MAINE CATS.
From my earliest recollection I have had from one to several
long-haired cats of that variety often called Maine cats. As to how
and when they came, I would say, like Topsy, they just “growed,” for
their advent reaches far back beyond the memory of the oldest
inhabitant.
Our own family circle was never complete without one or more cats—not
always long-haired, but that variety always held the place of honour.
As early as 1861 my younger brother and myself owned jointly a
beautiful long-haired black, pointed with white; he bore up for
several years under the remarkable name of “Captain Jenks of the Horse
Marines.” I have no recollection of his earlier history or advent. I
fancy, however, that these cats came into Maine much in the same way
and about the same time that they did in England.
The Maine people having had them so long, it is difficult to arouse
any great enthusiasm about them there. They are much like other
people—they go into heroics over things they know less about.
Not until the craze for long-haired cats struck the West did they
think much about selling cats; their very best would be given to their
dearest friends. When I think of the number of beauties that I have
had given me on my return visits because I would be good to them, it
makes me wish for the good old times when the little dears were beyond
price in “filthy lucre.”
I think the first really important development of the cat fancy that
took deep and lasting root in me occurred in 1869, when I saw for the
first time a pair of blue-eyed white Persian kittens that landed, to
say the least, free of duty, in a sailmaker’s pocket, from a foreign
vessel, which put into a seaport town for repairs after a severe
storm.
This Mr. P——, being a great lover of cats, while on board the vessel
making repairs, admired a beautiful white Persian cat with a family of
kittens, belonging to the cook, who gave him a pair of them. They grew
and were nursed with tenderest care, the female developing much the
better quality in hair; but females were not highly prized at that
time.
They were both kept two or three years to get a good male for a
gelding. I was told that they destroyed all the female kittens; but at
last they were rewarded, and then the original pair were sent to a
relative in the country.
From that time on long-haired blue-eyed white kittens sprang up in
most unexpected places. At intervals they have appeared and almost
disappeared several times for want of care in breeding, but with this
drawback they will still frequently come forth in the same fine type.
I owned a very fine specimen called “Dot,” who became a noted winner,
and who came from this strain about eleven years after the kittens
landed. I think he was quite as good a specimen of Persian as the one
that came from the original kittens. They were both cat show winners
at the same time, although “Baba” (or “Babie”) was in his dotage when
“Dot” was in his prime. We were not thinking of pedigrees then, but
merely who had the best cat.
“Baba” at that time belonged to Mrs. Mason (formerly Mrs. Philbrook),
and won the cup over everything in the Boston show. “Dot” was not at
the Boston show, but won first in his class at Bangor, Maine, which
was held at about the same time.
“Dot” was sent to the Bangor show to please Mr. Robinson, owner of
“Richelieu,” who had the management of it, and without the slightest
thought of winning. He brought home a gorgeous silver butter-dish,
elaborately inscribed, which sat about at least ten years before being
given to the cook. Oh, that I had it now, that its picture might grace
these pages!
For intelligence and affection “Dot” was by far the superior cat. I
have never seen his equal. Although deaf, his other senses were so
keen that we hardly realised he did not hear. He would answer to the
slightest beckon, and was always watching for a call. He was quite
proud of his beauty, and never failed at his mistress’s receptions to
speak to each person present before taking his seat in the window.
At one time some office girls who passed our house every day on the
way to their work told me he was usually on the gate-post at seven
o’clock in the morning to salute them and wave his plume to them. Each
one stroked his head, said “Pretty kitty!” and passed on. He then took
his morning roll on the lawn, and was ready for his breakfast.
[Illustration:
“HENNESSY.”
OWNED BY MRS. HALL, BELFAST, MAINE.
]
His benevolence and tender feeling for cats of low degree was
displayed by his keeping a cat two winters; his _protégé_ was an
example of the sad-eyed forlorn cat (one sad eye, the other closed
beyond repair); spirit completely broken by neglect. As soon as the
weather became cool, “Dot” would usher his sad friend into the kitchen
every morning and ask for breakfast for him, then sit back on the rug
the while, and with utmost satisfaction—expressed in song—watch the
tramp cat eat it. Where he kept his friend when he was not eating we
knew not; he was invisible.
