All that glistens is not . . . goldfish

Joanna here, talking about English Goldfish. 

You've probably asked yourself, from time to time, if there are any Shakespeare  quotes about goldfish. 

Did Shakespeare say, "That which we call a goldfish, by any other name would be as bright"? 
Or insult some catiff with a, "Thou wimpled, reeling-ripe goldfish-licker!" 

He did not. 
Goldfish didn't make it to England till nearly a century after Shakespeare's death.  We got Shakespearean dogs and cats, camels, carp, marmosets, mackerel, and whales . . . but no goldfish. 

Basically, the goldfish is the carp who made good. 

The carp is a wide-spread, useful and tasty fish that's been domesticated for a couple millennia in China.  While the Chinese were raising carp for the table, they'd noticed a common mutation that threw an orange or gold fish in among the ordinary ones. 

After centuies of noticing that, about a thousand years ago, the Chinese set down to the serious business of breeding these bright-colored fishes as garden ornaments.  The women of the imperial court doubtless engaged in a little friendly rivalry as to the beauty and vigor of their particular line of goldfish.  They'd bring them inside in big porcelain basins to enjoy.  Especially favored courtiers would be invited over to watch the fish swim, this being before TV and Wii.

When trade routes opened in the 1600s, goldfish were freed from their splendid isolation in the Mandarin's garden and went travelling the world.  Japan first.  Then southern Europe, coming in through Portugal.  Then just about everywhere.

The Japanese Kanji characters for goldfish are 'gold' and 'fish'.  'King yo'.  In Dutch, goldfish is goudvis.  French, poisson d'or.  Spanish, carpa dorada.  Goldfish tend to be called 'goldfish'. 

When goldfish hit Europe, it settled a bit of an artistic conundrum.  Chinese  paintings had been arriving in Europe with representations of goldfish.  "Pooh," said some.  "Mythical animals." 

Turned out it wasn't artistic license. 
It was fish.

Legend has it goldfish were brought to France as a present for Madame de Pompadour.  In Russia, Prince Potemkin gave goldfish to Catherine the Great. 

Goldfish were the Tiffany trinket of the Eighteenth Century.

And across southern Europe in those years, it became a tradition for husbands to give their wives a goldfish on the first anniversary as a symbol for prosperous years to come.

 

Here's a pair of impeccable French goldfish from 1800 in an impeccable period fishbowl. 

Goldfish moved into England in 1728, brought over to a Sir Matthew Dekker who handed them out to his friends and neighbors in London. 

They were, when first introduced into England, considered rare and fragile.  As late as 1821, a naturalist could write,

"Great care is necessary to preserve them; for they are extremely delicate, and sensible of the least injuries of the air; a loud noise, such as that of thunder or cannon; a strong smell, a violent shaking of the vessel or a single touch, will often destroy them."

Admittedly, the survival of a goldfish in the care of a ten-year-old boy is somewhat of a crap shoot.  But it's not as bad as that.

The most illustrious patron of goldfish in Georgian England was Horace Walpole, who kept a pond of them at his home, Strawberry Hill, bred them and gifted them about Europe. 

 Said Walpole: 

"I have lately given count Perron some gold-fish, which he has carried in his post-chaise to Turin: he has already carried some before. The Russian minister has asked me for some too, but I doubt their succeeding there . . ."

Goldfish:  Eighteenth Century baksheesh, greasing the wheels of international diplomacy.

 

Walpole tells the story:  

"I Was prevented from finishing my letter yesterday, by what do you think ? By no less magnificent a circumstance than a deluge  . . .  About four arrived such a flood, that we could not see out of the windows: the whole lawn was a lake . . .  I had but just, time to collect two dogs, a couple of sheep, a pair of bantams, and a brace of gold-fish; for, in the haste of my zeal to imitate my ancestor Noah, I forgot that fish would not easily be drowned.

In short, if you chance to spy a little ark with pinnacles sailing towards Jersey, open the sky-light, and you will find some of your acquaintance. You never saw such desolation ! A pigeon brings word that Mabland has fared still worse."

I can see Walpole, retreating from his flooded house with his 'brace of goldfish'.  (ETA:  This is Horace Walpole, not Robert Walpole, as I originally wrote.  Jeesh.  Pay attention, Joanna.)

That's Strawberry Hill somewhat far above, Walpole's magnificent Gothic madness.  To the left and slightly above is an entirely unrelated set of Matisse goldfish.

