Whence came the elephant? Who knows
The world is dark,
“Dropped from the moon,” some folks suppose
You laugh, but there’s a spark
Of evidence that partly shows
He came not from the Ark;
For, on his flank – the mystery grows—
Is branded “Luna Park.”
— J.A. Tralee, Ireland (published in the Brooklyn Daily Eagle, June 6, 1904)

The Elephant swims to Staten Island
Did Alice the elephant really swim to Staten Island, or was she part of a giant publicity stunt?

On Friday morning, June 2, 1904, the proprietors of Coney Island’s Luna Park reported that three of their elephants were missing. The two male elephants were found shortly thereafter, but the female elephant, Alice — or Fanny (reports vary) — was nowhere to be found. Alice had gone AWOL.

The proprietors, Frederick Thompson and Elmer “Skip” Dundy, posted a notice in the Brooklyn Daily Eagle offering $100 for any information or for the return of the female elephant. An alarm was also sent out to local police stations when the park employees discovered that she was lost.

According to published reports, the three elephants were part of the park’s Great Durbar of India attraction, in which hundreds of natives of India and Sri Lanka dressed in colorful costumes and rode through the streets on elephants, horses, and camels. Due to bad weather, the show had been cancelled the night before, and the handlers were careless in securing the three elephants.

The great durbar of India in the streets of the Delhi-Luna Park, New York. (1904)
Luna Park at Coney Island was a precursor to Epcot at Disney World, with numerous multicultural attractions including the streets of Cairo, an Eskimo village, an island in the Philippines, a Japanese garden, and the canals of Venice. The Great Durbar of India was part of the Streets of Delhi attraction. New York Public Library Digital Collections

Sometime during the night, the elephants escaped through the rear door of the barn that led to Neptune Avenue and ambled down to Coney Island Creek. Once in the Lower Bay, the two males turned left and swam toward Long Island (Queens); Alice headed for Staten Island. The males didn’t get very far and were captured early Friday morning. Alice kept going.

If we are to believe the fishermen who watched Alice swim ashore at New Dorp Beach in Staten Island, then Alice swam about 5 miles across the Narrows from Coney Island.

New Dorp Beach Map, 1907
In the early 1900s, New Dorp Beach on Staten Island was a mecca for fishermen and other pleasure seekers who visited the island to enjoy the sun and surf. The beach had several picnic areas and hotels, including Ed Hett’s New Dorp Beach Hotel.

One of the fishermen, Frank Krissler, of 124 Ogden Avenue, Jersey City, reported that he and his friend had been fishing from their small rowboat about a mile off shore when they heard an unearthly sound and their boat began to roll. It was quite foggy, so they couldn’t see well, but they could tell something very large was headed their way. Soon a huge form appeared off the portside – it appeared to have a giant funnel from which water was spraying up into the air.

“Rhinoceros!” Krissler screamed. “Whale!” his friend cried. The men quickly turned the boat around and started to row as fast as possible toward shore. The elephant followed in hot pursuit.

When they arrived back on shore near Ed Hett’s New Dorp Beach Hotel, the elephant lumbered out of the water and followed them up the beach.

New Dorp Beach Hotel
The New Dorp Beach Hotel property was owned by Edward Hett, inventor of the multicolor printing press. The original three-story hotel, built around 1897, was destroyed in a fire in 1902. Hett built a new concrete hotel, which was sold to A. Munger in 1913, just two years before Hett’s death. The property also included a steamboat pier, an acre of dancing pavilions, field dining rooms, bowling alleys, and another large frame hotel on Cedar Grove Avenue. NYPL Collections.

Soon two more fishermen and Patrolman O’Rourke from the New Dorp police force arrived, and the men used ropes to create a lasso. They swung the lasso around the elephant’s tusks and led her toward the carriage shed behind Adolf Eberle’s Speedway Inn in Grant City, where Patrolman O’Rourke knew he could keep her until the police decided what to do with the elephant.

During the long walk to Grant City, Alice reportedly stopped in front of a grocery store to eat a wagon-load of vegetables and take a few gulps from a horse trough. When the group reached the Speedway Inn at Southfield Boulevard and Franklin Avenue (today’s Hyland Boulevard and Bedford Avenue), Alice reportedly pulled up a couple of trees in the yard and yanked a few planks from the porch before entering the carriage shed.

Speedway Inn Staten Island
The Speedway Inn (top right in this 1907 map) was a hangout for those who enjoyed the new sport of automobile racing. Today, the site is occupied by a gas station and an oil change business.

Later that day, more police arrived and Alice was taken to the horse stables of the mounted police on New Dorp Lane and 8th Street. There, she was “charged” with vagrancy.

