The police reserves of the Stagg Street station in Williamsburg were called into action one summer night in 1925 to quash a fight among some special feline inmates and their beloved mascot, Spark Plug.

This is not Spark Plug, but I love this vintage kitty and the name fits him!

Spark Plug was a Tom cat described as “a high-class cat with a well-established pedigree, going back for one generation on his mother’s side.” He had never been a stray cat and he was not about to share his territory with any interlopers.

So when the police began incarcerating stray cats in the jail cells at the Stagg Street station, he was none too pleased to share his home with the mongrel intruders. He was willing to put up a good fight to preserve his domain.

Why were cats locked up in jail cells meant for humans in the first place, you ask?

The problem began with a few empty lots on Scholes Street, between Humboldt Street and Bushwick Avenue. These empty lots were just one block from the Stagg Street police station.

In the early 1920s, these lots were used as a dumping ground for spoiled food scraps, old mattresses and shoes, and all types of garbage. The dumps attracted large rats, which in turn attracted all of Williamsburg’s stray cats.

Alderman John J. McCusker ordered the lots to be cleared and fenced in. The police of the Stagg Street station were also ordered to patrol the lots and arrest anyone caught dumping garbage.

There were a few problems with the fencing (see photo below). For one thing, they weren’t high enough to stop people from throwing their trash into the lots. And they weren’t narrow enough to stop the rats and the cats from getting in.

Scholes Street between Humboldt Street and Bushwick Avenue
NYPL
Empty lots like this one of the north side of Scholes Street between Humboldt Street and Bushwick Avenue attracted garbage, rats, and cats. The fences did not deter anyone. NYPL Digital Collections

By the summer of 1925, the neighborhood was overrun with stray cats. Tired of finding overturned milk bottles in their doorways and waking up to cat howls, residents turned to the police for help. That summer, the patrolmen of the Stagg Street station became cat catchers.

The plan was to have the police catch the cats and keep them in the jail cells until the SPCA could come and cart them away to their sad final destinations. The plan did not take into consideration that a mascot named Spark Plug ruled the roost.

Police Try Hand at Cat Catching Stagg Street Station, 1925

On the night of June 20, there were three large Tom cats in one of the police station’s 10 jail cells. Spark Plug “became furious with this breaking down of the social lines.” He snarled and spit and thrust his paws between the bars, determined to cause harm to the prisoners.

As the Brooklyn Daily Eagle reported, “The inmates on their part considered that their constitutional rights had been violated by being thus imprisoned without even a chance to consult counsel. Utterly ignoring the higher social status of Spark Plug, they spit back and also snarled and directed their combined paw-power against their attacker.”

Luckily for Spark Plug and the other Tom cats, two reserve police officers came to their mascot’s rescue and carted him off to the detective’s room. He remained a prisoner in that room until the SPCA took the unwanted feline guests away.

Humboldt and Scholes Streets, 1937
Humboldt and Scholes Streets, where stray cats once roamed, in 1937. NYPL Digital Collections

Ten years after this story took place, 568 buildings on approximately 25 acres between Maujer, Scholes, Leonard Streets, and Bushwick Avenue were demolished to make way for the Williamsburg Houses, originally called the Ten Eyck Houses. The development, built in 1936–1938 under the auspices of the Housing Division of the Public Works Administration, comprises 20 four-story residential buildings plus courtyards, playgrounds, a school, and a community building on twelve city blocks.

Approximately 5,400 residents were relocated from the neighborhood when their homes were demolished. The press did not report on how many cats were also forced to relocate.

A Brief History of the Stagg Street Police Station

The police station of what was originally the 6th Precinct occupied the southeast corner of Stagg Street and Morrell Street (Bushwick Avenue). This land had once been part of the Abraham Meserole farm.

Abraham Meserole was born in 1725, in what was then the town of Bushwick, Brooklyn. His father was Jean John Meserole and his mother was Elizabeth Praa.

The Stagg Street police station, 1922.
The Stagg Street police station, 1922.

The Meserole family arrived in the area in the seventeenth century, as part of a second wave of French Huguenot immigrants to arrive in Greenpoint. The Meseroles were one of five families who first settled in what are now the Greenpoint and Williamsburg neighborhoods.

