CATATONIC LEADVILLE

During its mining boom days, Leadville was well known nationally for its high altitude, which at the time was believed to have a lethal impact on cats.

Virtually all mining booms in the Old West were followed by corresponding cat booms as mining towns spawned rodents by the thousands, and enterprising entrepreneurs recognized the need and imported felines that they sold for exorbitant prices.

Cats delivered to Leadville, however, had a higher mortality rate than in the typical mining town. Observers at the time blamed it on the high altitude. Here’s how some newspapers of the time reported on the inexplicable feline fatalities:

ALTITUDE SICKNESS

One of the queerest of the many queer things about Leadville is that in all the length and breadth thereof there lives not a single cat. Cats have been imported here by the hundreds and in all varieties of color, breeding and size; but not one has ever survived the second week of residence. No one seems to understand why it is that the cats all die, but they do. The healthiest, sleekest cat in St. Louis, if brought to Leadville would lose all interest in life the moment it reached here, and after moping around in a sickly and disconsolate way for a few days would resignedly have a fit and give up the ghost.

A saloonkeeper on State Street brought a big strong Maltese from Denver a few days ago, hoping the animal would survive the fits long enough to become acclimated; but it was no use. The cat had a fit the first day, two or three the second, and then the number of attacks increased in a geometrical progression until, as the saloon-man said, “There were more fits than cat, and the cat had to give in.”—St. Louis Globe-Democrat

Fort Worth (Texas) Daily Gazette

Saturday, August 30, 1884, p3

THIN AIR

In Leadville, Colorado, the atmosphere is too thin for cats, or their common prey, rats and mice, to live. What a blessing some persons in other places would consider it if they could have that atmosphere for a while, when the cats are on their back sheds at night, making enough noise to raise an Egyptian mummy.

Colleyville (Kansas) Weekly Journal

Saturday, September 6, 1884, p3

NO CATS

There is not a single cat within the limits of the town of Leadville, Colorado. Cats have been imported there by the hundreds, and in all varieties of color and size, but not one has ever survived the second week of residence. However, as there are no rats and mice in Leadville, there is no real need of cats, and it makes little difference whether they live or die. The thin atmosphere at that altitude (10,200) is as fatal to the vermin as to their foe, and the inhabitants are thus mercifully spared the inflictions of both.—Chicago Inter-Ocean

Wyandotte Gazette, Kansas City, Kansas

Friday, November 7, 1884, p1

THAT LECTURE

Prof. Hoenschel’s lecture at the M.E. church on Saturday night last was highly enjoyed by an appreciative audience. Pike’s Peak was his subject and he interspersed anecdotes with solid facts in such a way as to hold the attention of his audience. … Cats can’t live at Leadville, but the man who made the most money on his investment in ’59—the first year of the Pike’s Peak excitement—was the man who took out a load of cats. They cost him nothing, but sold for good round prices to the miners—to stand over their flour, which at $25 per sack, was too dear to be turned over to the army of wood-rats that preceded the gold seekers and the mice that went along for company. … The lecture was good, and as the cats were excluded, we can say without fear of contradiction that the talk was enjoyed by the entire audience.

The Alma (Kansas) Signal

Saturday, April 18, 1896, p1

Preston Lewis is the award-winning author of more than 50 novels and nonfiction works, including Cat Tales of the Old West and More Cat Tales of the Old West, from which this article was adapted.