Tabby was just a typical landlubber cat who worked as a mouser in Eltingville, Staten Island, when she embarked on an amazing journey more fit for a seafarer cat like Olaf the Viking cat. Although she lived through three storms while at sea, she never lost even one of her nine lives during her nine days on the water in the Sandy Hook Bay and North Atlantic Ocean.

Tabby lived near what is now Crescent Beach in the village of Eltingville, located on the southern shores of Staten Island. One day in March 1884, the cat made the mistake of following the three children she lived with to the beach. They tossed her into a small rowboat and pushed the boat from the shore.

The rotten little kids told the reporter they were only trying to have some fun, and to see what would happen when the cat became frightened.

Within minutes, a strong wind and the tide began carrying the boat out of sight. It headed toward Sandy Hook in New Jersey. Tabby could only sit back and try to survive the adventure.

Ten days later, a small fishing boat anchored off Eltingville, with the small rowboat in tow. A lone sailor emerged from the boat, carrying Tabby in his arms. The sailor told the press he had found the boat drifting about 70 miles southeast of Sandy Hook.

Apparently, Tabby survived by eating a few flounders that had been left behind on the boat before she left on her journey. The three late-winter storms filled a bailing pan with rainwater, so Tabby had plenty of fresh water to drink.

March 3, 1884

According to the mariner, Tabby was sitting in the bow of the boat when he rescued her. She immediately jumped into his boat, seemingly pleased to have been rescued. Fortunately, the rowboat owner’s name was painted on the boat, allowing the sailor to return the boat to Eltingville.

Hopefully the cat found a new home with better-behaved children when she returned.

Incidentally, at about the same time this story of Tabby appeared in the news, another story was published about a reported sea serpent sighting off the shores of Eltingville. According to the story, the village constable, Elbert L. Poillon, was standing on the the beach with John Fisher and his son when they saw what appeared to be a large log drifting toward them.

The three men got into a boat and approached the moving object. One of the men dipped his oar into the water, causing the sea monster to whip its head around and crush it in half. The men told a reporter they thought the creature was about 25 feet long.

Neighbors accused the constable and Fisher of making up the big fish tale, but the men appeared before the justice of the peace to swear to their testimony.

The next big Eltingville story to make the news was in January 1908, when Miss Helen Wilcox, wearing only a bathing suit, took a two-minute swim in the 30-degree ocean waters on a bet.

A Brief History of Eltingville, Staten Island

Once known as South Side (the name of its post office up to 1873) and then as Sea Side, Eltingville is named for the Elting family of the Province of Drenthe (Netherlands). The first newspaper reference to the village of Eltingville was in 1882; in fact, one of the very first stories to mention the town was this story about Tabby. Several newspapers across the country–and even England–picked up the story in 1884.

The Elting family reportedly settled in New Paltz, New York, in the early 1700s. Following the Revolutionary War, many New Paltz residents, including the Hasbroucks and Eltings, emigrated north to Albany, south to Orange County, or to the County of Richmond (Staten Island).

The beach at ELtingville, Staten Island
The beach at Eltingville, Staten Island

Considering the town was named for this family, there is surprisingly very little information published about the Eltings, although their name does show up on old maps and old property records. Elting is a common name that appears in Ulster County records, and Richmond County indices from the nineteenth century also show numerous properties bought and sold by Elting and Kolff Development Company (Cornelius C. Kolff).

In New Paltz, the Elting (aka Eltinge) family goes back to Roelif Eltinge, a Huguenot who was one of the first patentees of New Paltz, Ulster County.

The Jesse M. Elting house in New Paltz in the late 1800s.
The Jesse M. Elting house in New Paltz in the late 1800s.

Another family member in Ulster County was Noah Elting, who received a patent from King George II in 1747. Noah operated a ferry boat landing in the hamlet of Highland on the Hudson River. In the 1790s and early 1800s, the ferry was the only way for people to get to Poughkeepsie from the hamlet.

Old Staten Island maps show that the N. Elting estate was on Amboy Road on the north and south side of the Staten Island Rail Road, near present-day Richmond Avenue (Seaside Avenue on the map below). I’m not sure, however, if the N stands for Noah or if this Elting was even directly related to Noah Elting of New Paltz.

