The original design for Prospect Park included a zoological garden which never came to fruition during the construction of the park in the 1860s. A fairly informal menagerie was created in 1890 to showcase a smattering of animals including elk and sheep. Many people found the animals to be quite a nuisance; they made noise and smelled like, well, animals. What's more, Manhattan already had a legitimate menagerie in Central Park (1864) which was nearly thirty years older and far more permanent than the one on the grassy knolls of Prospect Park.

As the 19th century came to a close, the menagerie began to acquire more animals and a permanent place within the park's identity. In 1898, the Prospect Park menagerie was one of the few places in the country to host a baby bison. By the turn of the century millions of bison had been slaughtered and there were thought to be no more than 1,000 left in the country. One of those supposed 1,000 lived in Prospect Park. He was big. He was brown. And, by all accounts, he was lonely. George V. Brower, the Parks Commissioner, had been searching the country for a female bison (cow) to bring to Brooklyn. This proved to be an insurmountable task, as most of the remaining animals were in private collections and could not be purchased. Serendipitously, Brower came into contact with a Kansas man had recently purchased a small herd from a tribe who could no longer care for them. The man was willing to sell one of his newly acquired cows. This was a lucky break for Brower (and for the cow) as the man had purchased the herd with plans of slaughtering them for winter meat. So, for $500 and the cost of shipping, the Prospect Park bison was given a mate. When the cow arrived via Wells-Fargo wagon "the delight of the lonesome bull at seeing one of his own kind was a cheerful spectacle. They rubbed noses though the bars in a most affectionate manner. In a very short time they were given the same cage, and were friends from the moment this was done" (Brooklyn Daily Eagle, December 22, 1898). Commissioner Brower was exceedingly proud of his purchase.

Over the years, both the Central Park Zoo and the Bronx Zoo (here is where I switch from 'menagerie' to 'zoo', as the words were being used interchangeably since the early 20th century) padded the Prospect Park Zoo with 'extra' animals, among them bears and coyotes. Other donations came in from private collections. In July of 1900, the zoo opened a flying bird cage (a cage for flying birds, not a cage that flew) and also acquired "a Columbian black-tailed deer, a pronghorn antelope, five swift foxes, two gray wolves, six woodchucks, two red foxes, four American flamingos, one dusky horned owl, and two coral snakes" (Brooklyn Daily Eagle, July 8, 1900). Not to be outdone by other boroughs, Brookynites began calling for an updated park to match the grandeur of New York City's other zoological gardens. But if the zoo in Prospect Park was to be taken seriously it needed an influx of even more new animals and a more modern facility to keep them in. Cue Frank Bostock.

Frank Bostock was an entertainment mogul in true 19th century fashion. The Bostock family had been involved in traveling circuses for decades in both England and abroad. His animal shows contained all the drama of the circus (if circuses are your thing): lion tamers, acrobatic bears, and snake charmers. As of 1903, 'Bostock's Wild Animal Show' had a permanent home in Dreamland, one of the amusement parks at Coney Island. He also had a reputation for animal cruelty, but that's a another post. 1911 was a bad year for both Bostock and Coney Island. Dreamland caught fire and burned to the ground. Tragically, few of Bostock's animals could be saved from the blaze. Frank Bostock would follow the next year, dying at 46 years old of a stroke. His animal shows would continue, but on a smaller scale.

Cue WWI. Out of the frying pan, as they say. As of July, 1914, Europe was at war. Bostock's European animal collection needed a new, safe home, and fast. Some of the animals were quickly purchased by Hollywood, others by zoological associations, and a few went to other wild animal shows. In October of that year, Brooklyn threw its hat into the mix by purchasing 70 animals of her very own. Lions don't come cheap, however. Cue Brooklynites. The Brooklyn Daily Eagle spearheaded a project to raise money to purchase the animals. The debt was to be paid before the animals were shipped. Readers were asked to send in donations to 'buy' the animals for the Prospect Park Zoo. Anyone who purchased an animal would be given the right to (re)name it.