Elsewhere Walpole says,

"You may get your pond ready as soon as you please; the gold fish swarm: Mr. Bentley carried a dozen to town t'other day in a decanter.
You would be entertained with our fishing; instead of nets and rods and lines and worms, we use nothing but a pail and a basin and a tea-strainer, which I persuade my neighbours is the Chinese method."

It's not impossible your goldfish -- if you have one -- is descended from the adventurous fish of Walpole's pond at Strawberry Hill.

By the Regency, goldfish were a commonplace in the parlor, kept in goldfish  bowls that looked exactly like the modern variety.  Goldfish seem to have made 'unexceptional', affectionate presents.

In Maria Edgeworth's novel, Belinda, goldfish are sent to an invalid. -- "I have  some gold fish, which you know cannot make the least noise: may I send them to her?"

This picture to the right is Kitty Fisher, Eighteenth Century courtesan, with goldfish bowl and cat.

Developing on the courtesan theme, below Kitty is the courtesan Wakamurasaki playing with a goldfish.  

Folks tended to moralize about the whole 'gold' thing.  In Thomas Gray's poem, The Cat and the Gold Fish, the poor cat falls into the goldfish vase:

No master came, no servant stirr'd;
Nor cruel Tom, nor Susan heard :
A fav'rite has no friend!

Learn hence, ye fair ones, undeceiv'd,
False steps are hard to be retriev'd,
And be with caution bold.

Not all that tempts your wand'ring eyes,
And heedless hearts, is lawful prize;
Nor all that glisters gold.

In Regency England, if you weren't lucky enough to be gifted with goldfish, you might buy your own from the itinerant goldfish peddler.  The Regency was a great time for merchandise coming to you instead of t'other way round. 

In the interests of providing a full audio-visual experience, I'm going to wander far afield from the Regency and bring in Debussy's piano piece, Poisson d'or. 

Poisson d'or -- 'Goldfish', of course.   Debussy's work was inspired by this particular lacquer artwork here to the right.  It hung in his study. 

You can listen to Poisson d'or here.  That's Magda Tagliaferro playing, and she's 92.

Debussy used to call the times when inspiration ran dry, his 'factory of  nothingness."

While you're listening to that goldfish music . . .

I became interested in the question of Regency and French Revolutionary goldfish, (allow me to pause while I rid my mind of the image of small revolutionary fish carrying banners,) because, in my book, The Forbidden Rose, my heroine keeps fish.
Well . . . she kept fish.

In this scene her chateau has been burned and looted, and naturally no one thinks about the fish in a situation like this.  It's always the innocent fish that suffer.

***** ***

He stood, looking formidable. Behind him, dawn curved like a shell.

The wide granite pool was white as the moon.  It was cold as the moon when she dipped her hand beneath the surface of the reflection. “Will you tell me what you plan to do with me? I am naturally curious.”

“We’ll talk about it when we’re on the road. I want to get away from here. Soap.” LeBreton laid it beside the towels.  A metal box of soft and greasy-looking soap. “Probably not what you’re used to.”

“It is lovely. Thank you.”

“Don’t get any in the pool.”

Fish were poisoned by soap. She liked it that LeBreton knew that, and cared. It is in such small things that men reveal themselves.

Goldfish came and nibbled at her fingers. She had named them all when she was a child. Moses—because he parted the waters—and Blondine and fat, lazy Rousseau.  Once the noisy Jacobin riffraff took themselves off, Mayor Leclerc would come from the village with tubs to steal her fish for his own pond. He had coveted them for many years.  She hoped he would hurry. They should not be neglected in this fashion.

. . . (and later) . . .

She wore nothing at all. It was strange to be unclothed under the open sky. 

Her reflection looked up at her from the fish basin, more pale than the sky, rippling in the circles that spread where fish came to lip at the surface. The rim of the basin was gritty under her, with little puddles in every unevenness. The wind of the new day scraped her skin like a dull knife. She put her feet in the water. The slippery film of mud at the bottom of the pool crept up between her toes.

Cold. Immeasurably cold.

Quickly, before she lost her courage, she wet half the towel, rubbed water down her arms, over her stomach, hissing every breath in and out. Then up and down her thighs. She washed every scratch, every cut. There was not one of them without a sting. It was not helpful to remind herself that she was the descendent of warriors.

Moses and Rousseau and the other great rulers of the pool held themselves aloof, but many small fish came to nibble at her calves and ankles and the knuckles of her hands with little bites, like kittens.

*****  ***

Author anecdote here:  My aunt had a goldfish named Moses who lived in a big ornamental pond behind her house.  He used to come up to the top and blow bubbles when she rang a bell.  When you write your own books you get to name the fictional goldfish after goldfish you have known personally.