1874 Beers map. NYPL Digital Collections

In later years, the property was owned by Cornelius W.H. Elting (between present-day Bamberger Lane and Waimer Place). Cornelius was born in Ulster County in 1843, the son of Cornelius H. and Catherine Elting. According to census reports, he and his family were living in Westfield, Staten Island, by 1855.

Cornelius W.H. Elting was a contractor and an office builder involved in Staten Island real estate development. His residence of record was at 2098 Fifth Avenue in Harlem, where he served as president of the Harlem Board of Commerce.

Eltingville map 1907
The Elting property is in the center of the map, on the north and south sides of the railroad tracks. Washington Avenue is now Arden Avenue. 1907 Robinson map. NYPL Digital Collections

Cornelius was married to Rachel Ann Van Buren, who died in 1907, just four years after her husband’s death. According to an article in the New Paltz Independent about Mrs. Elting’s passing, it was Cornelius’ ancestors who in fact founded Eltingville. Mrs. Elting bequeathed a large portion of her estate, which included property in Eltingville, to the YMCA of the State of New York.

Cornelius and Rachel Elting are buried in Woodlawn Cemetery, Bronx.

Eltingville Train Station
The Staten Island Railroad from Vanderbilt Landing opened in 1860; at that time, the last stop was Eltingville. Advertisements for the service said trains ran three times per day (twice on Sundays), to meet with the ferry from Manhattan. NYPL Digital Collections

In addition to the Staten Island Railroad, which opened in 1860, wooden plank roads added in 1850 also made Eltingville more accessible for summer residents and vacationers. The beach at Eltingville became known for excellent boating, fishing, and bathing.

Evening World, October 1915

The village began steadily developing in 1915, when Wood, Harmon & Co. began selling $1000 acre lots on 150 acres of land called Eltingville Acres near the train station. The company placed large ads in newspapers promoting the opportunity for those who aspired to be small farmers to own an acre of pristine land in the city.

The developers boasted the large peach orchard on the northeast portion, a twenty-acre wooded grove of oak, beech, and maple trees, a great plain of fine soil, a beautiful brook meandering through the land, and of course the beach only one mile away.

Fun fact: In 1917, the largest underwater telephone cable in the world was completed across the Raritan Bay, from Eltingville to Keansburg, NJ, a distance of 5.5 miles.

An aerial view of Eltingville in 1968, showing the intersection of Amboy Road and Richmond Avenue. Staten Island Historical Society
An aerial view of Eltingville in 1968, showing the intersection of Amboy Road and Richmond Avenue. Note the train station at left; the Elting property would have been where the vacant land is shown at the bottom of this photo. Staten Island Historical Society


One of my favorite cat stories of Old New York is the amazing tale of Gittel, who lived in Manhattan’s Lower East Side with Louis Leichtman and his family at 163 East 4th Street. As soon as I came across this new story that took place in the West Farms section of the Bronx in 1944, I immediately thought of Gittel.

In 1908, Gittel was on the rooftop when she fell into an unfinished chimney that ran down to the basement. After trying many tricks to lure Gittel from the chimney, Louis resorted to lowering his own son Aaron down the chimney. Aaron got stuck halfway down the shaft, and some friends and neighbors had to help Louis pull him out.

I go into great detail about this attempted rescue in my book, The Cat Men of Gotham, complete with a dialog between father and son that always makes me laugh, even though what Louis did to his son would of course be considered child abuse today. I never thought anyone else would ever try something so absurd and dangerous.

I was wrong.

1973 Bryant Avenue in West Farms, 1940. NYC Municipal Archives
Rose Colgan lived on the first floor of 1973 Bryant Avenue in West Farms, just north of East Tremont Avenue, pictured here in 1940. NYC Municipal Archives

In April 1944, an unnamed cat fell down the chimney of a six-story apartment building at 1973 Bryant Avenue in West Farms. For four days and nights, Rose Colgan, who lived on the first floor, listened to the poor cat cry behind a wall in her department. It took four days, but she finally decided to take action.

Colgan notified William Setzer, the superintendent of the building, and demanded he do something to rescue the cat (or at least put an end to its meowing). William called on his nephew, 10-year-old Charles Setzer, to help him out.

According to the New York Times, William tied a rope around Charles and lowered him down. The young boy got about 10 feet down when “his cries drowned out those of the cat.” He was stuck, too. It took William about a half hour to free the frightened child from the chimney.

