Only a dog do you say, Sir Critic?
Only a dog, but as truth I prize,
The truest love I have won in living
Lay in the deeps of her limpid eyes.

Frosts of winter nor heat of summer
Could make her fail if my footsteps led:
And memory holds in its treasure casket
The name of my darling who lieth dead.

Fannie Howe Green-Wood Cemetery
with "Only a Dog" poem
Fannie Howe’s monument is engraved with “only a Dog!” and a few other lines of the poem Flight, written by Miss M.A. Collins (aka S.M.A.C.), a 19th-century author and tobacco plantation owner from Tennessee. The poem first appeared in the Saturday Evening Post sometime prior to 1876.

On the southwest corner of Battle Avenue and Hemlock Avenue in Brooklyn, just down from the Civil War Soldier’s Monument on Battle Hill in Green-Wood Cemetery, there is a circular plot of grass (lots 19967 and 19970) surrounded by a low wall of Quincy granite. In the center, there is a granite monument with a once-bronze bust of a long-haired man and the name “Howe” engraved in large letters.

In this plot are buried Elias Howe, Jr., his second wife, Rose Halladay Howe, and several other family members. One of the family members reportedly buried in this plot is Fannie, Mrs. Howe’s beloved pure-bred Pug.

Elias Howe Jr. Plot
Elias Howe Jr. and his second wife, Rose, are buried in this lovely circular plot near Battle Hill. Although many sources claim Fannie was the favorite dog of Elias, he died about two years before Fannie was reportedly born. It was Rose Howe who purchased the monument to memorialize her loyal canine companion.

Fannie the Pug came into Rose Halladay Howe’s life about two years after her husband, Elias Howe Jr., passed away. Elias Howe Jr., as you may or may not recall from your grammar school history lessons, is credited with inventing the sewing machine (nope, it wasn’t Singer).

Actually, Thomas Frank developed the first sewing machine in 1790, but it wasn’t practical. Elias was granted a patent for the lockstitch (the basic stitch made by a sewing machine) in 1846. This patent expired in 1867, the same year Elias died of Bright’s disease (kidney disease) at the young age of 48.

Although Fannie was only a dog, she was quite well known in New York City’s canine society. For twelve years, she lived with her mistress in a luxury brownstone at 330 Clinton Avenue in Brooklyn. Rose and Elias never had any children together (Elias had three children with his first wife, Elizabeth Jennings Ames), so Fannie was quite the pampered pooch.

Elias Howe Jr.
In 1854, Elias Howe sued Isaac Singer, who was using Howe’s patented lockstitch and incorporating it into his own sewing machines. Howe won the case, and the royalties he earned (retrospective to 1846) made him a millionaire. He donated much of this money to his fellow Union Army soldiers during the Civil War.

When Fannie died on December 10, 1881, Rose Howe was inconsolable. According to an article published in 1889 in the Brooklyn Eagle, she insisted that the Pug was entitled to a funeral “such as never before was given a dumb animal in this country.”

Cards were immediately delivered announcing the funeral, and friends of Mrs. Howe came from all over New York and Brooklyn to her house bearing floral arrangements to honor only a dog. Some of the women also brought their dogs so they could also participate in mourning.

Elias Howe Jr.
After Elias Howe died in 1867, he was buried in his home state of Massachusetts at Cambridge Cemetery. When Rose died in 1890, his body was moved and husband and wife were both buried together with – allegedly—Fannie in the family plot at Green-Wood Cemetery in Brooklyn.

There was a quartet who sang many songs, including Stephen Foster’s “Old Dog Tray'” and Rose’s minister friend offered a funeral sermon. All the while, the body of Fannie reposed in a silver casket with a glass cover, completely draped with a gold embroidered white cloth, only her face exposed.

Shortly after the doggie funeral, news quickly spread that Rose Howe had buried Fannie in Green-Wood Cemetery. Some people viewed this as a desecration of the cemetery, especially since the burial reportedly took place “in the most aristocratic portion of the Celebrated City of the Dead.”

In 1889, a person wrote to the editor of the Brooklyn Eagle to ask for confirmation of whether or not a dog was buried at the cemetery. The newspaper said that their call to the cemetery brought a reply that dogs were not allowed to be buried there, and that this was a rule the Board of Trustees had passed a few years ago.

In fact, it was at the annual meeting of the lot-owners of Green-Wood Cemetery on March 17, 1880, held at 30 Broadway in Manhattan, that this specific report of the Board of Trustees for 1879 was read.

In that report, titled “The Records of the Great Burial Ground for 1879,” and published in The New York Times on March 18, 1880, it states:

“The interment in Green-Wood, in a private lot, of a favorite dog, elicited much comment, and was the occasion of many remonstrances, verbal and written, being addressed to the Trustees, requesting them to prohibit such interments in the future.

“The intensity of feeling exhibited in these communications, however differently the subject might be viewed by others, could not but be respected, and the board accordingly passed a resolution prohibiting hereafter all interments of brute animals in the cemetery.”

Stephen Collins Foster
Stephen Collins Foster (1826 – 1864), known as “the Father of American music”, wrote “Old Dog Tray” in 1853. However, many of the over 200 other songs he wrote were much more popular then and now, like “Oh! Susanna,” “Camptown Races,” “Beautiful Dreamer,” and “I Dream of Jeanie With the Light Brown Hair.”

