Cats in the Mews: February 19, 1893
The New York Evening World, February 20, 1893
Cat stuck in tree
The New York Evening World, February 20, 1893

On this day in 1893, a little five-year-old boy named Willie Morton did what many grown men and tender-hearted women had failed to do: He rescued a cat that had been stuck high in a maple tree at the corner of Court Street and First Place in the Carroll Gardens section of Brooklyn.

According to the New York Evening World, the poor cat had been stuck in the tree for five days, after escaping from a fierce bulldog. Despite the efforts of many grown men and the coaxing voices of many women, the cat refused to budge from his perch.

Perhaps the cat was stuck at the top of this tree, in front of the John S. Hyde mansion on First Place near Court Street.

On Friday, some mean children and their parents just laughed at the cat as they passed by. But after a snowstorm that evening, these same people began crying, “Poor thing!”

One known high-society member of Mrs. Caroline Astor’s Four Hundred who lived on First Place even shed tears for the kitty in distress. (Perhaps this man was Charles Carroll, a descendant of Charles Carroll of Maryland, a signer of the Declaration of Independence for whom Carroll Gardens is named.)

Recalling a dog that had been rescued from the frozen reservoir in Central Park a few weeks earlier, the residents agreed to try various methods to help the cat return to the ground. (The methods suggested to rescue the dog, who had been stuck on the ice for more than a week, included tying meat to a long rope, using shotguns to frighten him and make him jump over the railing, and lassoing him with rope lariats.)

New York World, February 2, 1983. A little black dog who had fallen over the railing onto the  the frozen reservoir in Central Park made the headlines every day until his rescue about a week later. Many different methods were proposed, but in the end, a few men broke the law and jumped onto the ice to rescue the cold and starving dog.
New York World, February 2, 1893. A little black dog who had fallen over the railing onto the frozen reservoir in Central Park made the headlines every day until his rescue about a week later. Many different methods were proposed, but in the end, a few men broke the law and jumped onto the ice to rescue the cold and starving dog.

On Saturday, women and children and a few grown men attempted to lure the cat down, but the kitty continued to grow colder while holding her stance. Not until Sunday, when, as the reporter pointed out, everyone should have been at church services, “did the entire masculine population in the vicinity turn out as a rescuing party.”

One of the would-be heroes, Mr. McKee, a Wall Street broker, brought a tiny “George Washington” hatchet he apparently had since childhood and suggested chopping down the tree. Not only did the property owner object, but nobody believed the man had enough strength and woodsmen skills to topple the urban tree.

Perhaps this is the tree where the cat rescue took place, on the northwest corner of Court Street and 1st Place (the buildings are still standing, but there is no longer a tree in the fenced-in court yard).

Next, a lawyer stepped up and proposed using chloroform to put the cat to sleep so they could catch the unconscious cat as she fell to earth. The man spliced together several fishing poles. Then, fastening a slab of meat that had been saturated with the sleep inducer to the end, he raised the poles up toward the heavens until it was just a few inches from the kitty’s nose.

As the reporter noted, “Tabby persistently refused to either eat or smell, and the disciple of [Sir William] Blackstone was compelled to admit that the cat was wider awake than he was.” (I love the reporter’s sarcasm.)

Finally, little Willie came to the rescue. Placing his caged pet mouse at the foot of the tree, he instructed everyone to step back so the cat could see the tiny prey. Unfortunately, the cat did nothing more than let out a plaintive meow. As darkness fell and the winds sent 40-mile gales through the tabby’s whiskers, the rescuers returned to their homes with heavy hearts.

Now, Willie was not a quitter. All night long he dreamed of the cat and thought of ways to save it. The next morning, he enlisted his own cat in the rescue. He carried his cat to the base of the tree and began playing with it in the snow.

Cat at the base of a tree
The cat calmly walked down the trunk of the tree to join Willie and his pet cat at play.

Still hanging to a topmost branch, the trapped cat watched in interest for several minutes. Then, more calmly than I imagine she climbed up the tree, the cat made her way down the trunk and joined in the play with Willie and his cat.

Willie took the cold and hungry cat to his home, where he and his parents, George and Mary Morton, cared for her while waiting for someone to claim the kitty as their own. (Perhaps the owner was none other than Dr. William H. Hale of nearby 40 First Place, who was found guilty of having too many cats in the early 1900s.)

Cats in the Mews: February 17, 1902
New York Sun, February 18, 1902
Cat Family in Church Organ
New York Sun, February 18, 1902

A seemingly uncanny mystery of the church organ, which had puzzled the organist and boys’ choir of the Protestant Episcopal Church of the Transfiguration for more than a week, was solved on this day in 1902.

