottage.

“Stop!” the reporter yelled, but the young buy chased the cat away, not having a clue why the reporter wanted the black cat to remain on the porch while he took the photo.

Poe Cottage and home of Dr. Chauvet, 1898
The Poe Cottage next to Dr. Chauvet’s house in 1898, two years after the cottage was moved for the widening of Kingsbridge Road.

In 1913, 11 years after New York City created Poe Park, the city acquired the cottage for $3,000. The city paid an additional $2,000 to move the house 450 feet north of its original location to the northeast corner of the new park, near the Grand Concourse and East 193rd Street.  

Orville Guy Victor was the won of Orville James Victor, a well-known author and editor of “dime novels.”

Upon acquiring the cottage, the city searched for a couple or small family who would be interested in keeping the cottage open to visitors and caring for it in lieu of rent. Oliver Guy Victor, a struggling poet who had advocated for the cottage’s removal to the park, jumped on the opportunity.

Orville, his wife, and their daughter, Marian, moved into Poe Cottage on November 5, 1913. Ten days later, the cottage was opened to the public. The small museum had few visitors at first, but by 1915, the Victors were receiving 60 to 75 visitors a day.

The Victor family lived in the upper rooms of the cottage. They also had access to the basement, which was added for their use. The basement contained the family’s kitchen, dining room, and pantry, and also included a modern furnace for a steam heating system.

One day in 1915, a visitor asked if the black cat walking about the museum was Poe’s cat. No, the Victors said, the cat was not a Poe cat nor the ghost of Caterina. He was the pet of the Victors, and his name was Jig. (Did the Victors bring the cat to the cottage, or could this have been the same cat that lived there with the Healy family in 1905?)

New York Times, August 29, 1915
New York Times, August 29, 1915
Mrs. Orville Guy Victor

Aside from this cameo appearance in The New York Times in August 1915, nothing else has been reported about Jig–at least nothing I can find. Perhaps, though, this black cat was also a muse for a poet.

Like Poe, Orville Victor was a struggling writer, and he often burned the candle at both ends to support his family. In January 1914 he suffered a nervous breakdown and was sent to a sanitarium on Long Island for 18 months.

During that time, Mrs. Victor became a champion for Poe, doing all she could to turn an empty cottage into a tribute to the poet who wrote “The Bells, “Annabel Lee,” the “The Cask of Amontillado” while living there.

Orville returned to the cottage in the spring of 1915. Working with the Bronx Society of Arts and Sciences, which was chiefly responsible for the purchase of the cottage and the creation of the park, he and his wife encouraged collectors of Poe memorabilia to lend their items to the museum. Poe’s rocking chair, bookcase, silverware, and other items began to fill Poe Cottage.

Poe’s cat, Caterina, had already crossed the rainbow decades before, but a cat named Fig took her place in the new Poe Cottage museum. The former home of Edgar Allan Poe was the perfect place for a black cat of Old New York.

Poe Cottage
Poe Cottage

Vintage dog and cat
This vintage photo is not Brownie and Flora, but for the sake of this story, let’s imagine this is the canine guardian and feline mouser of Brooklyn’s Pier 12.

Many old stories have been told of the Brooklyn-born canine and feline mascots that went to sea (like Peggy and Tom of the USS Maine, as an example), but this tale, which takes place at Pier 12 of the New York Dock Company, is about a landlubber dog and cat who patrolled the Brooklyn waterfront.

Brownie, aka Guardian of the Cats and Killer of the Rats, began his duties on the waterfront sometime around 1921. Although he patrolled many of the piers of the New York Dock Company, he was partial to Pier 12, which then served as the wharf for the Royal Netherlands Steamship Co.

(This steamship line, officially called the Koninklijke Nederlandsche Stoomboot Maats (KNSM), was founded in 1856 by a group of Dutch entrepreneurs. In 1888, it began service from Brooklyn to Haiti, Curacao, Venezuela, Trinidad, and the British and Dutch Guianas.)