Anyhow . . . While goldfish were swimming happily about in English drawing rooms in 1730-ish, they didn't arrive in America till about a century later.  They showed up sometime in the early years of the Nineteenth Century.  No one knows just when.  Actress Fanny Kemble recounts finding goldfish in a pool at a florists in New York in the 1830s.

Which brings us at last to the vexatious question of goldfish versus koi. 
The cagematch.

Koi to the left.  Goldfish to the right.   

Both goldfish and koi were bred from wild carp populations.  
Goldfish started out in China, a thousand years ago.  Koi arose from a different breed of carp, in Japan, in the mid Nineteenth Century. 

Koi are Johnnies-come-lately.  No Regency koi, alas.

Since I cannot resist talking about koi anyway:  The Japanese word 'koi' means simply 'carp'.  What we call koi the Japanese call 'nishikigoi'.  'Brocaded carp'. 
By chance, the Japanese word, 'koi', is a homophone  for another word that means 'affection' or 'love'.  Koi are therefore symbols of love and friendship in Japan.

In celebration of the goldfishes Blondine, Rousseau and Moses, I'll be giving away a copy of either The Forbidden Rose or the trade paperback of Spymaster's Lady, (your choice,) to one lucky poster in the comment trail.

So -- what pet should the Romance heroine, (or hero,) keep?  Monkey, hedgehog, ferret, hummingbird?  Maybe an attack dog?

Comments

[Meoskop]

I thought the best line I'd see tonight would be on Mad Men. I was wrong.

"Goldfish tend to be called 'goldfish'. "

That is some hilariously powerful branding. I laughed while I read this, I thought of all the ping pong bowls in all the fairs of my life during the bit about goldfish longevity. Poor things - from gifts between the wealthy to items to swallow and thump about in ziploc bags.

I think I'm going to buy my kids a fishtank. Now where to put it. No, I think we'll just snorkel. But no goldfish!! It's a problem. Hm. (The local outdoor mall keeps putting koi in all the ponds. It keeps the egrets happy and the mall owners frustrated.)

[Maureen]

I had never thought much about goldfish or their history so I had no idea they were a carp. When my children were younger they each received a goldfish from our church fair. This did not make me happy as we already had a dog and cat and I was not interested in trying to keep goldfish safe. My husband brought the children to the pet store where we purchased everything needed to care for the fish. As I expected, they did not live long which is why I much prefer a dog or cat but at home and in my stories.

[Jane O]

When my grandson was about four, he ended up with three goldfish whom he named Melchior, Balthazar and Caspar for the Three Kings. He liked the names.

Unfortunately, the fish didn't last long.

Fortunately, his interest in names and words has persisted.

[theo]

I love this post! I've kept goldfish over the years. Sometimes singularly in a bowl, sometimes in my tank. When I'm angry or upset, I sit in front of them and watch them swim. Lovely motion. Something I am destined never to do for I don't even get my face wet in the shower. (One would have to drown as a child and be fortunate enough to come back in order to appreciate the whole 'I never get my face wet if I can help it' thing)

I'm still trying to talk my DH into a fish pond in our yard. We have an acre so have the room. We'd have to heat is because the Michigan winters would be hard on them. I fear feeding the hawks would become too expensive though, so I shall read about them vicariously through you! :o)

[Janga]

My parents had a small goldfish pond that was home to a long-lived company whose names changed as each grandchild reached the Adamic naming stage. The fish remained happily oblivious to their nominal recreation. (And I'm happy to have the goldfish-koi difference explained.)

I think Knox, the mysogynistic parrot, pet of the hero in Jo's Forbidden Magic, is one of the most memorable fictional pets I've met. I'd love to see a heroine with a misandric parrot.

[LouisaCornell]

Fascinating, Joanna! Another bit for my research notebook. I have five acres of mostly wooded land and I would love to have a pond in my front garden. Wonder if I can persuade the nephew to engineer one for me on his next holiday from university.

I seem to have pets in all of my manuscripts. A shoe stealing rabbit named Percival features in my first novel and he is making a return in my fourth. A three-legged hedgehog appears in my second manuscript. His name is Dash because he bites everyone, but as he belongs to a child those he bites can't say "damn" when he bites - hence his name. My third manuscript has a very old very large English mastiff named Bounder in it. And my newest WIP has the return of Percival and a heroine who keeps reptiles, including a very large Burmese python named Shiva who accidentally "ties up" the hero.

I think any pet adds to a romance novel so long as it is period correct and fun!