When the money started rolling in, the Eagle felt confident they could pay the bill and officially purchased the animals and ordered the whole lot shipped. "Hurrah! The animals for the Prospect Park zoo are by now on the high seas en route from England to America and Prospect Park. It was a veritable Noah's Ark that embarked today and the lions roared, the bears gave grunts of satisfaction, and the monkeys chattered vigorously, no doubt speculating on all the fun they would have when they ensconced in the new zoo..." The total cost was $3000. Roughly $2000 was to be the responsibility of the citizens of Brooklyn. Parks Commissioner (and later Borough President) Raymond Ingersoll urged all Brooklynites to participate. He called on kids to send in their milk money, called on grandparents to buy gifts for their grandchildren, called on all Brooklyn fathers to donate $1, and even called on park employees. Employees of Prospect Park ended up buying three bears. When your boss tells you to buy a bear, you ask how many.

The collection continued to grow. On October 25th, Mrs. G. V. Cartwright inquired about an animal she could purchase in full, making it clear that she would not be sharing. Thus, because of Mrs. Cartwright's generosity (and originality?), the zoo got a kangaroo named The Brooklyn Daily Eagle. (Eat your heart out, North West.) Mr. Charles Higgins bought a leopard, the most expensive animal at the collection valued at $150, and named him Gowane. The Orpheum Theater bought a bear and, even if the bear couldn't sing, his name was to be Orpheum. Not all of the animals were coming via ark, however. Mrs. Ruth Hill donated two small alligators for whom Commissioner Ingersoll had to scramble to create some sort of special enclosure. It was not explained where she got them nor where she had been keeping them. I'm guessing sewer and bathtub, respectively. Madam Adgie, a patriotic Brooklynite and circus performer whose trained lions rivaled Bostock's, donated a lion cub and the 'services' of a male lion for breeding purposes. Generosity abounds! Every day the Eagle would publish a list of the animals still available for purchas

The Eagle began to beseech residents to donate any money they could, as the animals were slated to arrive on November 11th and, at that time, the bill needed to be settled. The representative for the Bostock family felt that raising a mere $2000 should be very doable. In fact, he felt that selling the animals for a mere $2000 was akin to robbery. " 'Why, the lions \[that] sold for $100,' said \[the Bostock representative] "are worth $400 on the spot, and the other animals in proportion and do you know this is costing us nearly $2000, two thirds of the $3000 we are getting, just for transportation?' " (Brooklyn Daily Eagle, October 18, 1914). Needless to say, his harangue did nothing to dampen Brooklyn's spirits as it geared up for the November 11th parade.

A few days later the animals arrived safely but, on the day of the grand parade and exhibition, it rained. A lot. Commissioner Ingersoll postponed the opening day until the following Saturday so all of the Brooklynites, who had put so much effort into securing the animals, could greet them. Yet not all was well on Prospect Lane. The Prospect Park Zoo now had nineteen bears confined to a space that should have accommodated six. The keepers were doing their best, using all available space, but the zoo was clearly crowded and undeniably insufficient. One might say the zoo was "bad news bears."

In November, the Brooklyn Citizens Committee was founded. It would morph into the Brooklyn Zoological Association the following month. The main focus of the new organization was to support the zoo and secure funds for a new facility. How they would secure the funds, however, was still very much up for debate. Commissioner Ingersoll proposed a new tax. Others preferred a pledge drive much like the one the Eagle had run. Lions are one thing, zoos are another. The new facility was slated to cost roughly $16,000. On April 21st, 1916, with the help of Brooklyn's citizens, both average and high-profile, the first of three proposed wings opened to the public.

The new facility had more room for the animals who currently resided at the zoo and additional space for more exotic animals. Chicken hawks arrived from outer Queens, homeless after their house took an unfortunate tumble. Battalion C, Second Field Artillery, sent a wildcat and a coyote from the Texas border. Both animals were trapped for the express purposes of sending them to Prospect Park. Not the best way to acquire animals, no doubt, but I'm sure they meant well. On October 3rd, 1916, a polar bear moved into 12 Den Row.

As of 1923, just under a decade after the Eagle worked tirelessly to acquire a portion of the Bostock collection, the same Eagle remarked that the hand-me-down animals were dying and the new houses, all three wings having been completed, were crumbling. The Prospect Park Zoo would go through many more periods of great change over the course of the 20th century. It was taken over by the city in 1935 at the behest of Robert Moses, fell into ruin alongside much of New York in the 1970s and 80s, and was revitalized in the 1990s, as were the rest of the Wildlife Conservation Society's parks. The Prospect Park Zoo has given millions of New Yorkers the chance to see the natural world up close. However dubious the origins of zoos, there is something irrefutably special about communing with nature.