We know that Fannie died and was buried in 1881 — two years after the Board of Trustees passed this ruling prohibiting animal burials. So that leaves a few questions: Who was the dog that so many people complained about prior to 1879?

Could it have been John E. Stow’s Rex or Laddie, the two other dogs which have monuments in the cemetery? And, was Rose Howe able to somehow bury her loyal friend after the rule against four-footed family members took effect at Green-Wood, or was Fannie buried in Rose’s backyard, as one gentleman told the Brooklyn Eagle in 1889?

What I do know is that the only “dogs” mentioned in the Board of Trustees report for 1881 were the 100 dogwood trees that were planted in the cemetery that year (the lot-owners also introduced 40 gray squirrels to the cemetery in 1881). I also know that in January 1890, Thomas Merchant, superintendent of interments at Green-Wood Cemetery, told a reporter from the Buffalo News that no animals were buried in the cemetery. He was also unable to explain the inscription on Fannie’s monument and declined to discuss the matter.

I guess for now we’ll just have to let sleeping dogs lie.

Flight, M.A. Collins
Here is Miss M.A. Collins’ complete ode to only a dog.
Newfoundland

In 1895, 71-year-old Christopher Fagan was alone in the world. All his family and friends had died and he really had no place to call home. So he decided to build a little house along Saint Nicholas Terrace somewhere around West 128th Street, right on the grounds of the Academy and Convent of the Sacred Heart.

He constructed the shelter using tin sheets and various odds and ends, but everything was carefully soldered together so the shanty kept him fairly warm and dry.

Inside, it was neat and clean, and he had plenty of wood fuel for the winter. Christopher Fagan also had a large Newfoundland named Spruce to keep him company on Saint Nicholas Terrace.

The kindhearted sisters of the Convent of the Sacred Heart allowed the elderly man to squat on their land on Saint Nicholas Terrace, and even provided food for Christopher and Spruce. In return, Chris did odd jobs for the nuns when he wasn’t foraging for wood fuel.

Point of Rocks, Saint Nicholas Terrace 
St. Nicholas Park
The rocky outcropping upon which Christopher Fagan made his home was no doubt part of “Point of Rocks,” which is today near West 128th Street on the upper path at the southeast corner of St. Nicholas Park. It was here that General George Washington positioned himself during the battle of Harlem Heights in 1776.

For nine years, he and Spruce led a very simple life in their makeshift home on Saint Nicholas Terrace, just a few miles away from the hustle and bustle of downtown Manhattan.

The Academy of the Sacred Heart

Founded in May 1841 by the Society of the Sacred Heart – a Catholic order of nuns — the Academy of the Sacred Heart was a boarding school and day school for girls originally located in a three-story house at 412 Houston Street. Under the charge of Mother Yelizaveta Alexeyevich Golitsyna (aka, Elizabeth Gallitzin), the academy quickly outgrew this building. In 1845, a year after Mother Gallitzin’s death, the school moved to Astoria, Queens.

Academy of the Sacred Heart
The academy quickly outgrew the home on Houston Street, which did not provide enough room for boarders.

On February 17, 1847, Mother Superior Mary Ann Aloysia Hardey finalized a deal to purchase about 62 acres from the estate of tobacco magnate Jacob Lorillard for $50,000. The estate was located just north of West 128th Street in the village of Manhattanville, high on a rocky outcropping with a view of the Harlem and Hudson rivers to the east and west.

As the story goes, the heirs of Jacob Lorillard had put the property up for sale, but at the last minute his widow, Anna Margaretta Kunze, decided she did not want to sell it to the Catholic Church. Mother Hardey ordered all the nuns and pupils to make a novena by repeating the Stations of the Cross for nine days.

Manhattanville 1860
In this 1860 photo of Manhattanville, you can see some of the Convent of the Sacred Heart buildings beyond the trees in the background and some shanties and rock outcroppings in the foreground.

Some might call it a miracle, others a fluke, but on the ninth day, Anna Margaretta died, allowing the sale to go through. (As Bishop John Hughes said, “Beware of opposing Mother Hardey, because she will kill you with her novenas.”) The price was even reduced by $20,000 and an extra twelve acres were tossed into the deal.

Mary Aloysia Hardey
Mary Aloysia Hardey was a central figure in the expansion of the Society of the Sacred Heart in North America. During her 27 years as Superior, she established 16 houses of the Sacred Heart from Canada to Cuba and throughout the eastern United States. She died in Paris on June 17, 1886, and is buried in Albany, NY.

Over the years, many girls from well-known families graduated from the Academy of the Sacred Heart in New York, including Rose Fitzgerald (later, Mrs. Joseph Kennedy Sr.), Martha and Lilly Washington (George’s grand-nieces), and Jeanette Bell, the daughter of James Gordon Bennett.

The Great Fire of 1888

“Tongues of flame leaped up a hundred feet above the doomed buildings, and cast their bright reflections on the Harlem on the north and east.” New York Times, August 15, 1888

On August 13, 1888, at about 8 p.m., flames were spotted on the roof near the cupola of the main convent building. The old building and chapel had been undergoing renovations, and it was thought that one of the tinners who was working on the roof did not extinguish a stove in the attic.