[Joanna Bourne]

Hi mesokop --

Five or six years ago I bought a little goldfish in my local pet store. About one-joint-of-your-thumb-sized goldfish.

He was in a tank with a skillion other similarly small goldfish. And he cost 10 cents.

"How do you make money selling fish for ten cents?" says I.

"We sell a lot of them."

I called him 'Bait'.

Fastforward six years and I have this four-foot-long tank with ten inches of goldfish swimming in it. Every time he bumps the end of the tank it goes 'thump' in a manner that can be heard across the house.

And he's still growing.

"Hmmm," hmms I. "This has got to stop."

Now I could do what that hearty lady did in Born Free and when her lion cub outgrew the back yard, she moved to the bush where there were lions running lose so Elsa would be a happy lion.

I could move to a house with a huge pond. But I decided we would give up the fish instead of the house.

First I tried a famous botanical garden in Richmond. They said they didn't keep goldfish any more because the herons came and ate them out one by one yum yum yum and it was nice for the herons but not so cool for the fish.

Fortunately, I found a nice woman who has a big pond and her very own well-established goldfish.

I do not know what she does about herons and hawks. Maybe they just don't mess with her.

Anyhow, Bait went to live with her pack and became a member in good standing and high esteem and seems happily acclimated to the whole idea of not bumping his nose on the edge of a tank every minute and a half.

[Joanna Bourne]

Hi Maureen --

In keeping with my high standards of escapist literature, no animals will be harmed in the making of my stories.

The animals who have it hardest, it has always seemed to me, are the horses.

I think this is because writers are not necessarily 'horse people', so they may inadvertently set their horses galloping headlong for three miles across broken country, carrying double.

"Ouch," says I, on the horse's behalf.

Goldfish are not similarly mistreated because no one seems to have noticed they were around. I am sure there must be stories with goldfish in the parlour, but I cannot call any to mind.

[Joanna Bourne]

Hi Janga --

Knox. A wonderful parrot.

And didn't Sophie have a parrot in Heyer's The Grand Sophie? In Lightening That Lingers by Laura London there's an owl. I love that owl. And Uncommon Vows by Mary Jo has a falcon.

And then there's the hedgehog in Kinsale's Midsummer Moon.

[Linda Banche]

Ducks! My heroes and heroines should keep ducks! I love ducks. They're beautiful birds and they're big enough to see easily. I'll opt for geese or swans if no ducks are available, although geese and swans are a little big. But then, birds should stay outside, because we know what birds do a lot and we want to keep the house clean. *g*

[Joanna Bourne]

Hi Jane --

Part of the fun of having pets is you get to name them.

Though now that I think about it, I never do seem to have got to name a pet, pets in my vicinity being fairly durable and me having either a kid or a younger sibling around at all times.

Those are lovely names for fish. There's a ping between the Gift of Gold and goldfish, isn't there?

I wonder if some small part of the impetus to write comes from the desire to be 'Adamic' and name things.

[Joanna Bourne]

Hi Theo --

I do not know how hard it would be for goldfish to survive in Michigan. I will admit to standing in awe of anyone or anything that survives a Michigan winter.

But, if I recall correctly, Michigan is rather famous for its huge lake bass. Is that right? Surely if bass can flourish, goldfish would be able to.

As for hawks.

I am trying to remember what my aunt said about hawks in re her fishpond. She had a stone bridge to span over the little pond, which is apparently an irresistible impulse to those with little ponds.

If I had a pond I would immediately set about bruilding a bridge over it. An arched sort of bridge.

I think she said the fish hid under that bridge.

[Joanna Bourne]

Hi Louisa Cornell --

I'll admit to liking animals in a manuscript myself.

They give the character somebody to talk to when she's by herself, which takes all that out of Internal Monologue.

The first scene in Forbidden Rose is an example of that, also the scene where Jess is on the roof in My Lord and Spymaster.

Animals reveal the characters. Anneka's wariness of guard dogs in The Spymaster's Lady is because she's used to seeing them as adversaries when she goes aspying;
Jess spoiling her pet ferret in My Lord and Spymaster shows us she doesn't have many folks in her life to lavish spoiling upon;
Adrian coming to terms with stubborn donkeys in The Forbidden Rose is him learning patience.

And people just plain like pets. Everywhere. Always. It's human nature. It'd be a pity not to take this into account in building the fictive world.

[Joanna Bourne]

Hi Linda --

Ducks are good. Some are just startling beautiful. I used to go to Regents Park in London and we'd count a dozen different species of ducks in the water.

I think I'd keep chickens, myself. For the eggs, y'know. Or does that seem very cynical and self-serving? I have a friend who keeps chickens and they apparently have complex and fascinating social lives.