Hundreds of people gathered in front of the green-terraced station to see the very large prisoner. It was the biggest catch the police of New Dorp had ever made, and as one officer said, “Press agent or no press agent, we got him, and we are going to keep him till a bondsman shows up.”

The officer was making reference to the popular belief that Alice was part of a publicity stunt orchestrated by an over-imaginative press agent for Luna Park. (In fact, two years later, a reporter for Success Magazine claimed that Fred Thompson hired a furniture van to cart the elephant through Brooklyn, across the Brooklyn Bridge, through downtown Manhattan, and then on the ferry to Staten Island. Once near shore, Alice was released into the water.)

A Brief History of the New Dorp Mounted Police

1590 Richmond Terrace, Staten Island
In 1887, the Richmond County Police Squad headquarters (Station 1) was on Bay Street in Edgewater. The city also leased a building at 1590 Richmond Terrace (Station 2, later the 65th Precinct), shown here in this Google street view. This 1871 building was also used for the YMCA from 1871 to 1886, and today is home to Lennie Construction Corp.

When Alice made her grand appearance on Staten Island, the borough’s mounted police force was fairly young – seven years young, to be exact. It’s no wonder Alice the elephant was the biggest and most exciting event the police had ever experienced.

In 1867, legislation placed Staten Island within the jurisdiction of the Metropolitan Police Department of New York City. Three years later, another law was enacted that made Staten Island a separate police district under the control of three commissioners. William C. Denyse of Middletown, Abram C. Wood of Castleton, and Garret P. Wright of Northfield were appointed to the Board of Police Commissioners, with Wood elected president.

Staten Island Police
In 1867, a small force of men was enlisted and detailed for patrolling Staten Island (Borough of Richmond).

The incorporated villages put in their requests for police officers as follows: Port Richmond, 7; New Brighton, 7; Edgewater, 14; Tottenville, 2. A police station was established opposite Veterans Park in Port Richmond, in one of the many buildings on Staten Island owned by former Chief Engineer John Decker of the old volunteer fire department of New York City.

In 1883, the department attempted to establish a mounted unit. Much to the public’s dismay, the men were not accustomed to the saddle and the experiment failed. Two years later, however, the Richmond County Board of Supervisors approved the Board of Police Commissioners’ request for an appropriation of $6,000 to supply horses for a mounted squad to patrol the country districts.

80th Precinct Mounted Police
The mounted police squad of Staten Island was originally housed in a farmhouse at Rockland Avenue and Forest Hill Road in a sparsely settled portion of New Springville. It later became a substation of the 80th Precinct and moved to New Dorp Lane and 8th Street.

The squad had 10 men, including patrolmen John Moore and George Wilson and eight other men who had just been appointed to the force. The men were fitted in a cavalry uniform and drilled by Sergeant Thomas Higgins of the Sixth United States Calvary. Twelve horses were purchased and named after the governors of New York: Morton, Flower, Hill, Cleveland, Cornell, Robinson, Tilden, Dix, Hoffman, Fenton, Seymour, and Morgan.

Alice Goes Home

Many hours after Alice arrived at the police stables, Pete Barlow (aka the Coney Island Elephant Man) and two men from the India attraction at Luna Park showed up and convinced the police that Alice was one of six elephants from Luna Park. They paid a large fine and lead the elephant away down the Boulevard toward the St. George Ferry landing.

After walking about six miles, the group met up with a large horse-drawn wagon that had been summoned from Sheepshead Bay in Brooklyn. Using hay and apples to lure her, Barlow led Alice into the wagon, which then proceeded to the ferry. Upon arrival in Manhattan, the wagon took Alice down South Street and to the Brooklyn-bound ferry. Once in Brooklyn, the group made of the rest of trip by foot and hoof back to Coney Island.

Gunda Indian elephant
Alice was brought to the Zoological Park in the Bronx (Bronx Zoo) in 1908 to be a mate for Gunda, shown here on the left. Years later, Gunda went mad from his captivity, tried to kill his keeper, Walter Thuman, and had to be executed.

With Alice safely back at Luna Park, Frenk Kissler the fisherman told the press he was going to collect the $100 reward that was due him.

Incidentally, four years later Alice made the news again, this time when she went on a rampage at the Bronx Park Zoo and “locked” herself in the Reptile House. She had been given to the zoo in 1908 to be a mate for Gunda, the zoo’s first Indian elephant, and it was hoped that some baby elephants would keep her busy and distract her from trying to escape.

 

“We had tried policemen on bicycles, motorcycles and even automobiles to run down plunderers, but had poor results until we got the dogs.”—Long Island Railroad Police Superintendent Robert E. Kirkham

America’s Safe-Blowing Belt

The dog detectives of the LIRR police force

The dog detectives of the LIRR police force pose for the Brooklyn Daily Eagle in July 1911.