Just as SPCA Superintendent Thomas Freel did to rescue Gittel in 1908, the ASPCA agent who responded to William’s urgent call for help broke through the wall to rescue the cat. Using milk, meat, and catnap, he coaxed the kitty out and into Rose Colgan’s apartment.

The cat was taken to the Bronx ASPCA headquarters. I have a feeling Child Protective Services was not summoned to reprimand William for putting his nephew in danger.

A Brief History of Bryant Avenue, West Farms

What is now Bryant Avenue in West Farms was once part of the early 18th-century Theophilus Hunt farm (aka West Farms Lot 4) in what was then called Westchester (or West Chester) County. The Hunt family history in Westchester goes back to the mid-1600s, but it was Theophilus Hunt who once owned the specific land where this story of the chimney cat took place four hundred years later.

Bryant Avenue at about East 174th Street, West Farms, in 1917. NYPL
Bryant Avenue at about East 174th Street in 1917. Note the vacant lots and mature trees. NYPL Digital Collections

Hunt’s farmhouse stood near present-day East 174th Street and an old trail called Hunts Point Road (today’s West Farms Road), where the East 174th Bridge crosses the Bronx River. Hunt, who was born in Westchester sometime between 1723 and 1725, died in West Farms in 1797.

Just a few blocks north of the Hunt homestead was the home of John Embree, who resided with his father, Samuel, in a home near present-day East Tremont and Bryant Avenues from about 1718 to his death in 1785. The Embree home was situated behind twin elm trees, once described as two of the most magnificent elms in all of Westchester County.

By 1940, this property would be the site of the six-story apartment building at 1973 Bryant Avenue, where Rose Colgan lived.

Following John Embree’s death, the property was purchased by a Westchester doctor named Joseph Browne. Dr. Browne tore down the Embree farmhouse and replaced it with a two-story frame dwelling with wide verandas overlooking the Bronx River Valley. (In 1798, Dr. Browne suggested diverting the main stream of the Bronx River to New York to supply the city with fresh clean water; his proposal was rejected.)

Dr. Browne and his family lived in this home–which was a summer country home–until 1812, which is when Thomas Walker moved in.

The Walker homestead and property is noted on this old map of West Farms.
The Walker homestead and property is noted on this old map of West Farms. Today the site of this old house is the southwest corner of Bryant and East Tremont Avenues, where the apartment at 1973 Bryant Avenue was located in the 1940s. Note the illustration and notation of “Old Elms” in front of the Walker home as well as the brook running along what is today East 178th Street. NYPL Digital Collections

Thomas Walker was a wealthy Quaker merchant and manufacturer. He took over the old farm, which stretched westward along the north side of Tremont Avenue (then called Locust Street) from today’s West Farms Square to Prospect Avenue.

Walker had two mills on the property just north of the house, which were powered by a water-wheel at present-day 178th Street and Bryant Avenue. The wheel was fed from a mill pond called “The Dyke,” which was west of his farm near present-day Southern Boulevard.

Thomas Walker also owned a tract of land along both the east and west sides of West Farms Road between about East 174th and 176th Streets. He subdivided this land into lots to form “Boat Town”: his idea was that seamen could purchase lots on both sides of the road. Those on the west side would have homes and gardens, while the eastern lots would provide wharf access to the river.

These lots were laid out from 1833 to 1836, and development began soon after this period.

Looking north up the Bronx River in West Farms in 1900. Museum of the City of New York Collections
Looking north up the Bronx River in West Farms in 1900. Museum of the City of New York Collections

Sometime around 1850, the old homestead was purchased by Mr. Frederick Larner, who opened a hotel called the Adriatic Hotel. The hotel featured fine gardens and grounds, and local organizations often rented the property for outdoor events.

Frederick Larner was killed instantly in September 1872; he was reportedly thrown from his carriage after his horse became spooked by a cow.