During his reign, Brownie was said to be the only dog who patrolled along the waterfront. He had many accidents over the years, but apparently Brownie was like a cat in that he had several lives.

According to his owner, pier watchman Joe Santanelli, one time Brownie fell down a ship’s hatch and nearly broke his back. Another time he became wedged between two trucks and had to receive four stiches in his head. He also spent two weeks at the animal hospital after some scalding coffee accidentally spilled on him (he still bore the scars from that incident).

Even when he was an old dog in 1934, Brownie was still frisky, playful, and intelligent. His days consisted of jumping off the pier and bathing in the river, catching rats, sunning himself on the running boards of cars, and waiting in front of the ships’ galleys at high noon for handouts from the cooks who all knew and loved him.

The ship cooks were some of Brownie’s best friends, but he was also friends with more sailors, truckmen, and dock workers than anyone else in Brooklyn. His best friend, though, was Joe Santanelli. Every morning at 4:30, Brownie would sit by Pier 12 near the foot of Montague and Pierrepont Streets waiting for Joe to come to work.

Foot of Montague Street, near Pier 12, New York Dock Company, Brooklyn 1938
Every morning, Brownie would wait for his owner near Pier 12 at the foot of Montague and Pierrepont Streets, pictured here in 1938. NYPL Digital Collections

In 1933, Brownie made his first four-legged friend when a cat came walking down Pier 12 to meet Flora, one of the Royal Netherlands steamships. No cat had ever lived at Pier 12 before–probably because Brownie was always on guard–but the cat didn’t seem to mind the canine competition. The dock workers named her Flora.

For one year, Flora the cat never left Pier 12. She even gave birth to a few kittens there, including Blackie and Rosie (their father could have been any one of the six Tom cats that lived at the Red D piers adjacent to Pier 12). Flora, Blackie, and Rosie shared a bed with Brownie, and they all ate from the same food container. The cats and dog were also known as the best rat killers on the Brooklyn waterfront.

Red D Piers 9 and 10, between Pierrepont and Montague Streets
Pier 12 would be to the right.
Flora had at least one boyfriend that lived at the Red D Piers 9 and 10, between Pierrepont and Montague Streets, pictured here around 1930. NYPL Digital Collections
Brooklyn Daily Eagle, November 5, 1934
Brownie and Flora of Pier 12
Brooklyn Daily Eagle, November 5, 1934

In addition to Blackie and Rosie, who stayed at Pier 12 with their mother, Flora had several other kittens that moved on to other lives. One kitten reportedly moved into a “swanky apartment” on Riverside Drive in Manhattan. Two of her other kittens were lured by the sea and stowed away to the Caribbean aboard the Royal Netherland’s cargo ship Amor (hopefully they got off this ship before it sunk after striking a German mine in 1940).

One day in late October 1934, Flora, who was then pregnant again, stowed away on one of the Royal Netherlands ships. About a week later, poor Blackie and Rosie died of rat poisoning from the bodies of two poisoned rats.

Brooklyn waterfront, 1930
Brooklyn waterfront, New York Dock Company, 1930.

Brownie had adored Flora and her kittens, and according to Joe, he went into mourning after they were all gone. Not only did the cats help Brownie catch rats, Joe said, but they also made his life more interesting.

Joe told a reporter from the Brooklyn Daily Eagle that he and Brownie were actively searching for more cats to take the places of the departed.

With all the cats coming and going on the hundreds of ships at Pier 12 and all along the Brooklyn waterfront, I have a feeling they didn’t have to search for long. (Surely, there were a few landlubber cats that would be willing to share their duties with a kind dog.)

A Brief History of Pier 12 of the New York Dock Company

The New York Dock Company was a rail-marine terminal incorporated in July 1901, when it purchased the Brooklyn Wharf and Warehouse property from under foreclosure. The property of the dock company comprised close to three miles of waterfront, from the Brooklyn Bridge to the Erie Basin. In addition to 39 piers (which served about 19 different steamship lines), the property included more than 200 warehouses and three railroad terminals, as well as land under the water.

