A resident of Camp Thomas Paine with pet pigs Herbert Hoover and Andy Mellon.
A resident of Camp Thomas Paine with pet pigs Herbert Hoover and Andy Mellon. The pigs were two of many animals that lived at the colony. They were eventually sold to a farmer to raise funds for the colony’s communal bank account. New York Daily News

The following story explores Camp Thomas Paine in Riverside Park, one of the many Depression-era Hoovervilles (aka tent cities or shanty towns) that proliferated public parks in New York City in the 1930s.

This story is more than a simple tale about two pet pigs that lived among the 125 men at Camp Thomas Paine. It is a story about a fascinating commune of WWI veterans who thought out of the box, so to speak, to survive in 52 makeshift shacks along the Hudson River from 1932 to 1934.

And it is, in part, a commentary on a sad and shameful period in our country’s history.

Some of the Camp Thomas Paine shanties that lined the river along Riverside Drive from 72nd to 79th Street.
Some of the Camp Thomas Paine shanties that lined the river along a scenic backdrop of residences for the more affluent on Riverside Drive from 72nd to 79th Street. New York Public Library

The Resourceful Beginnings of Camp Thomas Paine

In August 1934, an auction took place at Patrick Joseph Cain’s theatrical storage warehouse at 530 West 41st Street. Described as a “red-brick mausoleum,” Cain’s warehouse was the final resting place of all Broadway shows, good and bad.

About 100 people attended the auction, in search of West Point uniforms, boxes of humming bird dress ornaments, Japanese trees made of shells, three large mechanical elephants, a mechanical cow used by W.C. Fields, a saddle that Will Rogers used on a prop horse, and photographs of famous Broadway stars. All of these items had been featured in a series of elaborate theatrical revue productions on Broadway called the Ziegfeld Follies.

Noticeably missing from the auction was the scenery once used on the stages to prop up the famous chorus girls known as the Ziegfeld Girls. According to the press, the canvas sets and lumber had all found its way to Riverside Park two years earlier, in August 1932, where it was used to construct some of the shanties and other structures for the veterans who founded Camp Thomas Paine.

Ziegfeld's Broadway Productions
Lumber and canvas sets from the elaborate Ziegfeld Follies stage sets were used to build some of the frame shanties at Camp Thomas Paine.

Using the stage lumber was one of the many ways the down-and-out men demonstrated their resourcefulness. By the time the veterans were evicted from the colony in May 1934, they had established a large garden, a mess hall with a communal kitchen and cook stove, and a rec hall with a stone fireplace. They also received a faucet for running water and street lamps from the city, and set up a savings account at the Corn Exchange Bank.

From the Anacostia Flats to Riverside Park

Camp Thomas Paine was founded by 75 jobless World War I veterans who had previously taken part in a large group of suffering and desperate vets called the Bonus Expeditionary Forces (BEF). The goal of the of the BEF was to get a government-promised bonus payment of $1 a day immediately, rather than wait until 1945, as the federal Bonus Act stipulated.

Led by Walter W. Walters, the veterans occupied camps and buildings in several locations in the District of Columbia from May to July 1932.

On July 28, 1932, Attorney General William Mitchell ordered the DC police to remove the veterans from government property. Although the men had an ally in Brigadier General Pelham D. Glassford–now superintendent of the DC police–they could not beat General Douglas MacArthur, Major Dwight D. Eisenhower, and Major George S. Patton.

Once these top military men received orders from President Herbert Hoover to shut down the camps, the Army troops advanced with tanks, bayonets, and tear gas to drive the men out and across the bridge.

The Bonus Expeditionary Forces camp on Anacostia Flats, Washington, DC. Library of Congress
The largest BEF camp was this shantytown on the Anacostia Flats, across the river from Washington’s Navy Yard. Library of Congress

The Washington Daily News called the military ambush “A pitiful spectacle” to witness “the mightiest government in the world chasing unarmed men, women, and children with Army tanks. If the Army must be called out to make war on unarmed citizens, this is no longer America.”

Having been driven from their camps in the nation’s capital, 75 men headed north to New York City to set up Camp Thomas Paine. They named the main “road” through their colony Glassford Avenue in honor of the DC police superintendent. Each shack was given a numbered address and christened with comical names such as Grand Hotel, Rain Inn, and The House That Jack Built.

Camp Thomas Paine shacks
The men numbered their wood and tin shacks on Glassford Avenue, named them, and spruced them up with rock gardens and patches of grass. NYPL

Commander John B. Clark

John B. Clark, Commander of Camp Thomas Paine
Commander John B. Clark

The chosen leader of the camp was Commander John B. Clark, who ran the commune like a military facility.

Only men with an honorable discharge were allowed, and they all had to abide by military discipline. The men took turns doing guard duty, and no liquor (not even beer), women, or children were permitted in the camp. Violators of camp rules were expelled.