1868 map of West Farms
The Adriatic Hotel, the former home of Thomas Walker, is noted on this 1868 map. At this time, East Tremont Road was called Locust Avenue and Bryant Avenue was called Walker Street. NYPL Digital Collections
he Samuel Purdy house, noted on the map above, was located on Bryant Avenue between East 179th and East 180th Streets in West Farms.
The Samuel Purdy house, noted on the map above, was located on Bryant Avenue between East 179th and East 180th Streets. It was demolished between 1911 and 1924. NYPL Digital Collections

The Adriatic Hotel was torn down in 1892. The barns on the property had been taken down many years prior to this, leaving a vacant lot for many years until about 1930, when a cluster of six-story brick apartment buildings surrounding a central courtyard were constructed on the lot.

The apartment building at 1973 Bryant Avenue is noted on this 1938 map. NYPL Digital Collections

In the early 1970s, the apartments where this cat rescue took place were demolished to make way for West Farms Square, an affordable housing development which consists of eight buildings and 526 units. They do not appear to have any chimneys.

West Farms Square in 2023.
West Farms Square in 2023.
Photo by Harry Whittier Frees (this is not Minnie)

The Algonquin Hotel may have had Billy and Rusty the cats, and the Hotel Lincoln may have had Abe the cat, but these male cats could not be mothers. Minnie was not only the mascot of the Hotel St. George, but she was a mother to 160 kittens.

Minnie moved into the Hotel St. George in 1921 with her first owner. Over the year, the beautiful tiger cat lived with four different owners, but she never left the hotel.

That is, she never left the hotel until it was time for her quarterly date with Tom cat.

Here is how a reporter for the Brooklyn Daily Eagle summarized her life story:

Minnie, it seems, was once a young tiger kitten with nothing to distinguish her except a sort of fatal beauty. There were many feline blades on the Heights who aspired to her paw, but she would have nothing to do with them. She was a home-loving kitten and didn’t seem to care for male company. That’s what she said and thought. But one day Tom Cat came along and–well, she married him.”

Every four months, Minnie would have four kittens. When you do the math, that’s 160 kittens in 10 years!

Although Minnie chose to stay at the Hotel St. George, all her kittens went to good homes in the Brooklyn Heights neighborhood. Many of them had clever names related to the hotel, such as Dinner Dance, Parlor, and Salon. The various owners of Minnie’s kittens kept a running record of her births: every time she had another litter, they would add a checkmark in their journals.

Hotel St. George, Brooklyn
Only 30 rooms when it was first built in 1885, the Hotel St. George eventually amounted to eight interconnected buildings that occupied the full city block bounded by Clark, Henry, Pineapple and Hicks streets. The St. George boasted a huge 11,000 square-foot ballroom and a 120-foot natural salt water indoor swimming pool.

Sometime in 1940, Mrs. Edward D. Mudge (Ann) approached Martin Samuels, manager of the Hotel St. George, which was just five blocks from her home. “Let’s have a cat show,” she told him. “And let’s ask not only champions but the grocer’s cat and the police station mouser and poor children’s pets.”

Mr. Samuels, a reported pet lover, agreed to her suggestion. “Fine,” he said. “The hotel is yours.”

I have a feeling some of Minnie’s offspring participated in the inaugural Brooklyn Heights Neighborhood Pet Cat Show. In fact, today, there are no doubt numerous great-great-grand kittens related to Minnie in Brooklyn Heights and probably across the country.

A Brief History of the Hotel St. George

The Hotel St. George was the brainchild of William Tumbridge, an English, South-African born sailor who served with the US Navy and worked at the Brooklyn Navy Yard. Following a short maritime career, William took a job at an advertising firm on Wall Street, only to return to the sea later in life, many years after his marriage to Lucinda Finck, with whom he had four children.

In 1885, William bought a plot of land on Pineapple Street, between Hicks and Henry Streets. This block had once been the site of a roadside inn called the St. George’s Tavern, which operated during the Revolutionary era from 1774 to 1783. The celebrated tavern on what was then called Tower Hill was opened by John Cornell in May 1774, and was a favorite rendezvous for Revolutionary War solders.

1880 Bromley map Brooklyn
William bought a plot of land on Pineapple Street, between Hicks and Henry Streets, then occupied by mostly old frame buildings. 1880 Bromley map, NYPL Digital Collections.

This land had been part of the Middagh (Midder) Farm, bounded by Fulton, Hicks, and Pierrepont Streets. (Back then, Fulton Street, aka the Old Ferry Road, was a cow path leading to and from the ferry.)