Academy of the Sacred Heart
By the late 1880s, the campus of the Convent of the Sacred Heart included the original building from the old Lorillard estate, a chapel and infirmary wing to the east, a large class hall to the north, a four-story music hall, several cottages, and a mansard-roofed parochial school for neighborhood children, shown here.

At the time, about 50 students were saying night prayers in the large class hall. There were also about 140 nuns in residence. Everyone escaped without injury; the girls were all escorted to the cottages on Convent Hill and the nuns moved into a large study hall set aside for them at nearby Manhattan College.

As they waited for the fire engines to arrive, four men who worked at the academy tried to put out the flames with a hose. Realizing their efforts to extinguish the fast-moving fire was hopeless, they turned their attention to saving valuable paintings, statues, and relics from the convent and the chapel.

As the flames rapidly spread from one building to another, the men threw out whatever linen and furniture they could toss from windows.

Academy of Sacred Heart ruins
All that was left of the Academy of the Sacred Heart were ruins following the fire in 1888.

Although numerous fire engines responded, the closest fire hydrant was 2,000 feet away, so there was very little water force by the time the hose streams reached the fire. No fuel trucks arrived with extra coal, so the firemen had to break down fences to use as fuel for the steam engines.

Following the fire, classes were moved into cottages on the campus. An elaborate pavilion designed by William Schickel and built in 1879 on the estate of newspaper publisher Oswald Ottendorfer as a garden tea house served as a temporary place of worship for the nuns.

aerial view of Manhattanville College of the Sacred Heart 
Saint Nicholas Terrace
This aerial view of Manhattanville College of the Sacred Heart was taken some time before 1952. The former academy buildings were vacated in 1952 when the college was moved to Purchase, New York. Only a few of the original structures remain standing on what is now part of the southern campus of the City College of New York.

One year later, a new academy, also designed by William Schickel, rose up on the foundations of the former buildings along Saint Nicholas Terrace. The school was renamed Manhattanville College of the Sacred Heart in 1937 and then shortened to Manhattanville College in 1966.

Christopher and Spruce Get the Boot

About two weeks before Christmas 1904, the sisters told Christopher that they were planning on expanding the campus, and that he would have to leave his home on Saint Nicholas Terrace. He didn’t believe this was possible, so he continued living in the shack with Spruce.

Municipal Lodging House
The Municipal Lodging House at First Avenue and 23rd Street opened December 2, 1896, with a bed capacity for 317 male lodgers. A newer building, shown here, was constructed in 1909 to accommodate about 1,000 homeless men and women in six sleeping rooms (one room was set aside for women and children). It featured white enamel beds, shower baths, a dining room, and a laundry.

One week later, an officer from the Charity Organization Society came to take him away. Christopher and Spruce were sitting in front of a bright fire at the time.

Christopher was terribly upset, but not about losing the only home he knew. He was worried about what would happen to his faithful four-footed friend.

On December 18, Christopher appeared before Magistrate Hogan in Harlem Court, and was committed to the Charity Organization Society. The society sent him to the Municipal Lodging House at 398 First Avenue, where he would stay until better provisions could be found for him.

Spruce, now 16 years old and too weak to follow his master when he was taken away, stayed behind.

Josephine Shaw Lowell
Josephine Shaw Lowell, one of the founders of the Charity Organization Society, was a social reformer who led many movements in the city, including the separation of charities and corrections, creation of state asylums for women and girls, the abolition of police lodgings in New York, the establishment of municipal lodging-houses for men, and placing matrons in all police stations.

Christopher, now 80 years old, was inconsolable without his dog. A few days later, he found out that the sisters had heard Spruce wailing in the cold shanty during a storm. They brought him into the convent and fed him, and gave him a warm place to sleep in the cellar.

Christopher Fagan was glad to hear that Spruce was being cared for, but he begged for his dog to be returned to him as soon as the Society found him a new home. He said he and his dog would soon die unless they were reunited.

I’m sorry to say that I do not know how this story ended, but hopefully man and dog were allowed to spend their final years together.

When you compare this recent aerial view of the CUNY southern campus with that of the former Manhattanville College of the Sacred Heart, you'll see that some of the buildings are the same, including the Convent Garden Apartments on West 130th Street (bottom right) and a few of the buildings on Convent Avenue (left).
When you compare this recent aerial view of the CUNY southern campus with that of the former Manhattanville College of the Sacred Heart, you’ll see that some of the buildings are the same, including the Convent Garden Apartments on West 130th Street (bottom right) and a few of the buildings on Convent Avenue (left).

“This is a novel importation; but if the experiment should prove successful, it may become one of some importance to the improvement of the growth of wool on this continent.” New York Herald article on llamas arrival in New York, December 16, 1857

On December 15, 1857, 42 llamas arrived in New York City on the Panama Railroad Company’s brig E. Drummond under the command of Captain Crippen Chapman (try saying that fast). The llamas (they were probably alpacas, but the New York press called them llamas) were owned by French naturalist Eugene Roehn and consigned to James I. Fisher & Son of Baltimore.