For two years, as many as 125 war veterans of multiple races and nationalities lived and worked in harmony. They carried barrels of water into the camp for cooking and cleaning (until the city installed a faucet), collected driftwood from the river to burn in their fireplace, and gathered loam in wheelbarrows to create a vegetable garden where there was once only stones and cinders.

The men also built a rec hall that was paneled with partitions from a branch office of the failed Bank of United States. The hall also featured canvas sets from “A Night in Paris,” “Naughty Naughty,” “Three’s a Crowd,” and many other Broadway shows–all courtesy of Cain’s theatrical storage warehouse.

Bank of United States - Wikipedia
Crowds outside the Bank of United States when it failed in 1931. The bank run on the Bronx branch is said to have started the collapse of banking during the Great Depression. The men of Camp Thomas Paine used some of the lumber from one of the closed branches.
The rec hall at Camp Thomas Paine featured a large open fireplace, where in colder months the men would sit, read, smoke, chat, and play checkers. Daily News
The rec hall featured a large open fireplace, where in colder months the men would sit, read, smoke, chat, and play checkers. New York Daily News
Camp Thomas Paine resident Joseph Colombe

Life at Camp Thomas Paine

Although the men took pride in their independence and never begged on the streets, they weren’t too proud to accept charity. The Horn & Hardart company donated 24-hour-old baked goods to the camp every day. This allowed the men to eat pie twice a day, except on Mondays.

They also received bags of potatoes, onions, oysters, clams, and meat from community leader and activist Lewis S. Davidson, for whom the Lewis Davidson Houses in the Bronx are named. Jacob Klein, a lawyer, sent the men a $5 check every week. And their neighbor, Charles Schwab, sent the men excess produce from his farm in Pennsylvania.

An aerial view of Camp Thomas Paine along the Hudson River, 72nd to 79th Street, in 1933.
An aerial view of Camp Thomas Paine along the Hudson River, 72nd to 79th Street, in 1933. New York Daily News

While food was always available, the men did not have all they needed to fully live even a semi-comfortable life. There were very few coats for the men in the winter, and men’s suits were in short supply. The camp did not provide coal and kerosene, which the men needed to keep their shacks lighted and warm, and there was no facility for the men to take showers.

Sometimes the men would find odd jobs, such as shoveling snow, polishing automobiles, or scrapping newspapers and metal. They would turn in their money to the camp communal fund, which was kept in an account at the Corn Exchange Bank (at one point the account had about $105). Monies in this fund were used to purchase milk and sugar and other needed supplies.

If any man found a steady job, he was allowed to stay at the camp for one more week; he also had to contribute a third of his pay for that week. Then he was asked to move out to make room for someone less fortunate on the waiting list.

Charles M. Schwab house, Riverside Dr. at 74th St, New York City. Maurice  Hebert, architect.
Charles H. Schwab, who lived across the street from Camp Thomas Paine at 73rd-74th Streets, paid the men 50 cents an hour plus hot meals to shovel his property in winter.

The Pets of Camp Thomas Paine

One of the most unusual elements of the settlement was the corral filled with pet animals, including the two pigs and dozens of rabbits, turkeys, ducks, and chickens. (As The New York Times noted, the camp was a sanctuary for every living thing that was an outcast, miserable, or unwanted.)

These animals, for the most part, were the men’s pets. Commander Clark told a reporter, “Nothing that enters this camp alive will ever be killed.”

The pigs–Andy Mellon and Herbert Hoover–were a gift from the Veterans of Foreign Wars. At first, the men intended to eat the pigs. But the pigs were so friendly–they would follow the men around like pets dogs would do–they didn’t have the heart to kill their new companions.

Clark told one reporter, “They’re eating what’s left of our food. But they have become our pets; if we killed them the boys couldn’t eat them. If we sell them someone else will eat them.”

They eventually sold the pigs to a farmer for $5. The men later learned that either Mellon or Hoover was not properly named, as one had given birth to several piglets.

By the spring of 1933, the camp had three pet turkeys and two ducks, which swam in an old iron sink that was sunk in the ground. They also received three rabbits, which turned into 24 rabbits a few months later.

One of the bunnies was the gift of a little boy who had received the rabbit as a present for Easter. His family wouldn’t let him keep it in the house, so he brought it to the camp so the men could care for it.

Camp Thomas Paine
New York Public Library
Many of the men moved out in the summer because, as the Daily News noted, “summer was worse than winter in a place like that. In Winter two men can crowd into a little box and keep warm, but the Summer heat will make such crowding a torture.” NYPL

In addition to the barnyard animals, there was at least one domesticated dog and one cat that lived at Camp Thomas Paine.