The farm dates back to about 1657, when Aert (aka Anthonze or Teunsen) Middagh, a hatter from Utrecht in the Netherlands, came to the new settlement. He and his wife, Brekje Hansen Bergen, married around 1861 and joined the Reformed Dutch Church in 1664.

During the Revolution, the lands in this area were used as a burial ground for British soldiers and sailors; the graves were leveled off at the end of the war when the Hicks family first established their home.

Alas, the Middaghs were staunch Royalists. Although they were able to retain their farm lands after the war, their other value property in Brooklyn was confiscated.

In the 18th century, John Middagh, also a hatter, built what was called “John Middagh’s big house,” which stood on the southeast corner of present-day Fulton and Henry Streets. The first Church of England services in Brooklyn took place in the Middagh barn behind the house until 1787.

Incidentally, it was John Middagh and his grocer son-in-laws, the Hicks brothers, who laid out and named such streets as Pineapple, Orange and Cranberry, reportedly to remind Brooklyn residents that these exotic fruits were available at their market.

John Middagh House
Brooklyn Daily Eagle, 1930
In 1840, a merchant named T.W. Peck jacked up the old Middagh house and added three stores on the ground floor. D.S. Quimby conducted a stove and range business in the old barn (see left building) for about 30 years.

Throughout the 1800s, large landowners in Brooklyn Heights began dividing their property into plots and roads. A criminal code was passed in 1821 to deal with a pressing problem: sheep, bulls, pigs, and hogs running at will through the streets. Fines ranged from 25 cents for an at-large sheep to $5 for a bull.

Getting back to the Hotel St. George…

1887 Sanborn Map NYPL
The Hotel St. George, 1887 Sanborn map, NYPL Digital Collections

Captain William Tumbridge built his original 10-story Hotel St. George, which was the one of Brooklyn’s tallest buildings, facing Pineapple Street. Over the next 15 years, he continued to purchase more land and expand the hotel.

Eventually, the hotel comprised eight interconnected buildings and more than 1000 guest rooms. The St. George even had its own power plant, and was one of the first hotels to be lighted by electricity.

In addition to having rooms for transient guests, the Hotel St. George was also a residential hotel, where singles, couples, or even families could rent rooms or entire suites as their primary residence. Hence, Minnie the cat lived with many owners who called the hotel their home.

Captain William Tumbridge died in 1921, which is the same year that Minnie the cat moved in (hmmm). Seven years later, Emory Roth constructed the St. George Tower annex, making the St. George the largest hotel in the world.

Hotel St. George 1905
The Hotel St. George in 1905, about 15 years before Minnie the cat moved in.

With nine individual buildings occupying an entire city block, its amazing views, and salt-water pool, the hotel was the place to stay in Brooklyn during much of the mid-20th century.

By 1995, 8 of the buildings had been converted for residential use, and of those, 2 had been vacated and remained vacant for years. The 10-story Clark Building and 12-story Marquee Building became home to vagrants, who used the interconnecting cellar to move from building to building.

At about 3:30 a.m. on August 27, 1995, the Brooklyn central office received a call reporting smoke in the area around the St. George Hotel. 

Fire that originated in the Clark Building spread rapidly through holes in the floors and open elevator shafts, and the vandalized standpipes were useless. The firefighters left the building and began an exterior attack.

More than 700 firefighters and 100 companies ultimately responded to the 16-alarm fire. The Clark Building sustained the most damage and had to be demolished.

Layout of Hotel St. George complex
Hotel St. George complex.
Fire at Hotel St. George 
August 1995

Today, the historic hotel houses more than 1,400 students attending area colleges such as NYU, Pace, New York Law School, and The New York Conservatory for the Dramatic Arts. The 30-story St. George Tower is now a residential cooperative building. 

Hotel St. George, Brooklyn

 

Brooklyn Woman Suffrage Party mascot cat
Brooklyn Daily Eagle, October 19, 1915
Brooklyn Daily Eagle, October 19, 1915

There is a saying that goes, “Cats rule. Dogs drool.” When it came to picking a side during the women’s suffrage movement in Brooklyn, the cat in this story ruled. She picked the winning side–the Brooklyn Woman Suffrage Association.

