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Canine Familiars of Masculinity in Three Brontė Novels
Ben P. Robertson

The death of Prince Albert in 1861 was a shock to England, especially since the Prince Consort was only forty-two years old. As Elisabeth Darby and Nicola Smith note in their discussion of memorials to Albert, the sad event was followed by a period of mourning during which “the nation threw itself unhesitatingly into the gestures of grief” (1). Those gestures of grief included a “profusion of monuments” in honor of Queen Victoria’s late husband. One of the most notable of those monuments was the sculpture of Albert that the Queen commissioned for his cenotaph in the Albert Memorial Chapel at Windsor Castle. Interestingly, the sculpture includes the figure of a dog, recumbent at Albert’s feet. This dog represents Albert’s favorite hound, Eos, who died in 1844. The sculptor’s decision to include Eos in a statue that was created nearly twenty years after the dog’s death is strong evidence of Albert’s attachment to the animal and of the public’s knowledge of this devotion. Eos was female, and her fidelity to Albert often was used symbolically in paintings and sculptures to represent Queen Victoria’s fidelity to her husband. Not surprisingly, dogs appear as images of fidelity in three novels—Wuthering Heights, Agnes Grey, and Jane Eyre—which the Brontė sisters published in 1847, only three years after Eos’s death. The three sisters admired Victoria and the fidelity that Eos symbolized. However, the dog images in these three novels are not mere novelistic restatements of Eos’s role in depictions of Victoria and Albert. The Brontės’ novels are about common women in a patriarchal society in which the authors themselves published their works under male pseudonyms. Consequently, these women are depicted, unlike Victoria, as having little power. Since the symbolism of the dogs in these three novels cannot parallel that of Eos, the Brontės use them as symbols of masculine power. The women in these three novels attempt to gain symbolic power through the existing patriarchy either by subjecting male dogs to feminine control or by supplanting male dogs as symbols of masculine control.

To understand how the Brontė sisters modified the existing dog symbolism associated with the royal family, one must be aware of the nineteenth-century anxiety that surrounded Victoria’s role as both Queen and wife. The pervading view of women in general during the Victorian Age made the Queen’s dual role problematic. As the monarch, she would wield great power, but no one could forget that she also was a woman, and, later, a wife. According to John Ruskin, an important critic and social reformer of the time, woman’s “true place and power” was in the home—a place to which the Queen of the British Empire could not be expected to confine herself (87). Ruskin’s 1864 lecture “Of Queen’s Gardens” makes it clear that a married woman should maintain “true wifely subjection” to the man who “guard[ed]” her from the perils and trials of everyday life (86-7). The consequence of this philosophy was that women, according to Richard Altick, became “second-class citizens” no matter what their social rank (57). However, when Victoria ascended the throne, she assumed one of the most powerful roles in England—that of Queen—and her marriage to Prince Albert in 1840 further complicated her role because she became a wife. In Royal Representations, Margaret Homans discusses Victoria’s unique position at length, commenting that her marriage “both enabled and complicated her impersonation of the woman her nation needed her to be” (4). Artists of the time had difficulty deciding how to represent Victoria and Albert in their paintings and sculptures to acknowledge this dual role of powerful Queen and submissive wife. For many such artists, inclusion of the royal family’s dogs in their works proved quite helpful in resolving the dilemma. In 1845, for example, Edwin Landseer completed a painting called Windsor Castle in Modern Times and managed to capture Victoria’s duality through Albert’s dog. In a discussion of this painting, Susan Casteras emphasizes the “simple domesticity” of the scene (22). Margaret Homans concurs but suggests further that the dog between Albert’s legs represents “phallic dominance” and that Albert’s sitting in Victoria’s presence places him in a husband’s role since ordinarily “none may sit in the Queen’s presence” (28-9). However, the dog Albert caresses presumably is his favorite dog, Eos, who died while the painting was being completed. Eos was female, so her role as a symbol of masculinity is problematic. More logically, one can consider this female dog to be a symbol of Victoria herself or, more specifically, of Victoria’s fidelity to Albert. Thus, Landseer manages to capture Victoria’s dual role as Queen and wife by painting her standing, towering above Albert, and by painting Albert sitting with the faithful Eos at his feet. The paradox of representing a wife who is Queen resolves itself through the symbolic fidelity of the dog.