No geese though. Geese are big and mean.

[Scorpio M.]

How goldfish became the harbinger of bad news for my family.

My brother kept goldfish when I was growing up. The tank sat on a living room counter and I paid it no mind. Then one autumn day, a pair of goldfish that swam happily the day before ended up belly up. No one knew how it happened. A day or two later we received news that my grandfather had passed away unexpectedly (in another country), my mother believes til this day that the goldfish dying was a SIGN. We didn't keep any more goldfish after that because who wants to know bad news in advance? I don't relay this to be morbid but when would I ever get to talk about goldfish! :-)

I do adore pets in fiction, esp. dogs. I especially like it when the hero has a lot of affection for his pet. I guess in my mind it translates to a loving being.

[Patricia Rice]

Thank you for telling us why the topic of goldfish came up for research! You have the most delightful posts on things I've never known. I did know goldfish were carp and wondered why they didn't grow up to be koi. Now I know. That, and the goldfish bowls are too small.

Around here, fish in ponds are victims of raccoons. We've resisted adding fish to ours.

Although the book I'm currently working on contains parrots. An attack parrot would be fun, but his owners would probably spend a great deal of time hunting him down after guests chased him out the door, so I refrained.

Maybe I should write fantasy where fish fight the raccoons and parrots come when called. But I love your pet goldfish idea!

[Louis]

Our kids had goldfish when they were young...none of which lasted very long. When I was young (more years ago than I care to remember) I fished in overflow ponds of the North Canadian River...caught about a foot long carp once...my Mom cooked it for me*...tasted good.

[Isobel Carr]

Wonderful post! I had a magnificent bronze Oranda named Menemeth (after one the dragons of Pern) in college. When it came time to move back home (3K miles away), I gave him to my godmother’s daughter. And I grew up with koi that were trained to come and eat from your hand when she slapped the water. Boy do they get HUGE.

I love pets in books, but so far I’ve shied away from giving my characters crazy, exotic, or unusual ones (though I’m always tempted to do so). And seeing as I’m a dog person myself (the bigger the better, as I’m always telling my dinky little 150 lb mastiff), large dogs tend to be what show up in my books. There was an Italian mastiff in my first two books, and there’s a “mongrel mastiff” (basically a bullmastiff) in the one I just turned in.

[Kierstin Fure]

I love ferrets and goldfish. I grew up with a huge aquarium of goldfish in my room, and loved them very much.
Although I've always wanted a ferret as a pet. I enjoyed Lisa Kleypas heroine Cat from the Hathaway series having a ferret as a pet.
Jo- I love your fun history of goldfish! Enlightening and fun at the same time.:)

[Kierstin Fure]

And silly me Jessamyn had a ferret also. *grin*

[Joanna Bourne]

Hi Scorpio --

Goldfish as harbingers of doom . . .

Well, after all, why shouldn't goldfish be part of the family legend . . .

"Eh. Achh," muttered the ancient family retainer as he humped my bag up the last stair to the crumbling East Tower of Stark Castle. "There's them as would tell ye to turn and run, Miss. Aye."

"I do not pay heed to such superstitions."

But in truth, chills ran up my spine like mice doing a 2.5 kilometer run, each carrying a small cold drinking bottle in a neoprene sleeve.

"The Stark family guldfish are restless tonight. Thrice, they circled their bowl. And they wilna eat." He shook his head gloomily. "Na even tha mealworms."

He dropped my bag on the hearthrug and stared at me from under great bristling eyebrows, veritable woolly caterpillars of eyebrows, if the caterpillars were albino ones and it was going to be a bad winter. "Beware, Missy. Beware when tha Stark guldfish splash a' midnight."

As he limped off, it occurred to me that the whole Starkist Curse seemed a bit fishy.

[Joanna Bourne]

Hi Pat --

Parrots. How utterly cool. When I lived in West Africa they had the most beautiful parrots.

And little tiny kingfisher birds. You'd be swimming in the pool and lie back for a bit to look out over the landscape and kingfishers would start diving into the other end.

I never found out what they thought was in there.

As to the raccoons . . .
it had not previously occurred to me what danger-filled and precarious lives fish live. Raccoons AND herons. Probably ducks too.

On the other hand, goldfish never have to calculate the Alternate Minimum Tax so it probably all works out on some cosmic scale someplace.

[Chelsea B.]

