Today is the United States release of my non-fiction animal history book The Pug Who Bit Napoleon: Animal Tales of the 18th and 19th Centuries! The paperback is now available in the U.S. and can be purchased at Amazon and other online or brick and mortar booksellers.
It’s release day for the eBook version of my non-fiction animal history book The Pug Who Bit Napoleon: Animal Tales of the 18th and 19th Centuries! The eBook is available worldwide and can be purchased for Kindle, Nook, or other eBook reading device. The paperback version has, unfortunately, been delayed until early next month.[…]Continue Reading
“Favorite dogs are never welcome visitors in a drawing-room.”
Martine’s Hand-Book of Etiquette, 1866.
In the Victorian era, etiquette books offered very specific advice on how to conduct oneself when paying a social call. In some cases, this advice differed from book to book and decade to decade, but in one respect all the etiquette manuals throughout the Victorian era seem to agree. When paying a call on a friend or acquaintance, one should never bring along one’s dog. As the 1840 book Etiquette for Ladies states:[…]Continue Reading
‘Old maids and cats have long been proverbially associated together, and rightly or wrongly these creatures have been looked upon with a certain degree of suspicion and aversion by a large proportion of the human race.’
Dundee Courier, 5 October 1880.
Spinsters have long been associated with cats. This was especially true in the Victorian era when the stereotype of the old maid and her feline dependents was so pervasive that an 1880 edition of the Dundee Courier not only declared that “the old maid would not be typical of her class without the cat,” but that “one cannot exist without the other.” Like cats (who were generally viewed as being sly and self-serving), old maids faced their fair share of societal persecution. Doomed to live in a state of “single blessedness,” they were often seen as being eccentric or as having been soured by their “blighted hopes.” […]Continue Reading
Among fashionable Victorians, there was no parlor ornament so elegant—nor so diverting—as a clear glass globe filled with glittering goldfish. It was considered to be educational for children who, according to author Charles Nash Page in his 1898 book Aquaria, could learn more in a few hours of observing the goldfish than in “many days spent with books.” It was also believed to be beneficial for invalids since watching the goldfish swim was “health restoring” and “restful to the mind.” By the middle of the 19th century, goldfish globes had become so popular that an entire class of street-sellers had risen up to fill the demand. Operating in both London and the English countryside, these “goldfish-hawkers” were a common sight—especially in the vicinity of the homes of the wealthy and the well-to-do, where they preferred to ply their trade.