According to The New York Times, a Philippine veteran named Estanasiao Labo had a fox terrier and a gray cat that had a “curious smudge” on its nose. Labo reportedly spent a lot of time sprucing up his shack for the holiday season; when a reporter came to visit, the dog was lying in front of his door and the cat was snoozing on a pile of boards. Commander Clark told the reporter, “Yes, I think the happiest man would be Labo.”

Robert Moses and the Demise of Camp Thomas Paine

Camp Thomas Paine
New York Daily News, May 1, 1934
New York Daily News, May 1, 1934. Eight days prior, the men burned eight of the shacks during a farewell party.

In April 1934, Parks Commissioner Robert Moses ordered Camp Thomas Paine be vacated by May 1 so that the land below the New York Central railroad tracks could be improved by the Park Department. Lewis S. Davidson attempted to have the eviction postponed, or to at least obtain other unused park space for the colony in order to keep the men together.

On April 30, the Board of Aldermen passed a resolution censoring Moses for ordering the eviction. Fusionist Alderman Lambert Fairchild charged Moses with favoring “steam-shovel” government, stating that by destroying the veteran’s colony, the commissioner “was wiping out a most interesting development that has earned the approval of a distinguished neighbor and one of the best fellows in my district, Charles M. Schwab.”

Moses scoffed at the resolution, calling it “just cheap politics.” He said, “I don’t take their action seriously. How can we progress on the West Side Improvement without removing all encroachment along the river?” 

Off to Camp LaGuardia at Greycourt

On May 1, 1934, 200 homeless men left in five buses from the Department of Welfare offices for Greycourt, New York. There, they would become farmers at a new city farm colony for unemployed men.

Eight of the men on these buses were former residents of Camp Thomas Paine, who had all expressed an interest in farm living. (Most of the veterans told the press that they did not apply for the colony, because they had once been white-collar professionals and were not cut out to be farmers.)

The main building at the city farm colony, one of about a dozen brick buildings near the Greycourt railroad depot in Orange County that had served as a women's prison until 1934.
The main building at the Greycourt farm colony. Built by New York City in 1918, and located about 55 miles northwest of Manhattan, the site had served as a women’s prison until 1934, when it was turned over to the city’s welfare department. New York Daily News

The chosen men, all between the ages of 25 and 45, would be responsible for preparing the land for the thousands of homeless and unemployed men to follow. It was expected that 500 men would be living on the farm by the end of May 1934, but the colony could accommodate over 1,000 residents.

In 1935, the city farm colony was renamed Camp LaGuardia for New York City’s Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia. It remained a shelter for the city’s homeless men for over 70 years.

In addition to over 200 acres of farmland, the colony at Greycourt had 400 pigs. Unfortunately for these pigs, they were not pets like those at Camp Thomas Paine.

Shut down in 2007 under Mayor Michael Bloomberg and purchased by Orange County for $8.2 million, the old Camp LaGuardia remains vacant. Several bidders have taken interest in the property; a team of prospective buyers recently bid $1.2 million, with plans to create a hotel, housing for artisans and athletes, and a sports dome on the 258-acre property.

For now, I will think of the veterans of Camp Thomas Paine and their pet pigs whenever I pass by the remnants of Camp LaGuardia while walking with my mom on the nearby Orange County Heritage Trail.

Aerial view of the former Camp LaGuardia adjacent to the Heritage Rail Trail.
Aerial view of the former Camp LaGuardia adjacent to the Heritage Rail Trail.

The Federal Hall replica, designed by architect Joseph H. Freedlander, in Bryant Park. The plaster was tooled to look like stone, and the front was painted with ground marble. Humans did not take much interest in it, but it made a great winter home for some stray cats and a flock of pigeons. Museum of the City of New York.

In 1932, the George Washington Bicentennial Planning Committee partnered with Sears, Roebuck and Company to construct a wood and plaster replica of Pierre Charles L’Enfants’s Federal Hall at Bryant Park. The structure was erected to celebrate the 200th anniversary of Washington’s birthday, and to honor his inaugural speech made at Federal Hall on Wall Street on April 30, 1789.

New York City Parks Commissioner Robert Moses hoped that the replica would attract more people to Bryant Park. The park had been neglected and partly destroyed over the years, due to the construction of the Sixth Avenue Elevated rail in 1878 and later, the digging of the IRT tunnel in 1922. By the early 1930s, the park had become a haven for homeless humans and was considered a disreputable eyesore.

Bryant Park in 1925. MCNY collections
Bryant Park in 1925. MCNY collections
Bryant Park in 1926, showing the park’s grassy terraces and the New York Public Library.

The Federal Hall replica opened to the public on April 30, 1932. Unfortunately, the building did not achieve its lofty goals.

According to the Daily News, few people chose to pay the 25-cent admission fee to view the interior of the building. On some days, there would be only three or four paying customers who could afford such a price. With 33 paid employees required to perform for attendees, there was no way the commission could ever repay the $80,000 it owed Sears when it was only bringing in 75 cents or a dollar a day.