The mystery began during Sunday morning services on February 9. According to news reports, the singing of the processional had just ended, when a mournful wail came from inside the organ. The church then went completely silent, as members of the boys’ choir, startled by the sudden noise, looked about in wonder.

As the World News reported, “Then, in the hush which had fallen upon choir and congregation, the wail was repeated, its sorrowfulness deepened, its notes more weird: Me-ow-wow-wow-me-ow-e-e!” Clearly it rang through the silent church, then, dying away, ended in what sounded like a low sob. The organist, sitting motionless on his stool, contemplated with amazement the keys.”

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Cats in the Mews: February 13, 1889

The presence of a cat at the studio had, by tradition, become considered a necessity to the students and was thought to be productive of good luck in their artistic work.–The New York Times, February 13, 1889

New York Times, February 13, 1889
Art Students League Search for Cat
New York Times

In February 1889, it was not uncommon to see a group of young ladies walking up and down East 23rd Street and all through the Flatiron District — even on the coldest of winter days. The women, who attended classes at the Art Student League of New York, were on a mission. They had to find a good-luck mascot cat that would not disappear from the League’s building on East 23rd Street.

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Cats in the Mews: February 9, 1897
Cat holds up trolley traffic, New York Sun, Feb 10, 1897
New York Sun, February 10, 1897

On this day in 1897, a black cat held up traffic on the trolley roads running through Fulton Street for about 15 minutes.

According to the New York Sun, somehow the cat had managed to get onto a flat wooden guard box that ran under the BMT’s Fulton Street elevated railroad tracks just above the trolley wires. The trapped feline attracted attention with his terrific yowls of terror every time a trolley car passed under him.

People who heard the cat’s cries for help protested against what appeared to ongoing torture for the cat.

This 1900 photograph of Fulton Street at the intersection of Joralemon Street and Boreum Place shows a trolley car rolling underneath the Fulton Street elevated train tracks. The cat in this story became trapped between the elevated tracks and the wires connecting to the trolley cars. New York Public Library Digital Collections
This 1900 photograph of Fulton Street at the intersection of Joralemon Street and Boreum Place shows a trolley car rolling underneath the Fulton Street elevated train tracks. The cat in this story became trapped between the elevated tracks and the wires connecting to the trolley cars. New York Public Library Digital Collections

Finally, the crowd was able to get a trolley to stop just under the place from where the howls were coming from. The motorman climbed to the top of the car and attempted to reach the cat by pawing around over the top of the guard box. By this time, a long line of trolley cars had become blocked, and a repair wagon was summoned by telephone.

When the repair man arrived, he put up a ladder and seized the cat “amid much excitement on the part of the cat” and cheering from the assembled multitude. As the Sun reported: “Just as the cantankerous and ungrateful beast in his arms stepped into the body of the repair wagon from the ladder, the cat scratched its way loose and made a mad break for home and freedom.”

Nobody knows where the cat went. The crowd dispersed, and the trolley cars started on in clanging procession.

Just another day in the life of a 19th-century Brooklyn cat.

Cats in the Mews: February 8, 1889
New York Times, February 9, 1889
Pet Cats Save residents, gas leak
New York Times, February 9, 1889

I recently wrote about a cat that saved 150 lives in a building in Harlem in 1897. In this tale of Old New York, which took place when a gas leak endangered the lives of every resident in a four-story brick tenement building on East 75th Street, we meet two feline heroes and their canine sidekick. For those interested in history, this story also includes a brief history of Con Edison and New York City’s other gas companies.

The New York Sun, February 9, 1889
Cats save people, gas leak
The New York Sun, February 9, 1889

The building at 241 East 75th Street was owned by William Sartorius, who occupied the entire ground floor with his wife and two sons. Thirty-three other people lived in the building, each family occupying about 800 square feet of space. I’m sharing the following details to provide insight into tenement life, and also because many of my readers have discovered their ancestors in my stories.

*William May, a locksmith, leased three front rooms in the basement. He used one room for his workshop and lived in the other two rooms with his wife, their 17-year-old daughter, Mary, and two teenage sons. The family also had a black foxhound and two cats who slept in the sub-cellar.

*Frederick Souter, the janitor, occupied the three rear rooms in the basement with his wife and four children.

*The large families of John Weisner and Henry Heidler (2 parents and five children each) lived in the two 3-room apartments on the second floor.

*James Rogan, a 28-year-old tinsmith, lived in the rear rooms on the top floor with his wife, Mary, her sister, Alice, and three young children. Ernst Swingman and his wife occupied the front rooms. The third floor was vacant.


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