Llamas

Their journey began in the mountains of Ecuador, and from there they traveled to Panama. When they reached Panama, the llamas had to go by railroad to Aspinwall (today’s Colón), which was then the Atlantic terminal of the Panama Railroad (the canal would not open until 1914). From Aspinwall the herd sailed by ship on board the E. Drummond to New York via Key West.

By the time the llamas arrived in New York, they were extremely thin. The herd itself had also thinned out: Although the expedition began with 71 llamas, 29 died during the long journey.

Eugene Roehn’s plan was to introduce the llamas into wool-growing districts in the northeastern United States. Because they produced the finest kind of alpaca wool – worth 60 cents a pound as an export – Roehn thought they would become more valuable than sheep.

Aspinwall Panama
In 1857, the average passage from Aspinwall to New York would have been 25 days. Pictured here is La Floride in the port of Aspinwall in 1865.

The First Stop: Allerton’s Bull’s Head Hotel

Upon their arrival in New York, the llamas were taken to the stables of the Bull’s Head Hotel near the northeast corner of 44th Street and Fifth Avenue. This hotel, owned by the Allerton brothers, was the resort of the drovers and butchers who did business at the cattle yards just east of the hotel.

In the 19th century, the Allertons of Amenia, New York (Dutchess County) were to livestock what the Kardashians are to reality TV. Between 1800 and 1876, the Allerton family built a livestock empire that stretched from Illinois to New York City. By the late 1870s, they controlled the shipment of livestock into New York City on all the major railroads, including the Pennsylvania, the New York Central, and the Erie.

The first documented drover (one who moves livestock) in the family was Archibald Montgomery Allerton, who was born in Amenia in 1780. Shortly after his marriage to Rebecca Chamberlain in 1803, A.M. Allerton moved to New York City. There, he operated a drove yard and cattle market known as the Upper Bull’s Head on land once part of the Thomas Buchanan Farm.

Bull's Head Hotel 45th and Fifth
The Bull’s Head, depicted here in 1830, was located on present-day 45th Street and Fifth Avenue, on land that was once part of the Thomas Buchannan farm. This farm was located between today’s Fifth Avenue and Park Avenue from 41st to 49th streets.

Except for a break to serve as a lieutenant in the War of 1812, A.M. Allerton continued to operate the Bull’s Head until the 1830s. When he retired to Broome County, New York, to resume farming, Allerton turned over the drove yards and hotel — alternately called Allerton’s Bull’s Head, Upper Bull’s Head, Washington Drove Yards, and Allerton Stock Yards — to his sons, George Washington, David, and Archibald M. Jr.

Sometime around 1849, David and Archibald Jr. left the cattle business to get on the California Gold Rush bandwagon. They returned to New York City with $31,000 and resumed their livestock business with several Manhattan drove yards.

In July 1862 – two months after their father died – the Allerton brothers lost the Bull’s Head hotel and stockyards during the New York City Draft Riots. According to published reports, the mob set the hotel and tavern on fire after David Allerton had refused to serve them alcohol. In 1866, Archibald and his partners in the National Stock Yard Company entered into a contract with the Erie Railroad to operate new stockyards on 11th Avenue and 40th Street.

Sherwood House
In October 1875, the Fifth Avenue Bank of New York opened in the basement of the Sherwood House on the northeast corner of 45th Street and Fifth Avenue, pictured here in 1889.

John H. Sherwood, a prominent builder known for his high-class residences on Fifth Avenue north of 42nd Street, bought the former Allerton site after the Civil War ended and erected the Sherwood House, a popular family hotel. Sherwood and others later founded the Fifth Avenue Bank of New York, which opened for business in October 1875 in the basement of the Sherwood House.

Twenty years later, the old hotel was replaced by Delmonico’s restaurant (demolished in 1923). Today, 551 Fifth Avenue is the Fred F. French Building, a 38-story skyscraper erected in 1927.

Although most of the llamas remained on exhibit at Allerton’s, about a dozen appeared at the American Institute’s Fat Cattle Show at the Crystal Palace, an annual event that brought cattle men and breeders together to sell livestock and compete for the fattest cattle. The llamas, although quite thin under their thick wool coats, were quite popular with the men’s wives and children.

The Fat Cattle Show at the Crystal Palace

The Crystal Palace, New York
Completed in 1853, the New York Crystal Palace was a cast-iron and steel structure designed by architects Georg J. B. Carstensen and Charles Gildermeister. The domed building was shaped like a Greek cross and was reported to be fireproof (the Titanic was once reported to be unsinkable…).

In July 1852, the Association of the Exhibition of the Industry of All Nations received permission from city authorities to erect a large exhibition hall on Reservoir Square, along Sixth Avenue between 40th and 42nd streets — what is today Bryant Park and the main branch of the New York Public Library.

Once a field occupied by small hills and streams, and later a potter’s field following the Revolutionary War, this part of Manhattan was far outside the city limits and still rural with dirt roads in the 1850s.

Crystal Palace New York
Adjoining the Crystal Palace was the Latting Observatory, a 315-foot iron and wood tower that was the tallest structure in New York City from the time it was constructed in 1853 until it burned down on August 30, 1856. From the top, visitors could see Queens, Staten Island, and New Jersey.