The family was lead by Jean Meserole, who came to New Amsterdam in 1663 with his wife, Jonica Carten, and their infant son, Jan, on a ship called De Bonte Koe (the Spotted Cow). Jean bought a farm in New Utrecht (now Bay Ridge) in 1667.

A few years earlier, around 1660-61, Governor Peter Stuyvesant had begun advising the Brooklyn farming families to concentrate themselves in one area to provide protection against the Natives, who he said “had slain several of our Netherland people.” For the French Huguenot families, he selected land between Newtown and Bushwick Creeks, giving the area the name of Boswijck, meaning heavy woods, as the region was heavily forested.

Hearing that there was available land in Boswijck, Jean moved his family to a 107-acre farm along the East River, between North 1st Street and Broadway. He called it the Kyckout farm (Kyckout translates to Lookout). He built a house on the bluff, right about where the Williamsburg Bridge passes now. (In later years, the home was reportedly a favorite retreat for Billy the Kid.)

A large portion of this farm was purchased by David Molenaer (Miller), who expanded the small Meserole house in the mid-18th century (see illustration below). This home was demolished around 1864.

The Old Miller House
The west “wing” of the Miller house was the original Meserole home. The house was along the East River, right about near today’s North 4th Street. From “A History of the Town of Bushwick” (1884).

Sometime prior to the Revolutionary War, Abraham, the grandson of Jean Meserole, acquired about 40 city blocks of land from the heirs of Barnet Johnson, who had died in 1742. This land was then in the old town of Bushwick, which was incorporated into the Village of Williamsburg in 1827.

In 1845, that portion of his land bounded by Leonard Street, Ten Eyck Street, Stagg Street, and Bushwick Avenue (Morrell) was sold to Anthony Betts, Abraham’s son-in-law. From that point, the property was sold off in parcels and developed.

It was on a small corner of this land that the Stagg Street police station was built in 1861 for the Sixth Precinct.

The property of Abraham Meserole included a wedge of land at Bushwick Avenue and Stagg Street,
The property of Abraham Meserole included a wedge of land at Bushwick Avenue and Stagg Street, where the police station was constructed. 1874 map, NYPL Digital Collections

In 1852, the Sixth Precinct comprised the Fifteenth and Sixteenth Wards, known then as Dutchtown and encompassing neighborhoods called Picklesville and The Swamp. The original station house was on Ten Eyck Street, between present-day Manhattan and Graham Avenues. There were nine men assigned to this precinct at this time (the number rose to 36 following consolidation with the City of Brooklyn in 1855).

In 1856, the City of Brooklyn purchased the southeast lot at Stagg Street and what was then called Morrell Street (Bushwick Avenue) from Judge Daniel H. Feeks for just over $2,000. A new station house, three stories high with a two-story rear extension, opened on this property in January 1861. It was called the Stagg Street station, as the front door was on the side street.

Location of Stagg Street police station
The Stagg Street station is circled in blue. Morrell Street, opened in 1853, ran from the Newtown Turnpike (Flushing Avenue) to Maujer Street until Bushwick Avenue was straightened in 1860.

The building was brick with brownstone lintels. It featured a private bedroom for the captain and two bedrooms for the sergeants on the first floor, a sitting room and back room for the 5th District Court on the second floor, and four sleeping apartments to accommodate 24 men on the top floor. The lower floor of the extension had 10 cells (for humans and cats) and sleeping apartments for the homeless on the second floor.

The Stagg Street police station in 1940. NYC Department of Records.
The Stagg Street police station in 1940. NYC Department of Records.

In 1954, the Stagg Street station, then the 85th Precinct, was ordered shut down by Police Commissioner F.W.H. Adams. The building was converted into a youth center for juvenile delinquents in 1955. The building was demolished and replaced by a two-story hotel in 1971.

Bushwick Hotel
The Bushwick Hotel

 

J

On July 15, 1927, Brooklyn Borough President James J. Byrne pulled a lever switch at Prospect and Fourth Avenues, placing all the new traffic light signals on Fourth Avenue from Flatbush Avenue to 86th Street in operation. Several thousand people witnessed the ceremony and grand event.