In the 1800s and early 1900s, the wide open territory along the tracks of the Long Island Railroad was like something out of the Wild West. Train station and post office burglaries were a fairly common occurrence, as were gun fights and murders. Bandits would also try to rob people on the trains by laying rail ties or boulders across the tracks in hopes of causing a train wreck.

In their efforts to capture these “yeggmen,” several railroad patrolmen were killed and others were severely injured. Some good dog detectives were desperately needed.

Sheba's Bob LIRR Dog

Sheba’s Bob was a large bloodhound with heavy ears that nearly reached the ground and a nose that always worked overtime. When standing on his hind legs, he was as tall as the average man. He and the other dog detectives were handled by Lieutenant Ferdinand Miller of the LIRR police force.

For 200 years after the arrival of the Dutch settlers in Manhattan, most of Long Island remained unchartered woodlands, although large farms did begin springing up in the 18th and 19th centuries.

It wasn’t until the railroad started laying tracks in the late 1830s that small villages like Hicksville, Farmingdale, and Deer Park began to form (the names of these villages say it all). A typical village in those days consisted of a train station, post office, general store, a few dozen residences, and perhaps a hotel.

In 1908, a record number of post office burglaries were reported in villages along the tracks from Queens to Nassau County. For some reason, the Mineola post office was a favorite, and it became known as “America’s safe-blowing belt.” Numerous private residences were also burglarized during this time.

At each midnight break-in, the modus operandi was to blow the safes open using nitro-glycerin. The yeggmen would then escape by automobiles or teams of fast horses.

Although the burglars often used bags of chicken feed to muffle the sounds, the noise they created was still quite loud. However, villagers became so accustomed to the explosions that they’d simply ignore it and say, “It’s only the post office being blown up again.”

LIRR Police Force

The LIRR had its own police department as far back as 1868. When Robert E. Kirkham, chief clerk in the office the president of Long Island City, was appointed to Superintendent in 1905, the plan was to create a force of 200 men to patrol the terminal stations and freight yards, and to give special attention to those stations that operated by electricity. The special force merged with the Metro-North Railroad Police to form the Metropolitan Transportation Authority Police (MTA Police) in 1998.

In addition to Secret Service agents attached to the U.S. Post Office Department, the men of the Long Island Railroad police force would often assist the local authorities in trying to apprehend the thieves. The LIRR equipped its police force with motorcycles and employed several expert bicyclists to help run the bandits down, but the crimes continued. It was time to call in the dog detectives.

Who Let the Dogs Out?

Recalling the good results that German, French, and Belgian municipalities had with highly trained police dogs — and maybe he had even heard about the hero police dogs in Parkville, Brooklyn — Superintendent Robert E. Kirkham of the LIRR police force purchased two English bloodhounds from Vermont named Bob and Nellie. Nellie soon had six pups (one died), and the whole pack was trained for service.

Within just a few years, the dog detectives trailed and brought to justice more than 100 criminals.

Valley Stream freight house

The Valley Stream freight house (top left) as it appeared in 1932.

On November 30, 1910, several grocery items and other goods were stolen from the LIRR freight house at Valley Stream. Robert Smith, the station attendant, discovered the break-in at 7:30 a.m. and notified gateman Robert Earle. The two men called for assistance from Sheba’s Bob, the ace dog detective of the LIRR detective bureau.

When Sheba’s Bob and his brother Jim arrived on the scene, Lt. Miller led them to the freight house, which had been pried open with a crowbar. The dogs picked up the burglar’s scent and tore off in a flash. Bob made for the underbrush at the rear of the station and started circling a pile of sand. Scattered about the spot were one or two parcels that apparently had been of no value to the thief.

Bob and Jim LIRR dog detectives

The old blacksmith shop where Bob and Jim tracked down the burglar. The illustration shows how Bob ran from the shed and up the stairs on the side of the building.

The dogs then moved back to the tracks and started to run with their noses to the ground. They dragged Lieutenant Miller down the tracks, jumped over a barbed wire fence, and ran up an embankment toward the pumping station at Watt’s Pond. The dogs then headed into the woods, dragging their handler along.

An hour after taking to the trail, the dog detectives exited the woods near Merrick Road. About 100 yards away was Joseph Berkley’s barn, which contained a blacksmith shop and living quarters that he rented. There was a tool shed in back, where a man was skinning a muskrat. Bob was the first to jump on the man, Frederick Reising.