The Crystal Palace was built to house what is often thought of as the first United States world’s fair, known as the “Exhibition of the Industry of All Nations.” The exhibition was inspired by similar events featuring agricultural products and industrial innovations that took place in London in 1851 and Dublin in 1852. In New York, the exhibit opened on July 14, 1853, with newly sworn President Franklin Pierce in attendance.

The exhibition closed on November 1, 1854, but the Crystal Palace continued to host the Fair of the American Institute, including the Fat Cattle Show, for the next few years.

Elisha Otis elevator demonstration, Crystal Palace
Elisha Otis first obtained widespread attention for his elevator at the Crystal Palace in 1854. It was here that he demonstrated an elevator equipped with a device called a safety, which would engage if the hoisting rope broke. The safety addressed a major concern people had with elevators.

On October 5, 1858, a fire broke out in the Crystal Palace lumber room during the American Institute Fair. Nearly 2,000 people were inside when the fire broke out, but no one was injured. One man was reportedly rescued only seconds before the dome collapsed.

During the Civil War, Reservoir Square was used as an encampment for Union Army troops. Twenty years later, in 1884, the square was renamed Bryant Park in honor of William Cullen Bryant, the recently deceased poet, civic reformer, and longtime editor of the New York Evening Post. The city also approved designs for the New York Public Library, which was completed in 1911.

Only five years after it opened, the Crystal Palace burned to the ground in a spectacular, fast-burning fire.
Only five years after it opened, the Crystal Palace burned to the ground in a spectacular, fast-burning fire.
Boxing Kangaroo
With the introduction of boxing kangaroos in America, marsupials were in high demand. Circuses and vaudeville houses sent cables to agents and ship captains in Australia requesting as many as they could find, but there were just not enough to go around. Some places resorted to putting a man in a kangaroo suit. The boxing kangaroo craze continued into the 1940s.

In the spring of 1893, 27-year-old Frank C. Bostock and his wife, Susannah Ethel Bailey, sold their shares of the Bostock, Wombell, and Bailey Circus (yes, that Bailey) and sailed from Liverpool to New York aboard the Bovic, a White Star Line steamship that specialized in the shipment of livestock. The couple didn’t travel alone; their traveling companions included three lions, a kangaroo, and several other large animals from the family’s traveling menagerie. Frank, their boxing kangaroo, would soon become a headliner at Koster and Bial’s Music Hall.

Upon arrival in New York, Frank set up his first exhibition stand near 5th Avenue and Flatbush Avenue in Brooklyn. A showman described the set-up this way: “The Bostock family lived in one wagon and the other two wagons housed four monkeys, five parrots, three lions, a sheep, and a boxing kangaroo.”

The kangaroo pugilist, whom Frank Bostock called Big Frank, had earned his fame in London at the Royal Aquarium. News of the British boxing kangaroo had generated much curiosity in the United States, so Bostock decided to introduce the act to New York.

Koster and Bial 200 Worth Street
John Koster and Albert Bial owned several restaurants and saloons in New York, including this restaurant at 200 Worth Street, which was where the two men reportedly first met. New York Public Library Digital Collections

Big Frank made his American debut on June 1, 1893, at the Madison Square Garden Amphitheater. As The New York Times described the event, the kangaroo wore a pair of regulation boxing gloves on his forepaws and was over six feet tall when standing on his hind legs. He was escorted into the ring by his opponent, “a burly colored man.” (Yes, this was over 100 years ago.)

As soon as Frank Bostock called “Time!” the kangaroo hopped nimbly on his hind legs to the center of the ring with his paws in correct boxing position. He followed his opponent all about the ring, and used a downward chopping movement with his gloved paws. Every time he took a blow from his opponent, he used his tail to keep his balance.

The event ended with three rounds of sparring between Frank the kangaroo and Frank the circus man. Homosapien Frank won the match by throwing himself on marsupial Frank and toppling him to the ground.

Koster & Bial’s Music Hall

Koster and Bial's Music Hall 23rd Street
The first Koster & Bial’s Music Hall was on the corner of Sixth Ave. and 23rd St. Originally home to Bryant’s Opera House, it featured an open-air garden and an enclosed theater. NYPL Digital Collections

One month after making his rounds at Madison Square Garden, Frank the boxing kangaroo was a headliner at Koster & Bial’s Music Hall, a vaudeville theater and beer garden at the northwest corner of 23rd Street and 6th Avenue. Big Frank was apparently a big hit there, as they kept him on the program until the close of the season at the end of August.

Koster & Bial’s has an interesting history, to say the least.

John Koster and Albert Bial were both born in Germany in the 1840s and immigrated to America in the early 1860s. The two men reportedly met in 1869 when Koster hired Bial to work at his restaurant at 200 Worth Street, on the corner of Park Row.

They soon became partners in several restaurants as well as the beer-bottling business.

On May 5, 1879, Koster and Bial purchased a concert hall on 23rd Street near the corner of 6th Avenue. Built in 1870, the theater was originally called Bryant’s Opera House, the home of the popular blackface minstrel troupe, Bryant’s Minstrels.