The new electric traffic lights were confusing to some motorists and pedestrians. But not to Nickie*, the black cat of Motorcycle Squad No. 2 adjoining the former 18th Precinct police station on the southwest corner of 4th Avenue and 43rd Street in Brooklyn’s Sunset Park.

By September 1927, Nickie had the whole red-light, green-light thing all figured out.

Sunset Park police station
The Motorcycle Squad was attached to the Fourth Avenue police station in Sunset Park. The castle-like station was completed in 1892, the same year an almost identical police station opened on Liberty Avenue in Brooklyn.

Nickie, described as the “mouse catcher extraordinary of the neighborhood,” frequently left his place of business in the garage of the Motorcycle Squad to visit the lunch wagon across from the police station. There, he would do some work catching mice and rats in exchange for some lamb chops and other tasty morsels.

Prior to the installation of the traffic lights, walking to the lunch wagon was a hazardous undertaking for Nickie. The Motorcycle Squad cat would have to quickly dash across the northbound side and then stop on the ventilation island to catch his breath before dashing across the southbound side of the road.

Prospect and 4th Avenue Brooklyn
Brooklyn Borough President James J. Byrne pulled a lever switch at Prospect and Fourth Avenues, pictured here in 1941.

Soon after the lights went into operation, Nickie’s life became a lot easier—and a lot safer. Now, every time he got ready to cross the busy street, the cat would look up and down the avenue.

If he saw the green lights showing, he would wait patiently at the curb. As soon as the lights changed to red, he would “calmly, majestically” stride across the street, “undaunted by the waiting motor cars, impatiently held, like at leash ready to spring at him at the first showing of a green light.”

According to the cat’s caretaker, Detective John McGowan, Nickie seemed to know that the automobiles had to wait for him when the light was red, and he knew exactly how long it would take for the red light to soften to yellow and then to green.

A Brief History of the NYPD Motorcycle Squad

NYPD Motorcycle Squad Officers, 1920
NYPD Motorcycle Squad Officers, 1920

In 1905, New York City installed its first five traffic lights (at Colum­bus Circle, the Pennsylvania Railroad Ferry on West 23rd Street, Times Square, Broadway and 72nd Street, and Amsterdam Ave­nue and 73rd Street). That same year, the newly organized Traffic Squad had 581 men assigned to traffic duty, including 7 mounted roundsmen and 69 mounted patrolmen (the police stables were at 17 Leonard Street), 2 bicycle roundsmen and 9 bicycle patrolmen, and hundreds of foot patrolmen.

Although the Traffic Squad continued to expand over the next few years, and the city continued adding more traffic lights, the lights and the squad were not enough to regulate the excessive motorized traffic and the increasing number of law-breaking speeders.

8th New York City Police Commissioner Rhinelander Waldo established first Motorcycle Squad
8th New York City Police Commissioner Rhinelander Waldo.

On June 9, 1911, only 17 days after he took office, Police Commissioner Waldo Rhinelander established the department’s first motorcycle squad. Organized under the “Office of Street Traffic Regulation Bureau” and originally attached to the Traffic Squad, the cops of the Motorcycle Squad supplemented the futile efforts of the pedal-pushing cops of the Bicycle Squad (founded in 1895 by then Commissioner Theodore Roosevelt) in apprehending speeders.

Within a 5-month period, the motorcycle police had written 3,710 summonses for close to $18,000 in fines (the average fine for a traffic violation in 1911 was about $5). By 1912, the squad comprised 27 patrolmen, 1 sergeant, and 25 motorcycles scattered throughout various precincts.

Eventually, the squad was divided into 3 squads, with Squad No. 1 covering Manhattan, the Bronx, and Staten Island; Squad No. 2 assigned to Brooklyn; and Squad No. 3 covering Queens. By 1930, the Motorcycle Squad had grown to about 315 officers, 289 motorcycles, 28 sidecars, and two sedans.

The squad merged with the Accident Investigation Squad in 1972 to become the NYPD Highway Patrol. 

*Nickie was not the cat’s actual name. Like many all-black animals of the nineteenth and early 20th centuries, the cat’s given name is now an offensive ethnic slur.

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