The Federal Hall replica was constructed behind the New York Public Library. Museum of the City of New York
The 95- by 59- by 48-foot tall Federal Hall replica was constructed behind the New York Public Library and next to the park’s terrace. Museum of the City of New York

In order to raise much-needed funds, the city’s park department allowed the commission to hold several events at the building, including vaudeville acts and opera performances, courtesy of the Puccini Grand Opera Company. Those efforts were also huge flops with the public.

In August 1932, 50 members of Company A, 16th Infantry, tried to take over the site by setting up tents and talking about military and aerial warfare to anyone who would stop to listen. The city park department saw this as an invasion and ordered the police to kick out the military men.

A reporter for the Daily News questioned, “Having let Federal Hall and hot dog stands into Bryant Park, why should the Park Department complain if the Army, the Navy, the Knights of Columbus and the Ku Klux Klan want to follow along and hold reunions and barbecues there, too?”

Federal Hall in Bryant Park. New York Public Library collections
A few dozen people line up to see Federal Hall in Bryant Park. New York Public Library collections

To add insult to injury for New Yorkers, more than three quarters of Bryant Park was fenced in and cut off to the pubic, unless people wanted to pay a quarter to get in. (The commission told the city the replica would take up only two percent of the park’s total area, and there was never a mention of an admittance fee when it was proposed.)

It was originally thought the structure would come down when the bicentennial celebration ended on November 26, and that the park would be restored to its former state. But a week before the celebrations came to the end, the special commission had still not decided whether to tear the building down or let it remain standing to serve as a free employment agency for women or a central relief station.

Grover A. Whalen
Grover A. Whalen

Former New York City Police Commissioner Grover A. Whalen, who chaired the bicentennial commission, explained that several welfare agencies were interested in the structure due to its central location. (This was the era of the Great Depression; there was a great need for services and lodging, with many of the city’s poor living in the Hooverville at Central Park.)

However, Whalen said he could not imagine the Federal Hall being used as a soup kitchen for the needy. He also promised that it would never be used as a lodging place for the homeless (human, that is; the promise apparently did not apply to the Bryant Park cats!).

On November 15, Whalen told the press the commission would make its decision within ten days. He also said he was talking with Mrs. William Randolph Hearst about potential philanthropic uses for the patriotic building.

Ten weeks later, the Federal Hall replica was still standing, with no plans in place for charitable causes.

“Forlorn and friendless,” as the Daily News described it at the end of November, Federal Hall was pretty much deserted save for a few alley cats and a flock of pigeons that took up their abode in it.

A black cat perches atop the little-used admission booth for Federal Hall at Bryant Park.
A black-and-white cat perches atop the little-used admission booth for Federal Hall at Bryant Park.

The Felines of Federal Hall

By the end of 1932, what the New York press called an “$80,000 white elephant” was partially boarded up and occupied by only a family of stray cats, who “frisked in and out of holes in its crumbling walls.”

The felines had no difficulty making their way in and out of the structure. Thanks to a December snowstorm, the structure had taken on the appearance of an old Roman ruin, with numerous gaps in the plaster.

Vandals had also lifted off pieces of the Hall to keep as souvenirs (much like they did with the Dewey Arch on Fifth Avenue three decades earlier, which resulted in a cozy plaster home for a mother cat to give birth to her kittens).

Inside the Federal Hall replica. Looks like a very nice home for a pair of stray cats! Museum of the City of New York
Inside the Federal Hall replica. This looks like a very nice home for a family of New York City stray cats. Museum of the City of New York

In the rear of the ruined structure, which was once a beautiful, grass-carpeted “beauty spot of mid-Manhattan,” were piles of rotting lumber and debris. The cats turned the chaotic mess into their own special playground.

In September 1932, the Daily News poked at fun of Federal Hall with the caption, "Hurrah! The Federal Hall replica in Bryant Hall has a customer (arrow.) He's walking along a barren waste that was dotted only by empty benches at 5 p.m."
In September 1932, the Daily News poked at fun of Federal Hall with the caption, “Hurrah! The Federal Hall replica in Bryant Hall has a customer (arrow.) He’s walking along a barren waste that was dotted only by empty benches at 5 p.m.” Daily News, September 23, 1932
In this photo, you can see the fenced-in Federal Hall. The benches on the other side of the fence are filled with members of a local gang called Sons of Rest (these young men thrived on leisure interrupted by thievery and trips to jail), but they are facing away from the building. Daily News, September 23, 1932
In this photo, you can see the fenced-in Federal Hall. The benches on the other side of the fence are filled with members of a local gang called Sons of Rest (these young men thrived on leisure interrupted by thievery and trips to jail), but they are facing away from the building. Daily News, September 23, 1932
Parks Commissioner Walter R. Herrick (1877-1953)
Parks Commissioner Walter R. Herrick (1877-1953)

On December 31, 1932, Parks Commissioner Walter Richmond Herrick told the Washington Bicentennial Commission to take immediate steps to remove the flimsy structure from Bryant Park. But by January 2, the first workday of the new year, no steps had been taken to demolish the cats’ home.