Interesting post!
Parrots would be an interesting pet in a romance book. They could definitely be a comic relief, that's for sure! :-) Though a monkey would also be pretty cool LOL ;-)

[Joanna Bourne]

Hi Louis --

After all, carp were cultivated for millennia for being tasty before they got spiffied up and valued for their beauty. I am sure there is a moral in that somewhere.

Carp were esteemed in the Regency period as fine eating.
The Cook's dictionary, http://tinyurl.com/2al7qk8
lists dozens of ways to prepare them. Carp with Caper Sauce, Carp au Committaire, Carp a la Chambord, and Carp a la Daube which involves cooking it with a pint of champagne . . .
adding a pint of champagne is always a good idea when in doubt.

[maryjoputney]

Finally, an answer to the great mystery of the absence of goldfish in Shakespeare's work! I have been -pining- to know, lo! this age.

Critters of all sorts are great fun. I have a photo of the Mayhem consultant being chased by a black swan. He being a city boy, he hadn't actually grasped the nuances of the fact that wild animals are--well--WILD!

I'll have to tell him of the restless Starkian goldfish. *g*

[Joanna Bourne]

Hi Isobel --

I am delighted to see dogs in books. It is so historically authentic.

Dogs are everywhere in Georgian- and Regency- period paintings. See the people sitting in the park, taking an ice at Gunter's, stopping to watch a puppet show, meeting the stage coach, and you will see their dogs.

For writers and their dogs you can look at
http://tiny.cc/j0yjg
There is just something for everybody on the web.

A large mixed-breed dog, Tiny, makes a brief appearance in The Spymaster's Lady. I enjoyed writing him.

And I need a dog in the current manuscript as well. I haven't settled on what he'll be. Something large. Mastiffs, like yours, are 100% historically accurate. Or I could do another large mix.

I think he's going to be named 'Fluffy'.

[Joanna Bourne]

Hi Kierstin Fure --

A literary ferret I love is Freddie in Judith Ivory's The Proposition. Lovely book. Beautiful characterization of the animal.

And there's a pair of ferrets in the movie The Beastmaster.
I just loved the little critters in that movie. They stole the show. Petty theft, actually, but I loved the ferrets.

The movie is based, reeeeeaallly loosely, on Andre Norton's book of the same name. I read that so long ago -- but I'm pretty sure Norton had meercats rather than ferrets.

The stories, of course, are totally unrelated.
I hope Ms Norton got lots of money when they made the movie.

[Joanna Bourne]

Hi Chelsea --

The funny things, the book I mentioned above --The Grand Sophie has both a monkey and a parrot. The Kleypas book Tempt Me at Twilight -- Am I right about this? -- does too.

Oh. OH. I just remembered this. The Forbidden Rose has a monkey in it.

“You have found me. You have been nimble and clever as . . . well . . . as a monkey. Wait, I will find a nut for you. Let me look. Shhh.”

There were no nuts or raisins in her bedchamber, but there were anise comfits in a Limoges box on her bureau. Nico loved them.

“These cannot possibly be good for you. I have told you time and time again.”

But he played upon her sympathies skillfully, and in the end she gave him three. He popped two in his mouth, one in each cheek, and became silent as an apple. He held the third tightly in the hand that was not clinging to her.

“You were afraid out there in the dark, alone, .pauvre petit. But now you are safe. Tomorrow you will go back in your home.”

He wore a red jacket, bright as cherries, with tiny gold epaulettes and the red, blue, and white cockade of the Revolution upon his chest. The jacket draped long about him, with a slit in back so his tail could move freely.

“You are looking very fine, are you not? And patriotic. I do not know what it says of our life in Paris today that the sight of a monkey wearing the symbol of the Revolution seems perfectly rational.”

[Joanna Bourne]

Swans are big, mean animals. I wouldn't want to mess with them.

Do the swans on the Thames all belong to the Queen? Do they go swanning about, proud of the royal patronage?

Geese I would also avoid. They're famous guard birds. You will be unsurprised that geese have guarded the Ballantine Scotch warehouse since the late 50s.
http://tiny.cc/qq4cg

[deniz]

I really enjoy reading your posts Jo - all that winding and weaving through all these paths of information I'd never thought to follow; had no idea that goldfish were carp!
For what it's worth, my father-in-law has a koi pond in his backyard; there is a heater, and with that they manage to survive our Canadian winters...

"I wonder if some small part of the impetus to write comes from the desire to be 'Adamic' and name things."
Now that's interesting - I have to say I get a lot of joy out of discovering the names of all my creatures and characters and finding out which towns and villages they'll travel to, and which streets they'll live on...

Does it make a difference that JK Rowling already used the name Fluffy for a Cerberus-like dog in the first Harry Potter book?