Map of the New York Dock Company, 1911
Map of the New York Dock Company, 1911. NYPL Digital Collections
Brooklyn Wharf and Warehouse Company

The Brooklyn Wharf and Warehouse Company was founded by a group of old monied men from the Heights, including Messrs. Pierrepont, Woodruff, Clinton, Dow, Robert, and Prentice. In the early 1800s, these men each owned a waterfront strip within walking distance of their homes, with fingertip piers for bathing, fishing, and pleasure boats. In later years, these families established stores, or warehouses, on their property. (During this time, the Heights referred to the bluff, not to the entire neighborhood.)

Hezekiah Beers Pierrepont, for example, kept a small boat at his pier, which he used to row himself to work in New York City every day. He accessed the pier via a set of stone steps along present-day Montague Street, which had once been a cow path and ditch on the old Robert Benson farm. These steps led from the Pierrepont mansion, aka The Four Chimneys, on the hill at today’s Montague Street and Pierrepont Place.

1880 map showing Pierrepont's Pier, later the site of Pier 12
1880 map showing Pierrepont’s Pier, later the site of Pier 12. Also shown are Pierrepont Stores and Prentice Stores, as well as the old Wall Street Ferry. By this time, Montague Street had been opened to the public, and the old Four Chimneys mansion had been demolished. NYPL Digital Collections
Foot of Montague Street, 1850
The Wall Street Ferry was at the foot of the cobblestoned Montague Street, which was once a private road owned by the Pierreponts that led directly to the Pierrepont mansion, The Four Chimneys. The Pierrepont Pier would have been just to the right of the ferry, and the Pierrepont Stores warehouse was across the street. The ferry closed in 1888. Museum of the City of New York.

In 1857, two of Hezekiah’s sons, Henry Evelyn and William Constable, established the Pierrepont Stores on what was then called Furman Street, a narrow, cavernous street that ran along the waterfront.

The Pierrepont Stores was described as “a United States bonded warehouse where ships’ freight was received and stored for the owners, insured by the government, until duties were paid.” The warehouse, like those of other prominent Heights’ families, was a major port of entry for products such as sugar and molasses from the Caribbean, Manilla, and other regions.

Around 1895, the Pierreponts and other families merged their stores (warehouses) into a trust called the Brooklyn Wharf and Warehouse Company. Several other commercial Brooklyn dock and warehouse companies, including the Atlantic Dock Company, also merged into the new company. The founders reportedly believed that one entity controlling all the shipping piers in Brooklyn was a sure bet. 

It was a bet they would all lose.

By the early 1900s, Pierrepont's Pier was Pier 12 of the New York Dock Company.
By 1907, Pierrepont’s Pier was the new Pier 12 and the old Pierrepont Stores was one of the many warehouses of the New York Dock Company. NYPL digital collections.

The primary business of the Brooklyn Wharf and Warehouse Company was handling grain shipments. Soon after the company formed, however, the trade in grain began to decline. This decline, combined with lower rail rates, brought about the demise of the company.

The New York Dock Company was organized and acquired all the holdings. Pier 12 was constructed in 1906-07 at a cost of $102,289. 

Furman and Montague Streets, 1929
Surrounded by the old warehouses and the Brooklyn Heights wall, Furman Street, pictured here near the foot of Montague Street in 1929, was dark and cavernous. The inland warehouses were demolished in the 1940s, and the street was replaced by the Brooklyn Queens Expressway in the 1950s. NYPL digital collections.

Sometime around 1956, the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey purchased two miles of Brooklyn waterfront from the New York Dock Company. This put in place an $85 million, seven-year development program–the greatest program of its kind ever undertaken in the New York-New Jersey Harbor–comprising the construction of 10 new piers, the rehabilitation of an existing pier, the construction of 3 new warehouses, and the improvement of 50 acres of upland area.

Under the Brooklyn-Port Authority marine terminal development plan, 25 of the existing obsolete piers, which were then up to 65 years old, were replaced with 10 wide, single-story, steel and concrete structures. The plan also replaced 44 narrow, deteriorated berths with 25 modern vessel berths.