Gristmill at Watt's Pond

The bloodhounds’ noses led them to the Clear Stream Pumping Station at Watt’s Pond, which was erected in 1881 on land previously occupied by the Wright family grist mill (shown here). Today this land is the Edward W. Cahill Memorial Park (formerly Mill Pond Park). Brooklyn Museum/Brooklyn Public Library, Brooklyn Collection

“Take him away!” the man yelled. Lt. Miller called his dogs back and shackled the thief. Next, Bob darted for the barn and ran up the stairs on the side of the building. He ran through the kitchen and down the hall, and started to howl at a trunk in the bedroom.

Inside the trunk was everything that had been stolen from the freight house. With some help from Bob, Lt. Miller also found a crowbar hidden behind some boxes.

Following the arrest of Frederick Reising, police found other items in the barn where he was hiding, including about 40 bicycles (one of them rigged as a getaway bike), silver, and glassware. In a private residence nearby, detectives also found several gold and silver watches, other articles of jewelry, and dynamite.

LIRR Central Avenue

In 1911, when Bob and Jim were hot on the trail of the freight house burglar, most of the land between Watts Pond and Merrick Road was woodlands and farms. The area was still fairly rustic in 1922, when this photo from the railroad tracks looking west down Central Avenue in Valley Stream was taken.

 

It was believed that Reising was involved in a gang of burglars that had been operating along the South Side rail tracks, stealing from freight houses and stores.

The Good Deeds of the Dog Detectives

In February 1911, several attempts were made to wreck the Wading River express train, also known as the “Gaynor Special.” New York’s “Tammany Hall” Mayor William Jay Gaynor – the only mayor to be hit by a bullet during an assassination attempt — always used this train to travel to his country home in St. James on Saturdays.

Wading River Station LIRR

The 1895 Wading River station was demolished in 1938. The Wading River extension was abandoned March 20, 1939.

 

 

The bloodhounds were brought in to track the criminal’s trail, which led to the arrest of a man in Long Island City.

Another celebrated case occurred in August 1911, when the three-year-old daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Fritz Webber of Northport went missing. The Webbers had left the girl unattended at Fort Salonga Beach for a half hour as they took a walk in the sand. When they got back, she was gone (big surprise).

Neighbors formed a search party, but after 27 hours the LIRR police were finally asked to bring their bloodhounds to the beach. The dogs sniffed her shoes and stockings, and four hours later they tracked the child to a spot five miles away. The little girl was fast asleep on the grass, only four feet from the edge of a deep creek.

As for the man who dared try to steal from the railroad, one month after his arrest, Frederick Reising was convicted of burglary and sentenced to prison. It took the jury only five minutes to find him guilty. It was his word against Bob’s word, and Reising had no chance against the ace dog detective of the Long Island Railroad.

Sheba's Bob and Jim, the ace dog detectives of the LIRR.

Sheba’s Bob and Jim, the ace dog detectives of the LIRR.

Charging bulls of Carmansville
The flimsy fencing around the cattle pens at the Manhattanville train station could not hold back a determined bull.

The Running of the Bulls is a practice that involves voluntarily running in front of a small group of cattle that has been let loose on a fenced-off part of the town’s streets. The most famous running of the bulls takes place during the eight-day festival of Sanfermines in Pamplona, Spain. For residents of New York City’s Manhattanville, Washington Heights, and Carmansville, running of the bulls was almost a weekly occurrence in the 1800s.

But for these poor folks, participation was not voluntary.

Where in the World Is Carmansville?

Named after its founder, Richard Francis Carman, Carmansville was a small 19th-century village that encompassed the land between Broadway and the Hudson River from 145th to 158th streets. Today we call this area Hamilton Heights.

Carmansville, New York
This 1875 map shows the little hamlet of Carmansville from about 145th to 158th Street.

Born in New York in 1801, Richard Carman was a wealthy contractor who learned carpentry and construction while making packing boxes for merchants. Following the Great Fire of December 1835, in which about 600 buildings were destroyed in lower Manhattan, he won numerous building contracts and began using his new wealth to deal in speculative real estate investing.

On October 1, 1841, Carman purchased a portion of the former John Watkins – John Maunsell farm from the New York Bowery Fire Insurance Company at a foreclosure auction. He absorbed this land, which encompassed from 152nd to 158th Street, into Carmansville, a small working-class village he was already developing between 152nd Street and 155th Street. A year later, while serving as a New York City Alderman, he sold 24 acres of this land to Trinity Church for a cemetery (the only active burial ground in Manhattan today).

Minnie's Land, Audubon House
On the same day Carman purchased his acreage, John James Audubon, the renowned ornithologist and painter, bought an adjacent 14 acres of woodlands for his own estate (located at present-day 156th Street and Riverside Drive). He called it Minnie’s Land in honor of his wife, Lucy Bakewell (Minnie was a Scottish endearment for “mother”). The property was originally a working farm with gardens, orchards, and livestock. It featured a stream just about where 157th Street is now, rocky outcroppings, and dense woodlands of oak, elm, and hemlocks. After Audubon’s death in 1851, Lucy and her sons, Victor and John, built and rented about 10 houses on their property. Residents called the neighborhood Audubon Park.