The Corner, 24th and Sixth Avenue
“The Corner” building was designed by the German architects Herman J. Schwarzmann and Albert Buchman in 1886. It connected to the music hall so theater-goers could enter either through the main entrance at 23rd Street or through The Corner’s ornate entrance of cast iron, stained glass and polished wood on 24th Street, shown in this photograph. NYPL Digital Collections

Following the death of Dan Bryant in 1875, the theater was then home to one concert hall after the other, including Darling’s Opera House, 23rd Street, Theatre Francaise, and the St. James.

In 1881 the partners expanded the business with a 1200-seat vaudeville theater at 115-117 West 23rd Street adjoining the older building. The property was owned by Alfred B. Darling, who also owned Proctor’s Theatre and who was a senior proprietor of the Fifth-Avenue Hotel.

To circumvent a law against serving alcohol in theaters, Koster and Bial replaced the stage curtain with a folding screen. That way, they could say they were a restaurant that provided entertainment rather than a theater offering food and drink.

It was at this theater that Big Frank the boxing kangaroo appeared nightly.

The Corner, Koster & Bial's
The Corner featured a saloon and retail outlet for Koster and Bial’s beer bottling business on the ground floor and sitting rooms on the upper floors. NYPL Digital Collections

The Koster & Bial’s complex continued to grow to include an outdoor beer garden stretching along Sixth Avenue. With Koster in charge of the alcohol and Bial in charge of the performers, Koster & Bial’s was a popular boozy and burlesque-y venue.

In 1886, the partners built an annex called “The Corner” at the southwest corner of 24th Street. The annex had had a saloon and retail outlet for their beer bottling business on the ground floor and sitting rooms on the upper floors.

Albert Bial
This portrait of Albert Bial appeared in Moses King’s Notable New Yorkers of 1896-1899.

Trouble began when Koster & Bial’s started offering more than beer and vaudeville (wink wink). According to The New York Times, the concert hall had a notorious “cork room” in which the walls were covered with champagne bottle stoppers.

“The affairs that took place in the room in the late hours after show time would have astonished the churchgoers,” the Times noted.

Numerous police raids and the scandal they created forced Koster and Bial to close the music hall and annex on August 26, 1893. The Trocadero Vaudevilles were next to move into the music hall, followed by Bon Ton (burlesque) in 1920.

The building was torn down in 1924 and replaced by a six-story brick apartment building.

Josiah Belden moved into The Corner in 1894, operating a billiards parlor and grocery on the first floor and lodging rooms above. For many years during the late-20th century the building housed various entertainment venues until Billy’s Topless bar opened in 1970 (later renamed Billy’s Stopless).

The new Koster and Bial's Music Hall on 34th Street opened on August 28, 1893, just two days after authorities shut down their 23rd Street venue. Museum of the City of New York Collections
The new Koster & Bial’s Music Hall on 34th Street opened on August 28, 1893, just two days after authorities shut down their 23rd Street venue. Museum of the City of New York Collections

Mayor Rudolph Giuliani shut down Billy’s in 2001, and today it’s The Corner Cafe.

After getting kicked out of 23rd Street, Koster and Bial hooked up with Oscar Hammerstein. Hammerstein owned the Manhattan Opera House, a large theater built in 1892 on 34th Street at Herald Square.

Having failed to succeed with high-class opera, Hammerstein offered Koster and Bial a partnership under which he would manage the vaudeville entertainment and they would manage the food.

The new Koster and Bial’s Music Hall opened on August 28, 1893.

Koster & Bial 34th Street
Ticket prices in the new theater ranged from 25¢ for a seat in the gallery to $1.50 for one of the 700 blue satin and silk upholstered, reserved orchestra seats. For that price, one also had a shelf on the back of his or her chair to place alcoholic beverages. The balcony level, reached by marble stairs from the foyer, had 16 exclusive boxes, and the third level refreshment promenade had tables and chairs to accommodate 800 patrons. MCNY Collections

The Kinetoscope at Koster & Bial’s

It was at Koster & Bial’s on 34th Street that inventor Thomas Armat gave the first public demonstration of the projecting kinetoscope movie projector, called the Vitascope, on April 23, 1896. The partners’ plan was to use the Vitascope to reproduce scenes from various successful plays and operas, as well as political speeches, and project them on the 12 x 20 foot screen.

Vitascope
The Vitascope was invented and developed by Thomas Armat, but by mutual agreement Thomas Edison’s Kinetograph company acquired, manufactured, and marketed it, and presented it as having been invented by Edison. Koster & Bial had exclusive rights for exhibiting the projector. A plaque in Macy’s commemorates the Vitascope exhibition.

Although the music hall had some successes, it was more often plagued with financial and management issues. On July 17, 1901, Macy’s announced that it had purchased the property and would be demolishing the theater and other buildings to make way for its flagship store at 34th Street and Broadway.

Three days later, Koster and Bial’s last performance took place on the roof garden. The show ended with a chorus of performers and customers singing “Auld Lang Syne.”

kosterbielsign
A plaque on 34th Street commemorates the first “moving picture” at Koster and Bial’s Music Hall. Photo by P. Gavan

The Kangaroos Keep Kicking

In the spring of 1894, Frank Bostock brought his animal show to Balmer’s Bathing Pavilion near the New Iron Pier at Coney Island. Ten years later, he opened the Bostock Arena at the brand-new Dreamland amusement park at Coney Island. Throughout these years, he continued to feature a boxing kangaroo.