In 1984, the Port Authority announced plans to sell the piers for commercial development. This announcement kickstarted interest and a reevaluation of the land’s value as a public resource. In 1998, after more than 10 years of grassroots movements, the Downtown Brooklyn Waterfront Local Development Corporation was created to lead a public planning process for what is now Brooklyn Bridge Park. 

Today, the old Pier 12, where Brownie and Flora once reigned as the waterfront’s greatest mousers, is now the site of Pier 3 of the Brooklyn Bridge Park. The pier opened as a park in 2018.

The Cat That Inspired the Brooklyn Heights Promenade

In one of my next posts, I will go into more detail about the Pierrepont family and farm, their Four Chimneys mansion (where George Washington established a signal tower), and a cat (or two) that inspired residents to push for the creation of the Brooklyn Heights Promenade. (Many human engineers liked to take credit for the promenade, but it was in fact a cat that got the ball rolling, so to speak.)

Brooklyn Bridge Park
Piers 3-5 of the Brooklyn Bridge Park. Google

CWA MUSE Medallion medal
CWA Muse Medallion Winner 2022

I am pleased and excited to announce that one of the three stories that I entered into the Cat Writers’ Association 2022 Communications Contest has won a prestigious Muse Medallion!

Each year, the CWA selects the best entries for a variety of categories and awards them with Certificates of Excellence. The highest-scoring Certificate-winning entry in each category receives a Muse Medallion.

For 2002, I won Certificates of Excellence for the three stories I submitted for the category “Written Article: Entertainment”:

Patches was a hero cat in December 1912 for saving five lives in a four-story building on West 31st Street.
Patches was a hero cat in December 1912 for saving five lives in a four-story building on West 31st Street.

My story about Bertha, Patches, Minnie, and other hero cats who saved the lives of humans and kittens in emergency situations was the winner! I will add my new Muse Medallion to the one I received in 2020 for my book, The Cat Men of Gotham.

I also want to give a quick and well-deserved shout-out to all the judges who volunteer their time every year to review the hundreds of entries for the CWA Communications Contest, to all the women who serve on the CWA board, and to all the sponsors that support the CWA and the Muse Medallion Awards.

Next year, I hope to convince the CWA to add a new and much-needed category to its Communications Contest: Cats in History. I do write my stories to entertain my readers, but I also write them to educate people about the role cats have played in the history of New York City. If they do add this category, you can be sure I will be submitting several articles for consideration of a 2023 Muse Medallion!

A black cat’s bad luck turned when two policemen of New York’s Harbor Police plucked him from the Hudson River.

Jack and Jeter Black cats
There are no photos of Mike and Fanny. These are my cats, Jack and Jeter.

On September 19, 1904, Captain William Dean of the NYPD Harbor Police contacted the New York Times to brag about the rescue of a large black cat.

According to Captain Dean, it was shortly after the dinner hour when Roundsman Harry Dolbert and Policemen Robinson and Van Tassel rowed their boat from the North River (Hudson River) to Pier A at the Battery. There, Roundsman Dolbert saw a large black cat clinging to the rudder of the steamboat J.S. Warden, which was docked at the adjacent Pier 1.

Pier A, home to the Harbor Police, and Pier 1, 1897 map.
Pier A and Pier 1 are noted on this 1897 map. Pier A still stands; Pier 1 is now the site of the Robert F. Wagner, Jr. Park, which was built on landfill from the World Trade Center site.
Pier 1, Battery
The old Pier 1 at the Battery, about 1934. This and other piers were covered over to create Battery Park.

By the time the men came upon the cat, he had already lost eight of his nine lives attempting to gain a pawhold on the steamer. The policemen rowed over to the steamboat; Robinson reached over, grabbed the cat, and placed him in the rowboat.

The men then made their way to Pier A, which is where the Patrol, the steel, twin-screw steamer of the Harbor Police, was docked. They brought the black cat into the galley of the boat, where they fed him hot milk and chicken. Then the cat was taken to the boiler room to dry out.