Over the years, the small village of Carmansville built up around the train station for the Hudson River Railway at the foot of 152nd Street. By the 1860s, Carmansville had become a destination for picnickers and other pleasure seekers who would spend the afternoon fishing or catching crabs.

Carmansville 1885
Tracks for the Hudson River Railway at Carmansville in 1885. Carmansville was the first northbound stop on the railway. Museum of the City of New York Collections.

In addition to the railroad station, cemetery, and several churches, the village had a police station (the former 32nd Precinct Mounted Police station house at Amsterdam Avenue and 152nd Street), blacksmith, butcher, and grocer, as well as some modest frame houses and estates. In the 1880s, other businesses sprang up in and around Carmansville, including Major George W. Sauer’s Atalanta Casino and roller skating rink on 8th Avenue and 155th Street.

The Charging of the Bulls

Back to the bulls.

In the 1800s, cattle stampedes were almost a weekly occurrence, especially on Sundays. The steer would scour the boulevards, avenues, and streets, and then charge through the crowds of people going to and returning from church.

Carmansville 1885
A typical street in Carmansville, looking west toward the Hudson River. If you look closely, you can see two goats. Museum of the City of New York Collections

On a typical Sunday, two or more steers would appear on the street, break into a trot, and then full-out charge into the crowd, scattering people in all directions. Neatly dressed women would throw aside their Sabbath decorum and make for the nearest cover at a racing pace. Shawls, hats, and other articles would go flying, no doubt contributing to the animals’ agitation.

The gentlemen, forgetting all gallantry, would perform surprising stunts of agility to avoid harm’s way. The cattle would eventually head into the woods, and few people were actually harmed.

The cattle often escaped after existing the cattle trains on the Hudson River Railroad.
The cattle often escaped after existing the cattle trains on the Hudson River Railroad.

The cattle were escapees from the cattle trains on the Hudson River Railroad. These trains often had as many as 100 cars, each containing 16 heads of cattle.

When the trains arrived at the Manhattanville passenger and freight station at 130th Street, the cows were driven into insecure pens by careless drivers. The fencing around the enclosure was composed of decayed boards, which allowed ambitious bulls to escape.

The Church of the Intercession

One of the main churches in Carmansville was the Church of the Intercession, an Episcopal church that held its first services in the parlor of New York merchant John Rowland Morewood’s home in 1846. In 1847, Richard Carman offered the church its first home in a small frame building opposite Trinity Cemetery at the corner of West 154th Street and Tenth Avenue (Amsterdam Avenue).

Church of the Intercession
This small frame building (center) on West 154th Street served as Carmansville’s first Episcopal church from 1847 to 1872. The building to the right is still standing. Museum of the City of New York Collections.
Church of the Intercession
Carmansville
In 1874, when this story takes place, some of the residents of Carmansville would have attended this new Church of the Intercession, which was constructed in 1872 at the corner of 158th Street and Grand Boulevard (now Broadway). In 1906, this building was turned over to the Trinity Church Corporation for use as a Trinity chapel.
429 West 154th Street.
Today you can still see the outline of the old frame church (brown lines) on the side of 429 West 154th St.

Bulls Gone Wild at Audubon Park

The bulls did not limit their stampedes to the main avenues of Carmansville. One time, a herd of about 30 cattle dashed up the train tracks from Manhattanville, turned to the right, and galloped through Audubon Park, destroying everything in their path. One bull broke from the pack and ran toward the river. He jumped into a rowboat moored at the pier, fell into the river, and started swimming across the Hudson River.

The bull reached about halfway across the river but turned around and was eventually lassoed by one of the drovers. Another bull swam across the river to the Jersey shore. It wasn’t until the following evening that the entire herd was captured by police and a group of citizens.

Audubon Park, 1891
The bulls charged through Audubon Park and destroyed the property of several homes, like this one photographed in 1891.

Following a rash of stampedes, Cornelius “Commodore” Vanderbilt told the public that the stampedes would come to end when the new cattle yards of his New York Central and Hudson River Railroad were completed. The cattle yards, which occupied 60th to 65th Street between 11th Avenue to the North River, opened in January 1875.