Pussy Suff was a black cat with seven toes on each forepaw and “a nasty, catty disposition.” According to the Brooklyn Daily Eagle, she was a cat that believed in women’s suffrage. The news reporter put it this way:

“Merrow, merrow, meeeerrrrooowwww!” Translation–“Votes, votes, votes for woman!!!”

Perhaps the cat knew that the name of the woman who headed by Empire State Campaign Committee for the woman suffrage movement in New York State was Mrs. Carrie Chapman Catt (the successor to Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton, who founded the National Woman’s Suffrage Association in 1869). But more likely, she joined the association because she was a good neighbor.

Pussy Suff lived next door to the first headquarters of the Brooklyn Woman Suffrage Party at 27 Lafayette Avenue. She spent many hours at the headquarters and was on a “purring acquaintance” with many of the Brooklyn suffragists.

The Brooklyn Woman Suffrage Party had headquarters at 27 Lafayette Avenue, on the right. The building is no longer standing. NYC Archives, 1940 tax photo.
The Brooklyn Woman Suffrage Party had headquarters at 27 Lafayette Avenue, on the right. The building is no longer standing. NYC Archives, 1940 tax photo.

The cat had a fondness for the group’s yellow ribbons, and would often steal one of two and carry them off. The women decided to give her a ribbon to wear around her neck, which she did so with pride.

As a reporter noted, “She wears it around her neck all day and parades it along the back fences at night when she sends up her war cry of defiance to the anti forces.”

Brooklyn Woman Suffrage Association Ribbon; National Museum of American History
Brooklyn Woman Suffrage Association Ribbon; National Museum of American History

One of Pussy Suff’s best friends at the Brooklyn Woman Suffrage Party headquarters was Mrs. Charles Winslow, leader of the movement in the Third Assembly District. She never missed an opportunity to pet the cat, and the cat would sometimes allow her to pick her up, such as when a photographer snapped the picture above in 1915.

On the other side of the fence, so to speak, was the Brooklyn Auxiliary New York State Association Opposed to Woman Suffrage. As one newspaper noted, the Anti-Suffs, as they were called, were prone to adorning their dogs with anti-suffrage pennants and making their cats “look very indignant” by placing anti-suffrage ribbons around their necks.

One of their mascot dogs who never went out in public without his anti-suffrage pennant was Bob Williams, “a dog of fine family” who belonged to Miss M. Panette Williams. Miss Williams was an active worker in the fight against giving women the right to vote and took charge of the cake an candy sales that the women held outside their headquarters at 320 Livingston Street.

Like Pussy Suff, Bob Williams was proud of his neck adornment, and any attempt to remove it was met with growls (anyone dopey enough to be persistent in their efforts to remove the pennant were punished with a nip on the hand or leg “in a very business manner.”)

The Brooklyn Daily Eagle reporter summarized Bob William’s conversations: “Bowwow, bowwo, grrrrrr!!” Translation–“Opposed, opposed, no votes for women!””

The Brooklyn Woman Suffrage Party had its own car, called "The Suffrage Winner."
Pictured in The Suffrage Winner are driver Miss Helen J. Owen, Mrs. H. Edward Dreier, chairwoman; Miss Ida Craft, Miss Alice Parker Hutchins, and chauffeur Alphonse Major.
The Brooklyn Woman Suffrage Party headquarters was at 342 Livingston Street. This building is still standing and now houses a cosmetics shop. NYC Archives, 1940 tax photo

In addition to their cheerleading cat, the Brooklyn Woman Suffrage Party had its own car, called “The Suffrage Winner.” The vehicle was driven by Miss Helen J. Owen, who worked as an ambulance driver and mechanic at the First Northumberland VA Hospital in England. The women said they would drive around and ring the car’s liberty bell until the women of New York won the right to vote.

In April 1916, the Brooklyn Woman Suffrage Party moved from their little shop on Lafayette Street to “the daintiest little doll-house one could imagine” at 342 Livingston Street.

The new headquarters had pussy-willows and tulips in the window, but I do not know if Pussy Suff was invited to move there or not (the new headquarters was only about a block away from the headquarters of the Anti-Suffs, so if the cat was invited, she would have been close to her rival, Bob Williams).

All the furniture in the Brooklyn headquarters featured an image of the suffrage torch, a wooden and bronze sculpture that was used in women’s suffrage campaigns in New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania, starting in the summer of 1915.