Colonel Leopold Phillipp, executive chairman of the commission, promised again that it would be torn down in February. (According to the Daily News, Phillipp wasn’t an advocate for the building’s removal; as he told the press, “We think it is a shame to destroy this beautiful building, which, after all, is in a park that was just a hangout for bums before we took it over.”)

Fortunately for the cats and pigeons, the building remained standing for a few more months, providing them with shelter through the winter.

A policeman stationed to watch over the remains of Federal Hall.
A policeman stationed to watch over the remains of Federal Hall. New York Daily News

Finally, on March 30, 1933, the city made an official announcement that Federal Hall was coming down. Demolition began in April; by June, all that remained of the structure were the eight steel girders that supported the roof of the building.

A view of the Federal Hall demolition from the New York Public Library.
A view of the Federal Hall demolition from the New York Public Library. April 1933. NYPL
Bryant Park undergoing reconstruction following the removal of Federal Hall.
Bryant Park undergoing reconstruction following the removal of Federal Hall. The estimated cost to rebuild the park was $125,000 — not including the costs to demolish Federal Hall. NYPL

Mary Kane and the Bryant Park Cats

Federal Hall being demolished in April 1933.
Federal Hall being demolished in April 1933. NYPL

I do not know what happened to the cats living in Federal Hall after it was torn down. However, I do know that the stray cats of Bryant Park had a benefactor named Mary Kane.

According to an article published in the Daily News in 1934, Mary Kane was a poor woman who attended to a blind man who operated a late-night newsstand at Bryant Park.

Every day at 4 a.m., Mary would guide the man to an uptown trolley at Third Avenue and 42nd Street. Even in the winter, Mary would often be barefoot and wearing the thinnest of coats.

According to the paper, Mary often lugged a package along while she led the man to his trolley. Inside that package was a stray cat from Bryant Park.

After she saw that the blind man was safely aboard his uptown trolley, she would take another car south to 23rd Street. Then she would carry the stray cat to the ASPCA dispensary on 24th Street and Avenue A.

New York ASPCA dispensary on Avenue A and 24th Street.
Mary Kane took the Bryant Park stray cats to this facility on Avenue A and 24th Street.

Sometimes Mary used a cardboard box to carry the cats. Other times, she used a knitted sack made for carrying oranges or other fruit.

Once at the shelter, that cats would be well provided and cared for. If it looked like the cat would make a suitable pet, or if it showed signs of having once been someone’s pet, every effort was made to find it a home.

Mary never received any fame or fortune for saving these cats. Like many women, she felt sorry for the cats, especially those that got all the bad breaks in life.

As the reporter noted, several times a week, for about six or seven years, “Mary Kane, a poor young thing whom the big town has overlooked, has captured a stray cat and taken it to the SPCA.”

Cats in the Mews: December 26, 1922

Minnie of the RMS Cedric with her three kittens on December 26, 1922
Minnie of the RMS Cedric with her three kittens on December 26, 1922

On this day in 1922, Minnie, the ship cat of the RMS Cedric, was honored for saving 36 lives (herself and her three kittens). The rescue took place during a severe storm in the Atlantic Ocean that disrupted Atlantic shipping and damaged or completely destroyed numerous steamships heading toward New York.

According to the Daily News, Minnie had presented her sailor friends with a litter of kittens two days before the RMS Cedric left Liverpool. During the storm, Seaman Blackburn took the kittens for a bath (I have no idea why he would do this).

Minnie thought he had carried the kittens up to the deck, so she went up the hatchway in search of them. A giant wave rushed over the ship, catching Minnie in the flood of water. She was almost swept overboard, but she was able to sink her claws into a rope ladder and hold on for dear life.

Built in Belfast, Ireland, the RMS Cedric launched on August 21, 1902.  Its maiden voyage was February 11, 1903. Its last voyage was September 5, 1931. The ship could accommodate 365 first-class, 160 second-class, and 2,350 third-class passengers.
Built in Belfast, Ireland, the RMS Cedric launched on August 21, 1902. Its maiden voyage was February 11, 1903. Its last voyage was September 5, 1931. The ship could accommodate 365 first-class, 160 second-class, and 2,350 third-class passengers.

When Blackburn heard that Minnie was on deck, he went up to get her. As he was reaching down to grab her, another wave broke over the ship, and man and mother cat came perilously close to being tossed into the sea.

Luckily, the two were able to make it safely back down below decks. The ship arrived at Pier 59 (Chelsea Piers) a few days late, but there were no reported deaths or injuries, human or feline.