He also excelled as a traveller, making several short journeys. When
with me he scorned a basket, much preferring to sit on the seat and
look out of the window and incidentally entertain the other passengers
by his unusual privileges in cat travelling.
He developed an unusual taste for moisture, often sitting on a garden
bench through a heavy shower, while his frolics in a light snowfall
were most entertaining.
Taking him all in all, I have not yet seen a finer pet cat. We sent
him to rest in the happy hunting grounds at the age of ten years.
I would like to say a few words here in regard to American cat shows.
We are continually hearing it stated, or seeing it written by the
clubs and those who are new to the fancy, “The first cat show ever
held in this country,” and so forth, was, we will say, according to
their light, some three years ago. That is true so far as clubs go,
but large cat shows were held spasmodically in all the large and some
small eastern cities as far back as the ‘seventies.
I have a photograph of “Richelieu,” owned by Mr. Robinson, of Bangor,
Maine, who had won first in his class at Boston, New York, and
Philadelphia previous to 1884, when he was shown at Bangor, Maine, in
a limited show of the one hundred best cats. He was a silver or bluish
tabby, very lightly marked; about seven years old at the time; weight
about twenty pounds; he was, as his picture shows, rather a
coarse-grained variety; a drug store cat.
I know nothing of his early history; but his owner had the cat fad—a
well-developed case—and travelled from city to city to show his cat,
much as we are all doing now twenty years later.
At that time Maine, near the coast, was rich in fine specimens of the
long-haired cats. That was before they began to sell. I have in mind
their brown tabbies.
We often hear it said by people who know them not that the Maine cats
are unhealthy, that they have worms; and I have to admit it, and that
they sometimes die like other cats; but here is one that didn’t until
he had rounded out his full seventeen years.
On page 329 is a picture of “Leo,” brown tabby, born 1884, died 1901;
presented to Mrs. Persis Bodwell Martin, of Augusta, Maine, by Mrs. E.
R. Pierce, when he was six months old.
He lived a life of luxury and ease, having his meals served by his
mistress’s own hand in the upper hall, where he chose to spend his
time for the later years of his life.
[Illustration:
“BLUE DANUBE.”
BRED BY MRS. E. R. PIERCE.
]
If I may be permitted, I would ask comparison between the picture of
“Leo” and any thoroughbred brown tabby—first, colour of muzzle, length
of nose, size and shape of eyes, breadth of forehead, size of ears,
length of hair in the ears, and on the head. In body markings “Leo”
would fall off, as his hair was so extremely long that the markings
became somewhat confused.
They have had some extremely fine brown tabbies in Maine. In the
summer of 1900 I bought “Maxine” there—the mother of “Young Hamlet,”
who won over his sire “Prince Rupert” the first year he was shown. She
was, or is, very much the type of the “King Humbert” stock, though she
has no pedigree whatever.
It is one of Nature’s own secrets how they keep bringing forth—now and
then, not always—these fine types.
I have before me a most interesting letter from a Maine lady, one of
my contemporaries.
I will first explain that Maine at that time was one of the largest
ship-building States in the Union, residents of the seaport towns and
cities being often masters of their own floating palaces, taking their
families with them to foreign countries, and having in many towns
quite social sets, like the army set or official set in other
sections.
Mrs. Thomas, to whose letter I refer, was the daughter of the late
Captain Stackpole, who commanded his own ship for many years, taking
his wife and little daughter with him. That was before our Civil War.
She says:—
“I was always very fond of cats before they had to have a pedigree. In
my younger days, _en route_ for California, we stopped at Juan
Fernandez, and I got a little wild cat.
“Later on, when in Europe, I got a Manx cat from the Isle of Man; it
was a great curiosity, and not considered very handsome, with its
bob-tail, and hind legs so much longer than the front ones. It came to
an untimely end by running up a flue, and was smothered to death.
“The wild cat did not flourish on condensed milk, and lived but a
short time. Bad luck has followed me right along, but I keep right on
like an old toper, and don’t know enough to stop.”
In writing of her own cat, the mother of “Swampscott,” she says:—
“I cannot tell you much about my cat’s pedigree—only that her
great-grandfather was brought to Rockport, Maine, from France; he was
a blue-eyed white.”
This line of whites, while in the same locality, are quite distinct
and unrelated to the first whites mentioned, of which “Dot” was given
as a type.