Broadway north from 157th St., New York.
In this 1910 photograph of Broadway and 157th Street, we can see the Church of the Intercession (minus the steeple) and some horses. With the new stock yards, residents no longer had to worry about charging bulls. New York Public Library Digital Collections

The Passing of Richard and Mary

“Mr. Carman dispensed his wealth liberally, and his ear was ever open to the appeals of the needy and friendless.”–The New York Times, July 14, 1867

Two years after Richard Carman served as a pall-bearer for his famous Washington Heights neighbor, Madame Eliza Jumel, his wife, Mary Baker Carman, passed away. One month later, in July 1867, Richard died and was laid to rest in Trinity Church Cemetery. His holdings were divided into 257 lots that were subsequently subdivided into smaller land holdings, leading to the development of the residential neighborhood we know today.

Audubon House
The Audubon house, pictured here in 1917, was torn down in 1931. All efforts to preserve the home failed due to the Great Depression. Today the site is occupied by the 1932 apartment building at 765 Riverside Drive.

If you enjoyed this tale, you may be interested in reading about the Staten Island cows that went wild at the Pavonia Ferry Terminal.

In Scene VII of The Garden of Paradise by Edward Sheldon, the Queen of the South asks her page to fetch her kitten, Pandora, from the garden. In this cameo role, the kitten is carried on stage, placed on a thrown, and almost stepped on as the Queen tries to escape from a planned marriage to the King of the Blue Mountains. The kitten was played by Bendola Bailey of Brooklyn.

Wawayanda Starlight
Bendola was the offspring of Clara N. Bailey’s prize-winning Wawayanda Starlight, born in 1911. The name of this cat may have been inspired by the Wawayanda House, a hotel in Warwick, New York, where Clara once spent a few weeks.

When The Garden of Paradise was produced at the Park Theatre in New York City in 1914, it was the job of property man William J. Moore to find the perfect cat for this elaborate theatrical production. The producer wanted a cat “that looked Oriental and would indicate opulence and grandeur.”

William Moore found just the cat he was looking for on a second-floor roof garden at 88 Joralemon Street in Brooklyn. Her name was Bendola Bailey, and she was beautiful show cat.

Bendola Bailey was owned by Mrs. Clara N. Bailey, an up-and-coming cat fancier whose numerous prize-winning smokes and blues were stealing the headlines at the New York cat shows.

Actress Renee Kelly starred with the cat Bendola Bailey
British actress Renee Kelly played the role of the Queen of the South in Edward Sheldon’s The Garden of Paradise at the Park Theatre in 1914.

Bendola was the offspring of Wawayanda Starlight, a long-haired blue male with orange eyes, and White Rose of Persia, a white Angora with blue eyes. Critics gave Bendola Bailey rave reviews and called her one of the show’s leading features.

Clara V. Nungasser Bailey was the daughter of Emma Gertrude Robertson and William M. Nungasser, a well-known church choir singer and coal merchant in Brooklyn who owned a coal yard on the Gowanus Canal at Third Street.

She grew up on in the Cobble Hill neighborhood of Brooklyn and attended Public School No. 6 (the Warren-Baltic Street School) through the sixth grade. She graduated from School No. 78 in 1896.

When Clara was 23 and still single, she spent a few weeks in July at the Demarest House hotel in Warwick, New York. Then, according to census reports, sometime between 1910 and 1915 she married and was soon widowed. Oddly, there are many published reports about her family and yet nothing appears to be published about her marriage or her husband’s death.

Park Theatre Columbus Circle
The Park Theatre (1911) originally opened as the Majestic Theatre in 1903 at 5 Columbus Circle. In 1922, when this photo was taken, it was Minsky’s Park Music Hall, and shortly thereafter, William Randolph Hearst’s Cosmopolitan Theater. NBC leased the building for a TV studio for a short time in the early 1950s, but it was torn down in 1954 to allow for wider sidewalks in front of the New York Coliseum.

The House at 88 Joralemon Street

The Nungassers moved into 88 Joralemon Street in 1903, just in time to experience all the noise and jarring vibrations from the ongoing construction of the Joralemon Street Tunnel. They no doubt learned about the home from the previous tenants, Mr. and Mrs. Harry Rowe Shelley. Harry Rowe Shelley was a composer and church organist who probably knew William Nungasser from the Brooklyn choir circuit.

88 Joralemon Street Brooklyn
Home of Clara Bailey
88 Joralemon Street, located near the corner of Garden Place, was built in 1834 on land once occupied by the manor home of Philip Livingston, aka, Livingston Manor. The home’s gardens were once said to be among the most beautiful in America.

The home was owned by the estate of Albert T. Wells, and for many years had been occupied by attorney Oliver Jaggar Wells and his wife Josephine. The home turned over to the Shelleys in 1893 when the Wells moved into a suite at the Waldorf-Astoria in Manhattan.

With no job or husband, Clara dedicated her life to her prize-winning cats. She turned the top floor of her parents’ home into the Delft Cattery, where sometimes up to 25 of the finest show cats could be found in between shows.