Numerous Ships Lost or Delayed

New York Daily News, December 27, 1922

The SS Cedric of the White Star line, known as a storm fighter, suffered less damage than many other ships during what was called one of the most severe storms in many years. The twin-screw steamships Celtic, New Columbia, Zeeland, Carmania, and United States all bore battle signs when they berthed in New York the day after Christmas. On all of the ships, lifeboats had been swept away, railings were smashed, and decks were wiped clean of anything that hadn’t been lashed down tightly.

The RMS Cedric was in the best condition, but the white salt lines high up on her stacks showed that the ship had gone through a horrendous gale. According to the sailors, at times the wind velocity was measured at 100 miles per hour in what appeared to be a succession of storms. Captain G.R. Metcalfe told the press it was the worst storm he had ever experienced in his twenty years at sea.

Passengers on the ships also reported a fearful voyage; those who were able and courageous enough to watch “the boiling sea” through the storm ports declared it “the most magnificent spectacle they had ever seen, with towering waves, flung spray and foaming water coursing over the decks.”

The Famous Big Four

White Star Line Famous Big 4 - RMS Adriatic, RMS Baltic, RMS Cedric, and RMS Celtic dated 16 April 1909.
The famous Big Four of the White Star Line were the Adriatic, Baltic, Cedric, and Celtic.

The famous Big Four of the White Star Line were the largest steamers sailing regularly between New York and Liverpool, calling at Queenstown both eastbound and westbound. The Adriatic and the Baltic were each 725 feet long; the Cedric and the Celtic were 700 feet in length. All four ships were launched before White Star introduced the Titanic and the Olympic.

From a White Star Line brochure dated April 16, 1909:

TRAVELERS who frequently cross the Atlantic nearly always acquire a preference for a specific ship, admiring it, perhaps, for many good qualities, such as steadiness in all weathers, reliable comfort, splendid cuisine, pleasant officials and efficient staff, or any of a dozen other equally good reasons.

Everyone of the White Star Line’s famous Big Four—the favorite mammoth steamers ADRIATICBALTICCEDRIC and CELTIC—can boast of hosts of such passengers who choose these vessels for journey after journey, knowing that upon them—in any class—will be found precisely the satisfactory service and the perfection of courtesy they have so thoroughly enjoyed before.

They are of robust and sturdy build, with graceful, stately lines, and if there is one comment about them heard more often than another, it is that these vessels are ‘so very steady.'”

Chelsea Piers, White Star Line, Olympic
Chelsea Piers served as a passenger ship terminal in the early 1900s for several passenger lines, including the White Star Line. In this 1911 photo, the RMS Olympic is arriving in New York. Today the piers are used by the Chelsea Piers Sports & Entertainment Complex.

Incidentally, on April 15, 1912, while in seclusion in the doctor’s cabin on Carpathia, Bruce Ismay reportedly sent a wireless message to the White Star Line’s New York office, requesting the RMS Cedric be held until Carpathia’s arrival. That way, the Cedric could transport Titanic’s surviving officers and crew back to England.

However, Cedric departed from Pier 59 at noon on April 18, almost ten hours before Carpathia docked with the survivors.

McSorley's Cats. John French Sloan. 1929
Cats of McSorley's Old Ale House
McSorley’s Cats. John French Sloan. 1929

Last night, I came across an old photo of McSorley’s during a snowstorm. I also found a poem about McSorley’s written by e.e.cummings during a snowstorm in 1923.

Although the story of McSorley’s cats has been told many times in different iterations, I thought a snowy night in December 2020 might be the perfect time to share the story of the legendary cats of McSorley’s Old Ale House. As I write this, I can see, hanging in my office, a framed illustration of McSorley and his cats from an original Harper’s Weekly Magazine.

“My Father Wanted Me to Keep Cats”

In 1919, Bill McSorley, the second owner of the renowned McSorley’s Old Ale House at 15 East Seventh Street near Third Avenue, told a reporter from the New York Evening Telegram that cats had been a fixture at McSorley’s ever since his father, John McSorley, founded the tavern in 1854.

“My father wanted me to keep cats,” he told the reporter. “It has been his motto that ‘it costs less to feed a cat than it does to pay a plumber.’ Cats keep away rats, who gnaw through lead pipes.”

It’s been said that Bill McSorley was gruff with his customers, but he displayed plenty of kindness toward his cats. He owned as many as 18 feline barflies at once, and they reportedly had the run of the saloon (although they always took their catnaps in the back room).

I’m not sure how motivated the cats were when it came to catching rats, as Bill reportedly fed them bull livers that he ran through a sausage grinder every day. As Joseph Mitchell wrote in The New Yorker in 1940, “When it came time to feed them, he would leave the bar, no matter how brisk business was, and bang on the bottom of a tin pan; the fat cats would come loping up, like leopards, from all corners of the saloon.”