Love your mini scene of goldfish as portents!

[Joanna Bourne]

Hi Deniz --

(jo waves)

I am really annoyed at JK who has taken three tiny things I wanted to use and put them into one of her books and now I can't use them.

Rats.

Ok. Not Fluffy. Maybe in December I'll hold a contest over on my blog and let folks help me out in the naming department.

Did you notice in that portrait above the Courtesan Kitty Fisher has a kitty fishing? So much historical pun, eh what?

[Kanchb]

What a lovely post Joanna- you pulled me right into it and normally, I am not the least bit interested in any fish, unless its for my dinner (I am not being cheeky - honest!)

I've always wanted to keep a Peacock as a pet, never mind their horrid screech, but just for how lovely their tail feathers are and how iridescent the male animals look. So, that's what I would bestow upon my heroine, if I ever wrote a book :)

[Isobel Carr]

Kitty fisher, with her kitty fishing is a great image. Do you own The Face in the Corner? It's a wonderful little book of portraits put out by The National Portrait Gallery in London that focuses on the pets in period portraits.

A great "fluffy" breed that is period is the Newfoundland. I grew up with them, so I'm happy to provide insight and back story. My godmother's Newf Gladstone was a a HOOT!

[Nicola Cornick]

Isobel, I have The Face in the Corner as I became very interested in animals in portraits when I was researching a painting we have at Ashdown House. It's a fascinating book, isn't it.

And Joanna, a super blog piece. Thank you!

[Christine]

I love to read your blog posts- the pictures are always wonderful and add so much to the points you are making.

I have to confess I am not a big fish person, I love four feet and fur. My absolute favorite of course is "The Kedger" from My Lord and Spymaster. What a wonderful pet and very important to the story!

The part with the monkey in "Forbidden Rose" was great too. I love when poor Maggie puts her head in her hands and discovers she no longer smells like Doyle, she smells like monkey. It felt like just the last straw for her at that point.

I also loved that the donkeys were named Dulce and Decorum! Sweet and proper it is! And a nice "spy" joke too! Can we assume witty Doyle named them? It sounds like him :0)

[Dee Feagin]

What a delightful post! I never knew much about goldfish other than each one I got seemed to be destined to die in my bowl rather rapidly--not even a name yet-- until I finally admitted defeat and gave up on the whole idea.

My H/H would have to have a dog because no other animal can communicate their needs/wants as well. As evidence, I have a Chow/Terrier/? companion that wakes me in the morning with whines, growls, and other throaty comments. I can tell by the tenor of her voice how serious she is about getting me up.

[Joanna Bourne]

Hi Kanchb --

I have never thought much about owning a peacock. They seem amiable enough.

One could have the heroine wake up one morning and find every tailfeather of her beloved pet has been plucked out. Who? How? Why?

It turns out . . .

[Joanna Bourne]

Hi Isobel --

My spies in the house at Meeks Street keep a big dog on the premises. Not for ferocious attack, but to be a disincentive to anyone who might be inclined to break in.

I think, going over this in my mind, that they generally end up with a mixed breed.

In the 1800 time frame, ISTM, this sort of mix would be the result of two pure-bred lines, there not being many large mongrels about.

Half Newfie sounds good. The other half . . . something else large.

Now I have to come up with a story for my own mind how he came to exist.

[Joanna Bourne]

Hi Christine --

Yes. That was Doyle. His somewhat grim humor.

Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori from the Roman poet Horace.

I am quite fond of Kedger. That's Rengency street slang for a beggar.

[Joanna Bourne]

Hi Dee --

I have a very sweet Collie/something mix.

She's so patient. When she figures it's time for me to get up she comes and sits by my bed and stares at me and WAITS.
Who can sleep with a dog watching them?

If she's really impatient she just dots me with her nose.

Dot.

[theo]

Joanna, I love the too-big-for-his-tank goldfish! I must admit, I'm a bit surprised though. Generally, goldfish as well as many other fish species emit a chemical that prohibits their growth to accommodate their surroundings. His growing so large is unique, but I'm glad you found him a good home :o)

As for our Large Mouth Bass and such, most of the really huge fish we have live in the Great Lakes which never freeze. Those that don't, live in larger lakes that might freeze on top, but only the first four to six inches. The problem with any kind of pond in the yard is that I could never dig it deep enough to keep it from freezing completely. So, I'd have to heat it.

I do have a friend who brings hers in for the winter, but that's too much for me.