Bostock died of the flu in England in 1912, about a year after the Dreamland fire (May 27, 1911), in which 60 of his 150 animals died. I don’t know if a boxing kangaroo was among those that perished in the flames.

The Corner
The Corner’s cornice and brownstone street markers are still intact today (see top of photo and lower right brick on the second level). So if you happen to be walking down Sixth Avenue near 24th Street, look up and say, “Hey, I know the story behind this building!”
Jiggs Engine Company 205 Dalmatian
Hatching Cat
Paunchy with good living and good fellowship with chefs and motorists, it should be beside the fireside rather than inside the fire line for Jiggs.” Brooklyn Standard Union, August 25, 1923

“Jiggs was the dog who started out as a lithe, slim pup who ran yelping and barking just ahead of the three beautiful horses that pulled old “205.” But Jiggs fell into evil ways. He became a connoisseur of Borough Hall restaurant kitchens. A gourmet.

Things came to such a pass that Jiggs fell down on his job of leading the fire engine. He grew to the proportions of a Shetland pony . . .” –Brooklyn Standard Union, 1929, article about the fire dog of Engine Company 205

When 8-year-old Jiggs died on September 14, 1925, he was called “Brooklyn’s fattest dog” in his “obituary” in The Brooklyn Standard Union. You see, Jiggs had a bad habit of making the daily rounds at the Brooklyn Borough Hall restaurants, and when he died, he tipped the scales at 121 pounds.

It wasn’t his weight, though, that killed him. Jiggs was “humanely dispatched” by the Brooklyn SPCA because he had reportedly become a grumpy old man in his final year of retirement.

A St. Patrick’s Day Puppy

Jiggs was born on March 17, 1917, and presented to Engine Company 205 in Brooklyn Heights on Memorial Day of that year. Right away, he bonded with 39-year-old Engineer Thomas J. “Smoke” McEwan. Over the years, he rarely left his side.

Thomas J. McEwan
Brooklyn Engine Company 205
Although Jiggs would answer to any man in uniform who gave him orders, he would only follow Smoke McEwan. The two were inseparable. If you saw Jiggs anywhere downtown, you could bet Smoke wasn’t far away.

Jiggs also took a liking to Bum and her kittens. Bum was a Brooklyn aristocrat and the long-time mascot cat of Engine Company 205. Her mother had been found cold and starving on the street near the firehouse on Pierrepont Street in 1909. Bum and all her siblings stayed in the neighborhood, but only Bum was lucky enough to get a permanent home at the fire station.

Jiggs was quite hyperactive in his youth, and would bark and jump around like crazy whenever the gong rang for a fire. Bath time was also a struggle for Smoke and fireman Frank Wolf, but somehow they managed to bathe Jiggs four times a week.

Sometimes young Jiggs would get a little too friendly or too ambitious. Once he tried to make friends with one of the horses and got booted through a rear window. Another time he broke his leg while trying to slide down the pole.

Steam Engine Company No. 5, Brooklyn Heights
Later, Brooklyn Engine Company 205
Engine 205 was Brooklyn’s oldest, most famous, and most influential fire company. It was organized as Steam Engine Company No. 5 on September 15, 1869, by young, upstanding men from wealthy families of downtown Brooklyn. The company’s first firehouse was located at 160 Pierrepont Street.

Jiggs Meets Chef Martin

During those first few years as a fire buff, Jiggs never weighed more than 71 pounds. He was fast with the horses and always present on every call, no matter the size of the fire or incident. In his first five years of service, he reportedly responded to more than 10,000 fire calls.

But then he struck up a friendship with John Martin, a chef in Joe’s Restaurant at the corner of Fulton and Pierrepont streets. John couldn’t help but give the dog a few treats every day, and with a menu that listed over 400 food choices, there was plenty to go around for Jiggs.

Joe's Restaurant Fulton Avenue Brooklyn
Joseph Balzarini and Joseph Sartori, both Italian immigrants, opened Joe’s Restaurant in 1909. Located just around the corner from Brooklyn’s insurance, political, and financial hub, it was the place to go for politicians and brokers as well as families and fire dogs. The building was demolished in 1959; today this is the site of 1 Pierrepont Plaza, the 2016 presidential campaign headquarters for Hilary Clinton.

After meeting John Martin, Jiggs discovered other friendly chefs at nearby restaurants. Chefs encouraged the dog to eat and often bragged about the fact that the famous fire dog preferred his restaurant kitchen to another.

Jiggs with Fireman William McGill in 2922.
Jiggs with Fireman William McGill in 2922.

No Diet and No Exercise

Fire dogs are tough but they have three enemies: accidents, colds and overweight. The last is the worst. Now that the days of running to fires with the horses are gone they need to watch their figures, and they have too many kind friends. — New York Sun, December 7, 1940

Clarendon Hotel, Brooklyn
Another of Jigg’s favorites was the Clarendon Grill at the Clarendon Hotel, at 284 Washington Street (now Cadman Plaza East). This 1890 hotel, designed by Brooklyn architect J.G. Glover, replaced the first Clarendon, which was damaged in the deadly Brooklyn Theater fire of 1876. The Clarendon, the old Brooklyn Eagle building, and other buildings were torn down in the 1950s to make way for Cadman Plaza.