McSorley's Cats. Harper's Weekly Magazine, 1913. John French Sloan
McSorley’s Cats. Harper’s Weekly Magazine, 1913. John French Sloan

In 1913, realist painter John French Sloan memorialized McSorley’s cats in a double-spread illustration he created for Harper’s Weekly Magazine (the one above, which I have hanging in my office). Fifteen years later, he captured a very similar scene in oil on canvas with his painting “McSorley’s Cats” (pictured at the beginning of this story).

One of a series of five McSorley’s paintings that Sloan created between 1912 and 1930, “McSorley’s Cats” depicts militant anarchist Hippolyte Havel, cartoonist Art Young, artist Alexander Kruse, and several other men smoking, laughing, and drinking ale at the bar. To their right, McSorley is opening an icebox as five cats huddle around him, waiting to be fed.

In “McSorley’s: John Sloan’s Visual Commentary on Male Bonding, Prohibition, and the Working Class,” Mariea Caudill Dennison writes, “The hardy camaraderie has been momentarily interrupted by Bill McSorley’s call to his cats. Although the date of the painting is secure, the image seems to suggest a re-occurring event.”

Up until a city law was passed banning all cats from bars and restaurants (the same law that forced the Algonquin Hotel to keep its resident cat, Matilda, out of the kitchen and bar area), one could always find at least one cat at McSorley’s.

Although it was their job to keep the mice and rats away, McSorley’s cats were more likely to spend their day curled up next to the bar patrons or warming themselves near the pot-bellied stove. In fact, when writer Joseph Mitchell was visiting the tavern in 1940, he noted that “a sluggish cat named Minne was sleeping beside the pot-belly stove.”

McSorley's cat, Minnie the Second.
Minnie the Second

Incidentally, the most recent feline barkeep at McSorley’s was a grey tabby named Minnie the Second. In April 2011, the Department of Health barred the cat from the bar during business hours. Five years later, the same health department temporarily shut down McSorley’s for violations including…wait for it…evidence of rat activity.

Gee, maybe if they had allowed Minnie to stay on post like another Minnie the mouser of Old New York was allowed to do in the 1920s-30s, the bar would not have had a problem with vermin. It’s what they call progress, I guess.

A Brief History of McSorley’s Old Ale House

Much has been written about Terrence John McSorley, Bill McSorley, and McSorley’s Old Ale House–the “Oldest Irish tavern in New York” even has its own historian–so I’m going to focus more on the history of the land on which the tavern was reportedly constructed in 1854.

Mcsorley's Old Ale House
I was sitting in mcsorley’s. outside it was New York and
beautifully snowing. From e.e. cummings, I Was Sitting in McSorley’s. 1923

Terrence John McSorley was born in Omagh, County Tyrone, Ireland, in 1827. He arrived in New York in 1851 on the ship The Colonist from Liverpool.

In 1854, McSorley reportedly opened a tavern he called The Old House at Home on property purchased that year by real estate developer John Wroughton Mitchell. One year later, John McSorley married Honora Henley.

Although tax records and maps note the lot at 15 East 7th Street as vacant until about 1860-61, it is surmised that Mitchell may have erected a small frame structure on the lot that was not recorded. McSorley may have leased space in this undocumented structure for his tavern until a brick building was constructed around 1861.

In 1864-65, the building at 15 East 7th Street was improved (either altered or demolished and replaced) to become a 5 story tenement. McSorley, his wife, and sons Peter and William (Bill) moved into the rooms upstairs over the bar. In 1888, McSorley purchased the building from Mitchell’s estate for $24,000.

1852 map, East 7th Street, New York
This map from 1852 shows a vacant lot next to a mahogany (lumber) yard at the future 15 East 7th Street. The old frame Tompkins Market, built in 1830, is across the street (depicted in yellow). New York Public Library Digital Collections
1857-1861 New York Map, East 7th Street
This 1857-1861 map shows what was reportedly a two-story brick structure at 15 East 7th Street. The new cast-iron Tompkins Market and Armory building (pink), constructed in 1860, is also shown NYPL Digital Collections
Tompkins Market
The Tompkins Market, just across from McSorley’s Old Ale House (now the site of 41 Cooper Square), may have been a favorite place for McSorley’s cats to visit when they weren’t on bar duty. At the public market on the first floor, one could find the freshest meats, fish, milk, butter, vegetables, and other products. The armory and drill rooms of the Seventh Regiment of the New York State National Guard were located on the second and third floors.

The Bowery Farm

Whether McSorley opened his tavern in 1854 or later–a topic historians will no doubt discuss for as long as the bar remains standing–the site of his legendary tavern has its own interesting history. In fact, McSorley’s sits on what was probably the most famous property in Dutch-colonial Manhattan.

The land between present-day 5th to 17th Streets (give or take a street), from Fourth Avenue to the East River, was once the Dutch West India Company’s Bouwery #1, aka, the Great Bouwery, and part of Bouwery #2. These were two of 12 large farms, or bouweries, extending north of the city of New Amsterdam that were established by the West India Company. The road that connected these properties to the city was called Bowery Lane. 