And one of the hawks that circles our yard (we haven't had a rabbit for months!) will land and chase down his prey on foot, as if it's a game. Makes me think a bridge wouldn't be a deterrent to him, but it's worth a try :o)

[Isobel Carr]

Pretty much everything was mixed breed or "type" in the Georgian era (for example, Springer Spaniels and Cocker Spaniels came out of the same litters, and were divided up by size and use). Often, what really made something a recognizable type/breed was that it was bred by a specific person, or in a specific location, or for a specific purpose.

There are lots of famous Newfs, including Byron’s Boatswain (who, like all the ones of the Georgian era, is black and white). If you look at period images (maybe I’ll do a post about them over on History Hoydens to go with my Mastiff post), few if any look like a modern Newf. The closest I’ve seen is the one belonging to the Duchess of York (she was painted with her dogs in 1810). That one at least is the right size and the head is shaped right (big and blocky).

[Joanna Bourne]

Hi Theo --

The Paris municipal parks system keeps goldfish in a lot of the ponds and pools all over the city.

In the fall, they come and scoop them out with big nets -- some of these are sizeable fish -- and bring them to a site in Boulogne-Billancourt just outside the city where there is a big deep pool and let them spend the winter there.

I know this because the wintering pond was right down the street from where I lived.

This was a huge 'working garden' space with greenhouses and machinery, bedding plants in pots, compost piles and repair shops. We weren't supposed to go in there, of course, but I'd always take the girlchild for a walk through on our general peregrinations.

We'd stop and say hello to the teeming myriads of fish over-wintering there.

[Joanna Bourne]

Hi Isobel --

I want to have a period-authentic dog. Something big and sturdy. But it's just a walk-on part, so I'm likely to just describe him and not mention the kind of dog he is.
Knowing is just for my own satisfaction.

I've seen pictures of period Newfies. I was so surprised at how different they are from today's.

Regency dogs would be a lovely and useful topic. *g*

[Elisa]

Such a fun post, as always!!

My elementary school in Pennsylvania had a deep cistern-like pool with goldfish. I remember it freezing nearly solid one cold winter, but the shadowy fish-shapes were still moving in the bottom few unfrozen inches.

I'd imagine insurance companies would never permit water that deep around small children these days....but I'll never forget the strangeness of that sight.

[Joanna Bourne]

Hi Elisa --

It sounds both beautiful and eerie.

How do fish get air under the ice, anyway?

Do they just hold their breath all winter?
Or what?

You can see why my life is filled with that sense of one-piece-missing-from-the-jigsaw-puzzle-ness.

I worry about these things.

For instance . . . I have been sitting here pondering why one would have a deep cistern-like pool with goldfish. In Pennsylvania. At a school.

An emergency water reservoir? A bit of left-over well? A pool installer who misheard 'yards' when someone said 'feet'? Heffalump trap? Meteoric impact crater?

[Meoskop]

I wonder far too much about such things as well. But The Curse of The Fish? I may have snorted.

(I pretended to sneeze.)

Now I want to install a fish pond (the HOA will Not Approve) and tell people I'm raising birds.

[Jo Beverley]

What a great post, Joanna. I, too, hadn't thought about the humble goldfish.

Jo

[Joanna Bourne]

Hi Meoskop --

Exactly. When I plant tomatoes or strawberries or prune the apple trees, I am actually raising squirrels.

They know this. They sit in the trees and laugh at me.

[Joanna Bourne]

Hi Jo,

I, too, am puzzled that goldfish never show up in the parlours of Regency heroines.

But, they're quiet, y'know. Maybe they've been there all along and I just didn't notice them.

I'm told goldfish get brighter colours if they are kept in the sun. Maybe all the heroines have to do is move the bowls closer to the window.

[Kanchb]

Hi Jo

Actually peacocks are the most amiable of birds, if they are left alone. I spent my childhood in India and have lovely memories of chasing them and collecting the tail feathers but then my mum wouldnt let me bring the feathers into the house 'cause it would represent bringing the evil eye inside.

I loved the image you brought to my minds' eye of the heroine waking up and discovering the tail-feathers gone..and I am indeed wracking my brains to figure out the why behind it (the milliner - too obvious, the local witch - too unlikely.. but then who?)

[Joanna Bourne]

You are so lucky to have two cultures within you. Two ways of seeing the world.

If I were plotting a peacock-feather snatch, I would be looking for something that created conflict between the male and female protagonist. If I could, I'd want to make the heist in some way symbolic of the underlying conflict.

Is our heroine too protective of the 'outer show' of wealth? Of her vanity? Does the loss of this showy tail parallel some other loss that she must deal with?

I didn't know peacock feathers might represent something unlucky. How interesting.