Some of her blue-ribbon cats included Shamrock, Little Miss Muffet, Smokey Topaz, and Little Nobody, the latter a “gutter cat” that she found in the street on a wet, wintry day. She participated in many New York cat shows as both a cat owner and judge, and in 1919 she served as vice president of the Cat Fanciers’ Association.

86 and 88 Joralemon Street, Brooklyn
Home of Clara and Bendola Bailey
Clara N. Bailey’s cats had access to a third-floor roof garden that extended from the home on Joralemon Street, shown here in this 2015 image from Google.

A Brief History of Joralemon Street

Once called Remsen’s Lane or Livingstone’s Lane, this street was established by Hendrick and Peter Remsen and Philip Livingston in 1764 as a common way between their respective farms “from the highway and to the river.”

Philip Livingston Estate, Brooklyn Heights
General Washington and his officers met at Livingston’s country estate in Brooklyn Heights after their defeat in the battle of Long Island, and there, decided to evacuate the island. The British subsequently used the residence as a Royal Navy hospital.

Philip Livingston, who served as president of the New York Assembly in 1768 and was a signer of the Declaration of Independence, built his manor house near the corner of present-day Hicks Street and Joralemon Street after purchasing about 40 acres of land from the Remsens. The house served as his farm and country estate until his death in 1778.

In 1803, Teunis Joralemon, a harness and saddlemaker from Flatbush, purchased a large portion of the former Livingston estate. Two years later, despite all his objections, the former farm lane was named after him.

Teunis Joralemon

Teunis died in 1840 and the manor, which was about to be taken down (even the marble chimney pieces had been packed up for removal), burned down in 1842.

After both her parents died at their home in Ocean Grove, New Jersey, Clara Bailey continued to live at 13 Ocean Pathway with a lodger, Charlotte Cubberly.

For several years, she managed the Ocean Grove Antique Shop at 35 Central Avenue. Her name last appears in the Ocean Grove Times in 1957, when she was reportedly severely injured in a fall at her home.

13 Ocean Pathway, Ocean Grove
Home of Clara Bailey
Clara’s house at 13 Ocean Pathway, shown on the left, was built in 1876 and on what National Geographic once called “The prettiest short street in America.”

If you enjoyed this theatrical cat tale, you might enjoy reading about the feline silent film stars of Richmond Hill, Queens.

Alligator

In July 1896, Victor D. Levitt, the manager of the Bostock-Ferrari Midway Carnival Company, received an alligator that hailed from the St. Sebastian River in Florida. Victor considered the gift to be a bad luck sign, as the large alligator had been bruised in a train wreck on its way to New York.

Victor decided to give the alligator to Acting Police Captain Lawson of the Coney Island Police station as a sign of his gratitude for Lawson’s upstanding service since taking over the corrupt police force started by Gravesend Supervisor John McKane.

Not wanting to appear ungrateful, Captain Lawson accepted the alligator graciously. He then chained the alligator to the lawn of the station house on West 8th Street, where it drew large crowds. Thinking that this activity was in violation of the penal code (not to mention dangerous!), he convinced Captain Paul Boyton that he needed an alligator at his new Sea Lion Park (because alligators and sea lions get along so well.)

John Y. McKane
Gravesend Town Supervisor and Sunday school teacher John McKane fortified his control over corruption and vice by creating a Coney Island police force in 1881 and appointing himself chief. Many of the “policemen” that he commanded from his shack in the sand were ex-cons who often robbed the people who sought their help.

Captain Paul Boyton

Born in Ireland in 1848, Paul Boyton took to the sea at a young age. He reportedly joined the U.S. Navy when he was 15 to fight for the Union side during the Civil War.

He also helped organize the United States Life-Saving Service (USLSS) and served as captain of the USLSS station in Atlantic City, New Jersey.

It was during his stint with the USLSS in 1874 that he discovered the rubber life-saving suit invented by C. S. Merriman of Pittsburgh.

Gravesend town hall
In the late 1880s, the Coney Island police shared space in the Gravesend town hall at 2337 McDonald Avenue (they had four jail cells in the basement). It was here Captain Lawson kept the alligator on display. The town hall was constructed around 1873 on the site of a former schoolhouse built in 1788. When the police force moved into their new headquarters in 1897, the town hall served Engine Co. 254. It was demolished in 1913.

The suit – the precursor to the frogman diving suit or the dry suit used in scuba diving – was essentially rubber pants and a shirt cinched at the waist. It had air pockets that one could inflate using tubes, which allowed the person to float in the water and stay dry for long periods of time. (If only the Titanic had a few thousand of these on board!)