Jiggs couldn’t have become a canine epicurean at the worst time in the history of the New York Fire Department. Only 11 years before, Commissioner Rhinelander Waldo proposed motor-driven fire apparatus for the FDNY.

One by one, each company replaced its horses with motorized apparatus. Brooklyn’s Engine 205 was the last to relinquish its horses in 1922.

With the horses gone, Jiggs could no longer get his daily exercise. Refusing to be pensioned off and sent to a retirement farm, Jiggs tried running with the motorized apparatus a few times, but it nearly killed him. An overweight Dalmatian was no match for a motorized engine that could go 30 to 40 miles an hour.

Engine Company 205 Brooklyn
On the morning of December 20, 1922, Fire Commissioner Thomas J. Drennan, Brooklyn Borough President Edward Riegelmann, firefighters, city dignitaries, and Jiggs gathered in back of Brooklyn Borough Hall to pay their final tribute to the last fire horses of Engine 205.

By 1923, Jiggs weighed 118 pounds. Twice the firemen sent him to an exclusive farm for canine reduction treatments, but both times he made his way back to Pierrepont Street. Then on October 12, 1923, Jiggs was taken to the Ellin Prince Speyer Free Hospital for Animals at 350 Lafayette Street in Manhattan to be treated for painful swelling in his right paw, which turned out to be gout.

Jiggs was reportedly put on a strict diet and did lose some weight over the next two months. But before long, when Smoke McEwan wasn’t watching him very carefully, Jiggs got back into his bad ways and was soon as heavy as ever.

By the summer of 1925, Jiggs was reportedly “fatter and lazier than ever.” He spent his days laying outside the firehouse sunning himself, and, as the firemen said, never partook in “any feminine activities such as dieting to reduce.” Captain Leon Howard told the press that the men never fed Jiggs – he fed himself – and that the fatter he got, the more he found to eat.

Jigg, coach dog of Engine Company. 205
Jiggs howled in sorrow as his horse friends were bid farewell as Smoke McEwan tried to console him.

In July 1925, Engine Company 205 was relocated to 274 Hicks Street. For Jiggs, Hicks Street was a long way from Borough Hall and all his favorite restaurants. Unable to adjust to the change, what Smoke once called “the best natured dog in the world” soon grew remorse and ill tempered.

That month, Jiggs nipped at a passerby who had reportedly kicked him in the paw. The man, 38-year-old Alexander Kyle of 78 Kingston Avenue, was treated at Long Island Hospital for a bite on the right leg. Jiggs was transferred to the pound in a wagon donated by the Brooklyn Standard Union (the distance was too great for him to walk), were he was detained for 10 days as authorities confirmed that he didn’t have rabies.

Upon his release from the pound, Jiggs was issued a silver-plated muzzle and a dog license. Fire Commissioner Thomas J. Drennan told Captain Howard, “Put him back on active duty. He will neither be fined nor his pay deducted. Jiggs is one of the best dogs in the history of the Fire Department.”

Apparently Jiggs didn’t wear the muzzle, because two months later, the men of Engine Company 205 had to call in the SPCA to “dispatch” their fire dog. He was reportedly snapping at many people, including children, and was a danger to the public. Sadly, Smoke was on vacation at the time, and the men were not able to locate him before Jiggs was put to death.

274 Hicks Street, Brooklyn
Jiggs was not a happy dog when Engine Company 205 was relocated to 274 Hicks Street in 1925. Today this 1903 landmark building is home to Engine Company 224.

When Jiggs died in 1925, the old Engine Company 205 firehouse on Pierrepont Street died too. For some time, the 1869 building was used as a “parking space” for the mounted police, who would drop their horses off there when they went downtown for lunch or dinner. In the 1940s and 50s, the building served as the headquarters for the Kings County American Legion. Today, there’s a large office building on the site which houses Brooklyn’s Social Security Office.

These days, Engine 205 and Ladder 118 make their home at 74 Middagh Sreet. On September 11, 2001, both companies rushed over the Brooklyn Bridge to get to the World Trade Center. The men of Engine 205 arrived first, but most of their lives were spared when they had to carry the body of a fallen firefighter from another company to an ambulance a block away, out of the immediate danger zone. Sadly, Lt. Robert Walsh and Captain Martin Egan Jr. were also killed.

Lt. Robert Regan, Lt. Joe Agnello, and firefighters Leon Smith, Vernon Cherry, Scott Davidson, and Peter Vega of Ladder 118 were last seen running up the stairs of the Marriott World Trade Center Hotel to help the panicked guests. All six men were killed while trying to save others.

Ladder 118 9/11
Ladder 118 lost six men on 9/11. Lt. Robert Wallace and Capt. Martin Egan, who used to work in the Middagh Street house but were detailed elsewhere that day, were also killed in the terrorist attacks.

Here is the photograph that captured Ladder 118 speeding across the Brooklyn Bridge toward the flaming towers. I have a feeling that if this photo had been taken 80 years earlier, we’d see a horse-drawn ladder truck with a Dalmatian named Jiggs running alongside.