This old map shows some of the bouweries of Dutch-era New Amsterdam. Bouwery #1 and Bouwery #2 were farther north.
This old map from 1644 shows some of the bouweries of Dutch-era New Amsterdam. Bouwery #1 and Bouwery #2 were a bit farther north.

Following the arrival of the first settlers in 1624, the Board of the Dutch West India Company sent instructions for laying out the outpost. Included were directions to erect a fort, lay out streets, and build 12 bouweries for farming and grazing — five would be leased to colonists for six years at a time and seven were provided to the company directors.

The farms were laid out north of where the large wall (Wall Street) would later be erected in 1653. Six farms were placed on the west side of an old Native American footpath (Bowery Lane) and six were placed on the east side.

Map of New York, Stuyvesant Bouwerie

The bouweries ranged in size from about 50 to 200 acres. According to a directive from the board, the largest of the bouweries—80 rods by 450 rods—was to be reserved for the use of the current director of the colony. Thus, over the years, Bouwerie #1 was the home of Willem Verhulst, Peter Minuit, Wouter Van Twiller, Willem Kieft, and Petrus Stuyvesant. 

The home of Peter Stuyvesant, which was destroyed in a fire in 1777.
The home of Peter Stuyvesant, which was destroyed in a fire in 1777.

On March 12, 1651, Stuyvesant purchased all of Bouwerie #1 and part of Bouwerie #2 from the West India Company. When the British took over in 1664, he was allowed to keep his land by agreeing to surrender. Stuyvesant spent the rest of his life on a 62-acre tract of the farm; his house stood near present-day First Avenue and 16th Street.

Petrus "Peter" Stuyvesant (1727-1805)
Petrus “Peter” Stuyvesant (1727-1805)

In the late 18th century, Peter Stuyvesant’s great-grandson, Petrus, began subdividing part of this land into building lots. He laid out the streets on his land and created Stuyvesant Street in 1787 by widening the road between the old Bouweries #1 and #2.

When Petrus died in 1805, one son, Peter Gerard Stuyvesant, inherited Petersfield, the farm north of Stuyvesant Street. Another son, Nicholas William, received the “Bowery farm” to the south of Stuyvesant Street.

Nicholas and his wife, Catherine Livingston Reade, had nine children: Peter, Nicholas William, Jr., John Reade, Gerard, Robert Reade, Joseph Reade, Catharine Ann, Helen, and Margaret Livingston Stuyvesant. The family lived in the family’s Georgian mansion on a hill overlooking the East River, near today’s 8th Street, between First and Second Avenues.

Nicholas William Stuyvesant home, 1765
The Stuyvesant hone was constructed in 1765 for Petrus Stuyvesant and Margaret Livingston.

Nicholas William Stuyvesant died in the home on March 1, 1833. Following Catherine’s death in 1863, the family sold the estate and the home was demolished. Around 1835 the knoll upon which it stood was leveled.

It was on a tiny piece of this land that McSorley’s Old Ale House was built in 1854…or so.

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Free Holiday Zoom Event: Animal Stories That Made the Holiday Headlines in Jolly Old New York

Monday, December 21, 2020
7-8 p.m. (ET)

Load of Xmas Trees, New York
Holiday Zoom Event
Horse-delivered Christmas trees, New York. Library of Congress Collections

Take a virtual sleigh ride back in time as I take you over the river and through the woods to Christmas past in jolly Old New York. Explore some of the city’s timeless holiday traditions via fun and amazing animal stories that made the headlines in the late 1800s and early 1900s. Hear about:

* The penguins and sea lions that frolicked in the Prometheus Fountain
* The Christmas kittens born in the Dewey Arch on Fifth Avenue
* The Bronx Zoo reindeer delivered by crane to Rockefeller Center
* The animal balloons that crashed into planes at the Macy’s Parade
* The holiday rush on Angora cats at Wanamaker’s Dry Goods Store
* The annual yuletide event “to celebrate all good dogs, cats, and horses”
* The horses that delivered America’s first public Christmas tree
* And a holiday kitten shipped to Yorkville by parcel-post-delivery

Reindeer delivered by crane at Rockefeller Center
Holiday Zoom Event
Reindeer delivered by crane at Rockefeller Center

Hosted by the Greater Astoria Historical Society. This holiday Zoom Event will be jolly good fun for animal lovers and history fans alike!

To Register:

This event is hosted by the Greater Astoria Historical Society. To register, send an email to astorialic@gmail.com with the Subject Line: ANIMALS. You will receive a link to the Zoom event prior to the presentation.

I am available for virtual author events across the United States and in-person presentations in the New York City metropolitan region (including northern New Jersey and the Hudson Valley). Click here for more information.