While the rescued cat, which the men named Mike, was getting warm in the boiler room, Fanny, another black cat, emerged from the coal bunkers and walked in on the feline intruder. Fanny, a Brooklyn seafaring cat, had joined the Patrol only two weeks earlier when the boat was being repaired at the Erie Basin. Needless to say, Fanny did not like the competition, and so she was quite rude to Mike.

Lucky for Mike, the men of the Harbor Police decided they could use another cat on their boat. However, they also agreed that Fanny would still have full reign of the boat, while Mike would have to relegated to the forecastle. Not a bad deal, really, when you consider Mike’s alternative had the Harbor Police not come to his rescue.

Pier A and the Harbor Police

NYD Harbor Police, 1897
The Harbor Police in 1897.

In 1904, when this story took place, the Harbor Police had 75 officers divided among two stations—one at Pier A at the Battery and one at 122nd Street on the Harlem River. Captain William Dean was in charge of both stations.

The special marine unit covered 320 miles of waterfront (from just below Yonkers to Rockaway) using rowboats (which were quieter at night, and thus, better equipped for sneaking up on river pirates), and the swift seagoing tug, Patrol.

The Patrol was built at Sparrow’s Point, Maryland, and launched on November 19, 1893, from Baltimore. The steel boat replaced another older steamer, also called Patrol.

Pier A, home to the Dock Department and Harbor Police, 1919.
Pier A, home to the Department of Docks and Harbor Police, 1919.

Before the station house at Pier A was completed in 1886, the men of the Harbor Police all lived and slept on the old steamer. The new twin-screw boat had only two small staterooms and was used primarily for special occasions. Click here to watch a 1903 Thomas Edison film of the Patrol going after river pirates.

In 1884, the New York Department of Docks began making plans for a headquarters building. At this same point in time, the New York Police Department was in need of a pier and station house to accommodate the Harbor Police and the old Patrol steamship. Construction began in September 1884 and was completed in 1886.

The brick and terra cotta building featured a frame tower over that river, which the police used as a lookout for river pirates (smugglers). The Harbor Police occupied the north section of the pier and the Docks Department used the rest of the building to store maps and records.

In 1900, a three-story addition was built at the shore-end of the pier; an additional story was added towards the shore end in 1904. The Department of Docks eventually left Pier A in 1959, and the Department of Marine and Aviation moved in for use as the headquarters of the FDNY fireboat fleet

The FDNY occupied the pier as a fireboat station from 1960 to 1992.
The FDNY occupied the pier as a fireboat station from 1960 to 1992.

Over the years, the Victorian pier has undergone numerous and extensive renovations. Pier A was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1975 and was designated a New York City landmark in 1977.

When the FDNY left in 1992, the pier was left vacant with plans to develop it into a public space. This project was delayed for many years, but Pier A Harbor House was finally opened to the public in November 2014.

Pier A Harbor House, former home of the Harbor Police
Pier A Harbor House

Robert J. Wagner Jr Park
Robert J. Wagner Jr. Park now occupies the spot where a black cat named Mike once clung to life on a steamboat docked at Pier 1. Pier A Harbor House is to the left.

Baltimore the fire dog. From Fire Fighters and Their Pets, 1907
Baltimore the fire dog. From Fire Fighters and Their Pets, 1907

At 10:50 a.m. on February 7, 1904, Fire Patrolman Archibald McAllister discovered smoke coming from the basement of the wholesale dry goods house of John E. Hurst and Company in downtown Baltimore, Maryland. Ten minutes after he turned in an alarm, the roof and floors of the Hurst building had fallen.

By the time firemen arrived, the building was engulfed in flames, and the harbor winds were fanning the fire toward the downtown district. For more than two days the fire raged eastward, consuming an area of more than 140 acres, destroying fifteen hundred office and manufacturing buildings, and leaving twenty-four blocks of Baltimore’s business district “a graveyard of smoking black embers.”