The new headquarters comprised an anteroom, an office for the secretary, Miss Elfrieda Johnstone, a committee room, a kitchenette, and a large library and lounge in the back. The space was reportedly decorated to perfection in blue and yellow tones, with each piece of furniture made to order.

A Brief History of the Brooklyn Woman Suffrage Assocation

The suffrage movement in Brooklyn got its official start in 1868, when Anna C. Field hosted the first meeting of the Brooklyn Equal Rights Association in her home at 158 Hicks Street. About 20 men and women met that evening to show their support for “the promotion of the educational, industrial, legal and political equality of women, and especially the right of suffrage.”

Reverend Celia Burleigh
Reverend Celia Burleigh

One year later, in May 1869, the association organized at the Brooklyn Academy of Music. The group’s first president was Reverend Celia Burleigh, America’s first ordained Unitarian minister and a founding member of Solaris, the country’s first professional women’s organization. Burleigh believed every person had a right to individuality and that the right to vote assured “that [every woman] would one day belong to herself, live her own life, think her own thoughts and become a woman in a better sense than she had ever yet been.”

The association was renamed the Brooklyn Woman Suffrage Association in 1883. Monthly meetings in which the women discussed various legal rights involving their children, wages, jobs, and everything else, it seems, but their rights to have their first names published in newspapers if they were married, took place on Fridays at different homes throughout Brooklyn, including 155 Pierpont Street, 114 Pierrepont Street, and 80 Willoughby Street.

In November 1912, the group established permanent headquarters on the second floor of 27 Lafayette Avenue. Two years later, the group moved down to the ground floor, which opened the door of opportunity for a neighboring black cat with seven toes to stroll inside and make herself at home.

Members of the Brooklyn Woman Suffrage Association in their new headquarters in 1912: Mrs. Harriet Luvin, Miss Grace Frank, Mrs. B. Zulauf, Mrs. C. Knot, Mrs. Mutter, Miss M. Rosanusky, and Miss Alice Robbins.
In 1915, members of the Brooklyn Woman Suffrage Association took a rifle class.
In 1915, members of the Brooklyn Woman Suffrage Association took a rifle class. Pictured at their headquarters are Isabel Countay, Edith Case, Mrs. M. Pearson, Mrs. A. A. William, Minnie Bendschuk, Cora M. Kelley, Elizabeth Smart, Elizabeth Glassford, A. Douguid, and Catherine McKeon.

Although the Brooklyn women would ring their car’s liberty bell until November 6, 1917, which is when women won the right to vote in New York State, it would be almost another three turbulent years until the 19th Amendment granting women the right to vote was ratified, 72 years after the struggle for women’s suffrage began.

New York voted to give women the vote to right on November 6, 1917. New York State Library
Amen, sisters! New York voted to give women the vote to right on November 6, 1917. New York State Library

If you enjoyed this story, you may also want to read about Lem and Tiger, the Republican and Tammany Hall mascot cats in 1898.

Vintage feline in queen dress
This vintage feline queen is not Ko-Ko, but we can imagine that he is Mrs. Knowles’ cat.

“It is a wise cat that knows its own birthday, and Mrs. Edwin Knowles’ feline is wise, indeed.”–New York Dramatic Mirror, July 15, 1899

On July 5, 1899, Ko-Ko celebrated the thirteenth anniversary of his appearance on earth. The New York Dramatic Mirror noted, “Superstition has no place in the philosophy of Ko-Ko, so he didn’t mind coming right out and admitting the thirteen, though he doesn’t look a day over seven.”

To celebrate her beloved cat’s birthday, Mrs. Edwin Knowles (nee Sarah Goodrich) had a fancy breakfast in her home at 868 Lafayette Avenue in Brooklyn.

The guests included those high-society women who supported her in the recent elections of the Professional Women’s League. (Mrs. Knowles had run for president, but she was defeated by Mrs. A.M. Palmer). Many of the young ladies in attendance wore white and had flowers woven into their hair.

Edwin Knowles residence at 868 Lafayette Avenue, Brooklyn
The party took place at the Edwin Knowles residence at 868 Lafayette Avenue, Brooklyn. NYC Department of Records, 1940 tax photo

Ko-Ko, described as “perfectly formed, with beautiful tiger stripes and pale green phosphorescent eyes,” received with his mistress in the drawing room, barely taking notice of the numerous neck beads, framed engravings, and other gifts that were presented to him. One newspaper observed, “the birthday festival (was) similar to the memorable one that the Empress Eugenie gave to Napoleon III.”