Captain Paul Boyton
Captain Paul Boyton

In the winter of 1879, James Creelman, a reporter for the New York Herald who couldn’t swim, was assigned to test the life-saving suit in New York. He and Paul Boyton donned the suits and jumped into the icy water at Castle Garden (today’s Battery Park) at 11 p.m.

The two daredevils paddled their way in the dark as Boyton shot off Coston flares to alert the men on Governor’s Island that they were approaching.

Once near the island, they drank some wine and smoked cigars that Boyton kept along with his flares and other safety gear in a small, 3-foot iron boat that he tied to himself.

Paul Boyton in rubber life-saving suit, 1880s
Captain Paul Boyton was famous for his daring demonstrations of a watertight rubber suit designed as a life-saving device for steamship passengers.

After a few dangerous encounters with ice floes, the men finally reached shore at Stapleton, Staten Island, around 6 a.m. It was James Creelman’s vivid account of that dangerous adventure that helped propel Boyton to aquatic stardom.

Sea Lion Park

After years on the road demonstrating the rubber suit and operating a traveling aquatic circus, Paul finally settled down at Coney Island.

In 1895, he bought 16 acres of cheap land behind the failing Elephant Colossus hotel from the New York & Sea Beach Railroad. He opened his Sea Lion Park on July 4th of that same year.

Paul Boyton demonstrates life-saving suit
Paul Boyton would demonstrate the life-saving suit by paddling like an otter down the rivers of Europe. The Italians labeled him “L’uomo pesce” – the fish man. In this drawing from the Illustrated London News in November 1874, Boyton demonstrates the suit in Cork Harbour, Ireland.

Sea Lion Park was a fenced-in amusement park that featured a broad lagoon where Captain Boyton would demonstrate his rubber suit and show off his performing sea lions.

The one-price admission also gave people access to the old-mill water ride, the famous Shooting-the-Chutes ride designed by Boyton and Thomas Polk, and the Flip Flap Railroad ride.

Sea Lion Park, Coney Island
This photo of Sea Lion Park was reportedly taken from the rear of the Elephant Colossus hotel across from Surf Avenue, between W. 11th and W. 12th Street. The Shooting-the-Chutes is on the right and the Flip Flap Railroad is near the entrance on the left.

I’m not sure why Police Captain Lawson or Captain Boyton thought Sea Lion Park would be a good place for an alligator, but it was here the alligator – which they named Cap Lawson — made its brief stay on the island.

The Grizzly Death of Cap Lawson the Alligator

On July 14, 1896, Cap Lawson decided to break through the wires of his enclosure and make a meal out of Captain Boyton’s Newfoundland, Nero, who was sleeping nearby. As several attendants watched in horror, the alligator and dog engaged in a fierce battle.

Although the men tried to separate the two with clubs, their efforts were to no avail. Finally, Nero seized Cap Lawson by the throat and killed him. The poor alligator who was taken from his river home and survived a train crash never had a chance against the Coney Island Newfoundland.

Shooting-the-Shoots
Shooting-the-Chutes was an aquatic toboggan slide with flat-bottomed boats that slid down a long steep slide into the lagoon. An up-curve at the lower end would launch the boat into the air before it hit the surface, resulting in a series of hops and skips that heaved the passengers from their seats several times. The boat was guided to a landing by a boatman on board, then pulled up the ramp by cable and turned around on a small turntable to be ready for the next group of passengers who arrived at the top by elevator.

The Demise of Sea Lion Park

Although Captain Boyton enjoyed a few years of success – especially after he built a large ballroom on the former site of the Elephant hotel in 1899 – he couldn’t entice repeat customers on an annual basis.

Flip Flap Railroad
The Flip Flap Railroad was a dangerous ride that featured two-passenger roller coaster cars that descended from a high lift hill and sped through a vertical 25-foot diameter loop. The cars were held in place at the top by centrifugal force only. The ride’s abrupt high G-forces sometimes caused whiplash as the cars entered the circular loop.

Following a dismal rainy season in 1902, he offered a 25-year lease to Frederic W. Thompson and Elmer “Skip” Dundy, proprietors of the “Trip to the Moon” attraction at Coney Island’s Steeplechase Park. A year later, they opened the spectacular Luna Park on the site.

Still drawn to the water, Boyton spent the rest of his life building houseboats along the Mississippi River. He retired in 1912 and returned to the Sheepshead Bay section of Brooklyn.

On April 19, 1924, he died of complications from pneumonia in his new home at 2649 Manfield Place (today’s East 24th Street). He was buried at Holy Cross Cemetery on Long Island.

Sea Lion Park
The feeding of the sea lions at Captain Boyton’s Sea Lion Park.

For more about Captain Boyton, check out this article by his great grandson, Craig Dudley, on The Coney Island Blog.