But her reference to her early exploits with Manx cats clears the air
as to how these different varieties first got root in Maine. This
instance is only one in many where pets of every variety were bought
in foreign ports to amuse the children on shipboard; otherwise, as in
one case I can call to mind, the children would make pets of the live
stock carried to supply the captain’s table with fresh meals—chickens,
lambs, etc.—until it would be impossible to eat the little dears after
they were served by the cruel cook.
Therefore birds of plumage and singers, cats, dogs, and even monkeys,
found their way to nearly all the coast towns—many more in the past
than at this time, when sailing vessels have passed their usefulness
as money-making institutions, and those that do go out are not
commanded by their owners; paid captains, as a rule, cannot take their
families with them, and the supply of cats from that source has been
cut off for many years, so those we find there now can safely be
called natives.
Up to this point I have been writing of the cats of the long, long
ago, and perhaps only interesting to myself, being as full of plain
facts as Gradgrind.
Before coming down to some of the fine cats of the present day, I will
say that I am told by an eye-witness that on a little island quite
well off the coast which is inhabited by only three families, and
where a few gentlemen have a quiet nook to fish in summer, they found
pure white Persian cats with the most heavenly-blue eyes. So far as is
known, no other cats are on the island. I had the promise of a pair
last year, but cruel fate had visited them in their sheltered nook,
and the kittens that year died. The promise still holds good, and I do
not want to believe it a “fish story.” Time alone can finish it.
I really know nothing of the cats that are said to be found on the
islands; but no doubt they are much the same as those found all along
the New England coast.
For a long time the long-haired cats seemed to be confined mostly to
the coast towns and cities; but the giving their best to “their
sisters and their cousins and their aunts” have spread them inland, as
well as scattered them over nearly every State in the Union. They
thrive as well as any other long-haired cat. No doubt they do still
better in Maine, but the difference comes from the fact that they have
the freedom of living a natural life, without dopes or over-coddling.
Their offspring are beautiful, because they are from their own
choosing, and not from compulsory mating—often distasteful, no doubt.
[Illustration:
“LEO.” BROWN TABBY.
OWNED BY MRS. P. MARTIN.
(_Photo: Hunton, Hallowell._)
]
About 1895 or 1896 the cat fad struck the Middle West. The time was
ripe for its development. The high, the low, the rich, the poor have
all felt its force, as the real love of animal pets is no respecter of
persons, and this fancy has made the whole world kin.
A few people who had never seen a cat show in their native land “go
across,” attend a cat show, or pick up a cat at a bargain on the
streets of London; they “fetch” it home, and, lo! their neighbour has
seen something very like it while at their summer home on the coast of
Maine. The fad is contagious, and if they have the fever running _very
high_ they send back east to their “handy-man” to get them a
long-haired cat, and these cats become popular. Clubs are formed to
discuss points and exchange knowledge, shows become a necessity, large
premiums are offered, numerous valuable specials become a feature,
cats must be found to fit them, the home market at a low figure is
looked over, many Attic treasures are brought out, and have often
tipped the scales in favour of the Yankee cat. We all turn green with
envy. Before another show we must import a ready-made winner at any
cost! In the meantime, the demand for the home-grown article is
increasing, and prices are getting much inflated, the dealers in large
cities keeping their buyers busy in the New England field during the
fall and winter months. But the stock of kittens has been looked over
by the summer residents or visitors; the real cream disappeared with
the first frost to some winter homes in the big cities; the dealers
get what is left at almost any price they please to pay, many of the
specimens being indifferent, and some, no doubt, mongrels.
In the last few years I have known less of the Maine cats, except
through the shows and a few that I have owned myself, which have not
been shown much or proved remarkable in any way; but among the gems
that have shown out with more or less brilliancy when on the bench we
find “Cosie,” a brown tabby, taking first and special for best cat in
show in New York, 1895. Mrs. Lambert brings out “Patrique” in New York
in 1896—blue, and a nice one.
[Illustration:
“YELLOW H. 14TH BEAUTY.”
OWNED BY MRS. STAPLES.
]
“King Max”—first brought out by Mrs. Taylor—won in Boston first in
1897–98–99, only to be beaten by his sire “Donald” in 1900.