As the fire spread, Baltimore Fire Chief George W. Horton sent telegrams to Washington and Philadelphia requesting the neighboring cities to rush all available apparatus to his city. The following day, David J. Smyth, Philadelphia’s Director of Public Safety, contacted FDNY Acting Fire Chief Charles Washington Kruger at his headquarters on Great Jones Street with Engine 33. He explained that Philadelphia’s fire engines were incompatible with Baltimore’s salt-water hydrants, and all help was needed.

With orders from New York City Mayor George B. McClellan, who told the chief to round up as many engine companies as he thought he could spare, Chief Kruger alerted the Pennsylvania Railroad and Jersey Central that flat cars would be needed at a moment’s notice. Then he assigned the following companies to the Baltimore detail: Engine 5 on East 14th Street, Engine 7 on Charles Street, Engine 12 on William Street, Engine 13 on Wooster Street, Engine 16 on East 25th Street, Engine 26 on West 37th, Engine 27 on Franklin Street, Engine 31 on Elm (Lafayette) Street, Engine 33 on Great Jones Street, and Ladder 6 on Charles Street.

The first six companies were under the command of First Battalion Chief John P. Howe. The other four companies were under the command of Foreman Behler of Engine 33. Both crews took special boats to Jersey City, where trains of the Central Railroad of New Jersey and Pennsylvania Railroad were waiting for them.  The firemen boarded coaches, the horses boarded  box cars, and giant steam cranes loaded the engines, tenders, and ladder truck onto flat cars.

Baltimore Fire of 1904. Library of Congress
Baltimore Fire of 1904. Library of Congress

In total, 105 men responded with about 19 pieces of apparatus, 60 horses, and 12,000 feet of hose. It took three hours and 34 minutes for the express trains to reach Baltimore.

When the men arrived in Baltimore, they headed to West Falls Avenue on the waterfront. There, they helped stop the fire from jumping across Jones Falls to the factories and lumber mills on the other side of the narrow neck of water.

It was during their brief time in Baltimore that a stray dog began following the members of Engine Company 26. The men called him Baltimore and decided to make him their mascot. The dog seemed agreeable to the arrangement and traveled back to New York via train to his new firehouse home.

Baltimore Fire of 1904. Library of Congress
Baltimore Fire of 1904. Library of Congress

When the firemen arrived back in Jersey City the following evening, the dog was with them. As the members of Engine 26 boarded the ferryboat to return to New York, Baltimore ran ahead of the horses, who seemed pleased to share his company. The ferryman tried to corral the dog, but the firemen yelled, “Let Baltimore alone!” as they explained that the dog belonged to them.

During his first few days at the firehouse on West 37th Street, Baltimore refused to eat any kind of meat except ham. The men thought he might be a seafaring dog who only ate oysters. But then a dog fancier suggested dog biscuits, which he took to “like a child to ice cream.”

The men determined that he must have been the dog of an aristocrat. As one man noted, “A dog reveals the manners of his master.”

Engine 26, 220 West 37th Street. NYC Department of Records, 1940.
Engine 26, 220 West 37th Street. NYC Department of Records, 1940.

On February 13, the reporters who had traveled to Baltimore presented the dog with a collar of heavy leather, decorated with brass studs. The collar had a plate bearing the inscription, “Baltimore, Feb. 9, 1904. A Waif from the Flames.” The firemen told the reporters that Baltimore was a foxhound, “or if he ain’t that, he is of a breed not to be questioned, because if he is different from standard breeds he is a breed all to himself.”

Baltimore was afraid of the reporters at first, perhaps because they didn’t look or smell as they did on the train, covered in soot and reeking of smoke. He hid behind his firemen friends until he saw them welcome the strangers into their firehouse. When a reporter placed the collar on his neck, he strutted around to show it off in front of the horses.

There are no further reports of Baltimore, albeit he was featured in Alfred Downe’s “Fire Fighters and Their Pets,” which was published in 1907, and he will also be featured in my upcoming book, “The FDNY Mascots of Gotham.”

Engine 26, West 37th Street
Engine 26