During the breakfast, Ko-Ko dined on milk, crackers, rice pudding, and almonds. The New York Times pointed out that Ko-Ko was a temperance cat, and therefore did not join the ladies in drinking to his health with wine.

The feline guest of honor wore a collar of pearls of Egypt, described as “purple and brilliant.” He sat on a green silk cushion embroidered with leaves of the Lotus Alba. In addition to the gifts, the guests presented him with ribbons and flowers.

One newspaper compared Ko-Ko to the goddess Pacht (aka Bast), a goddess with feline night vision who was the protector of cats, women and children–and, incidentally, was the patron saint of firefighters. She was often portrayed as a cat, and people of Egypt worshipped cats in her honor.

Following the meal, the women danced a quadrille for Ko-Ko and read poetry while the cat “assumed the hieratic attitude of the goddess Pacht that the Pharaohs revived, and impressively he seemed to be her rightful heir in this lackadaisical age, that does not idolize cats.”

Many newspapers reported on the story and described Ko-Ko in detail. One newspaper said: “He is faithful to his home, he is affectionate without servility, he is charmingly decorative.”

Replying to a compliment about her cat, Mrs. Edwin Knowles said, “I am not worthy of lending any celebrity to Ko-Ko. He, rather, may make me famous.”

Sarah and Edwin Knowles

Sarah Goodrich Knowles was a Broadway actress when she met her theatrical husband, Edwin Forrest Knowles, in the 1870s. Knowles was also an actor at this time, but he would go on to manage numerous theaters, including the Grand Opera House in Brooklyn and the Fifth Avenue Theatre in Manhattan.

Born in Rhode Island in June 1846, Edwin Knowles began his theatrical career as an actor and chorus member with the Worrell Sisters at the old New York Theatre on Broadway. He married Sarah Goodrich in 1876, and six years later partnered with Colonel Theodore Morris as co-manager of Hyde and Behman’s Grand Opera House at 18 Elm Place in Brooklyn (now the site of a large parking garage).

Edwin Knowles managed numerous theaters throughout his career, including the Grand Opera House in Brooklyn.
Edwin Knowles managed numerous theaters throughout his career, including the Grand Opera House in Brooklyn.

The Wolf of the Amphion Theatre

Edwin Knowles opened the Amphion Theatre in 1888.
Edwin Knowles opened the Amphion Theatre in 1888. The theater was on Bedford Avenue between South 9th and South 10th Streets.

In 1888, Edwin Knowles opened the Amphion Theatre on Bedford Avenue in the Eastern District (Williamsburg). The four-story theater could reportedly seat 1,700 patrons and initially featured operas and dramas.

The Amphion Theater made the headlines in December 1910 when a wolf broke loose from its cage on the stage and bit eight people in the audience. According to the New York Times, the breakout occurred during the third act of “The Queen of the Highway.”

As the wolf made its way up the aisle, terrified men and women struggled with each other to run to the rear of the auditorium and out the doors. Policeman John J. Cosgrove of the Clymer Street Station tried to stop the wolf as the enraged animal tore away at his trousers.

Edwin Knowles
Edwin Knowles, 1902

Several stage hands tackled the wolf and threw a bag over its head. Dr. Dagler, who was in the audience, attended to the inured women, many of whom had fainted. When all was back in order, the stage hands raised the curtain and the last act was completed as if nothing had happened. Typical Old New York.

The theater eventfully became a cinema in the silent era. It was sold at auction in 1922 and continued to operate as a cinema until the 1930s.

The Amphion Theatre was demolished in 1940 as part of a slum clearing project. Today the land is occupied by the Bedford Playground.

By the time the wolf had made its escape, Edwin Knowles had been dead for eight years. He died in his home in April 1902 following an almost yearlong bout with severe paralysis. His cremated remains were placed in the family vault in Rhode Island.

Sarah Knowles continued to do charity work in Brooklyn until her death in March 1924 at the age of 75. The couple never had children; Ko-Ko, of course, would have been long gone, but there was no mention of any feline survivors in Mrs. Knowles’ obituary.