Mrs. Mix has shown a fine Persian type from Maine called the “Dairy
Maid.” I believe she has also “Imogene,” from the same place—a
tortoiseshell.
Mrs. Julius Copperberg’s “Petronius,” of whom we all expected great
things, was from a line of creams coming well down from a fine cream
brought from some Mediterranean port by one Captain Condon about
fifteen years ago. I have secured for friends several kittens from his
cat’s descendants, which are now somewhat scattered, but all showing
great strength, form, bone, and sinew.
Mrs. Chapman’s “Cusie Maxine”—a fine type of brown tabby, dam of
“Young Hamlet,” who won over his sire “Prince Rupert”—was also a Maine
cat.
Mr. Jones, of _The Cat Journal_, has from time to time had some fine
brown tabbies of the Maine stock, winners at some of the larger shows.
A fair representative of the whites, who has acquitted himself well at
the various shows in competition with large classes, is “Swampscott,”
owned by Mrs. F. E. Smith, of Chicago. He comes from Mrs. Georgia
Thomas’s white cats at Camden, Maine, his maternal great-grandsire
coming from France.
“Midnight”—a younger black cat, winning second at Cincinnati to a cat
from New Hampshire in better coat, and second in Chicago in 1901 in
large classes—has since become a gelding and pet of Mrs. J. J. Hooker,
of Cincinnati. He comes from a line of blacks owned by a retired
sea-captain named Ryan, who had at one time four generations of black
cats. They loved their cats like babies, and for years looked for
people _suitable_ to give their kittens to. I have been the flattered
recipient three times in the last dozen years of these beautiful black
diamonds.
“Antonio,” a gelding, now owned by Mrs. A. B. Thrasher, of Cincinnati,
Ohio, is also a fine representative of this stock. _See_ photograph.
In the last few years, since cats there are at such a premium and old
age getting nearer every day, these good people have hardened their
hearts, and now sell like others to the highest bidder.
I can also think of “Peter the Great,” a neuter cream and white, owned
by Mrs. Carl Schmidt, shown at Detroit, Michigan, 1901. Also “Black
Patti”—originally owned by Miss Ives—and “Rufus,” both Maine cats, now
owned in Detroit, and winners in some of the Middle West shows; and
many, many other winners whose place of nativity is a sacred secret
with their owners, which we will not wilfully expose to public gaze
until our native cats have been accorded the place that is due to
them.
I would like to tell you of some of the handsome geldings in Maine. No
cat is too good for a pet with them. They may be seen on nearly every
lawn or stoop; but as that is a little out of the province of this
story I will only describe one—a beautiful smoke owned by Dr. and Mrs.
E. A. Wilson at their beautiful home in Belfast, Maine. He is now ten
years old; his mask and feet are black, or nearly so; his hair is very
dark, rather brownish at the tip, but as white as snow at the skin. I
have begged them to show him at Boston or New York. The answer is
always the same: “Not for any amount of money or prizes. ‘Tags’
wouldn’t like it; he would be unhappy. Wouldn’t you, ‘Tagsie’?”
The smokes have not been well developed there yet. In a letter lately
received in regard to that variety, I am told that one of the regular
agents said he found only about one in 200. The silvers and
chinchillas are not common. The strong colours predominate, whites,
blacks, blues, orange, and creams, tabbies also being well divided and
distributed along the coast, and for quite a distance back, perhaps
sixty miles or more; but I have not known of their appearing to any
extent in the northern portion of the State, which is less thickly
settled.
Having had this fancy from my infancy and before it became a fashion,
I took kindly to all the new developments. I have since had some
experience with imported and kennel-bred cats, and from time to time
had opportunities of seeing the best we have in our shows, and I fully
believe that cats that have their freedom, as most of the Maine cats
have for the greater part of their lives, are healthier than kennel
cats can be. The cool climate and long winters, with clean air full of
ozone, is what is needed to develop their best qualities, and, with a
few years of careful breeding for types, they would be able to compete
quite successfully in an international cat show.
F. R. PIERCE.
[Illustration:
MRS. BAGSTER’S “DEMIDOFF.”
(_Photo: Cassell & Company, Limited._)
]
[Illustration:
A SNAPSHOT.
(_Photo: E. Landor, Ealing._)
]