Undoubtedly, the anxiety of Victoria’s dual role and the fidelity of Eos for her master became topics of conversation at the Brontė house in Haworth. As Winifred Gérin comments in her biography of Emily, “No item of national news . . . ever escaped the curious attention of the Brontė children” (22). Certainly, both Victoria’s role as Queen/wife and Eos were parts of the news, and in any case, the Brontė sisters took a special interest in Victoria and her court. Gérin notes that the Queen was the “first ‘symbol’ of feminine power” Emily encountered (21). Furthermore, Emily and Anne incorporated Victoria in their imaginary kingdom of Gondal. Given this interest in Victoria and her household, the sisters certainly were aware of Prince Albert’s favorite dog Eos. After all, the Brontės were devoted animal lovers, and Gérin notes that they had a variety of pets at different times, including dogs, cats, ponies, donkeys, birds (wild and tame), and even some of “the hidden denizens of the moors” (Charlotte 86). Additionally, all three sisters—and Emily in particular—were quite fond of their dog, Keeper, who actually was allowed to enter the house on occasion. Emily’s loving watercolor painting of Keeper taking a nap, reproduced in Alexander and Sellars’s The Art of the Brontės, attests to the high regard in which she held the animal (380). In fact, Keeper became so much a part of the household that when Emily died, he attended her funeral, actually sitting in the pew with the rest of the family (Gérin, Anne 297). Considering this devotion to animals and the Brontės’ awareness of national news, the sisters undoubtedly had at least some knowledge of Eos and of her role as a symbol of fidelity in depictions that acknowledged the Queen’s dual nature.

The Brontės, however, did not use the dog image in the same way in Wuthering Heights, Agnes Grey, and Jane Eyre that their contemporaries had done in nonliterary artistic representations of Victoria and Albert. Eos was female, but the most important dogs in these three novels are male, echoing the gender of the Brontės’ own dog, Keeper. The dogs in these novels represent the “phallic dominance” that Margaret Homans sees in the Landseer painting. These dogs mirror Eos’s fidelity, but the Brontės permutate that fidelity into the loyalty of a male dog for a male master. Therefore, the Brontės’ dog images are symbols of masculine power. In essence, each dog acts as an attendant spirit, or familiar, to his male master. Although the word, familiar, is associated with witches, the term is appropriate in this case since a witch’s familiar would act as an extension of that person’s supernatural power in the same way that the dogs act as extensions of their masters’ masculine power. Furthermore, the negative connotations of the word, familiar, are appropriate since the male power that these dogs symbolize is repressive—and, therefore, negative—toward the women in the novels. Of course, the Brontė sisters undoubtedly would object to the association of their novels with witchcraft of any kind, but the model of the familiar is useful in understanding the permutation of the dog image. After all, these dogs are quite different from their nonfictional predecessor, Eos.

In Emily Brontė’s Wuthering Heights, this symbolic use of dogs as familiars of masculine power appears quite early in the novel, although none of the female characters is able either to supplant or to control any of the dogs. At the beginning of the text, Mr. Lockwood describes his first visit to Wuthering Heights, the dwelling of his landlord Mr. Heathcliff. Among his first impressions of the house and its inhabitants, he notices that a number of dogs haunt the various recesses of the room, and he actually uses the verb “haunted” to describe their presence (3). Brontė’s apt use of this image of haunting to describe the dogs is appropriate particularly since these dogs are acting as familiars to a male character. They are extensions of their master, acting as symbolic representations of his power. When Lockwood finds himself alone with them, he notices their “jealous guardianship over all [his] movements” (5). In this case, they extend Heathcliff’s ability to keep his guest under surveillance, allowing the man himself to be absent from the room. This strong connection between the master and his dogs is further strengthened by Heathcliff’s being described as a dog. Later in the text, for example, Lockwood has an altercation with Heathcliff and says that the man “gnashed at [him], and foamed like a mad dog” (160). The males in this novel cultivate their relationships with their dogs to solidify that symbolic extension of their power. Heathcliff, for example, tells Lockwood that his dogs “do right to be vigilant,” and in a later chapter, Hareton appears with a group of “canine followers” that attacks Catherine’s two dogs (6; 197). While these dogs are as faithful to their masters as Eos is to hers, these particular dogs do not at all represent the same kind of fidelity.

This shift in the symbolism of the dogs is apparent particularly in several scenes in which women are involved in some sort of power struggle. For example, when the younger Catherine decides to sneak out of the house near the end of the novel, she is fearful that the dogs will “raise an alarm” (285). This instance of Emily Brontė’s use of dogs is of utmost importance since the person potentially subjected to their surveillance in this case is female. As symbols of masculine power, the dogs again extend male influence over the female. Catherine asserts her own will for power by sneaking away, but she must avoid alerting the canine familiars of the patriarchy. If the dogs become aware of the female’s flight, they will inform their master through their barking, thereby ensuring that Catherine’s bid for power will be resisted.

In terms of this resistance to a female’s attaining power, however, the most interesting dog image in this novel is that of Skulker. At one point, Nelly tells Lockwood about an incident in which young Heathcliff and Catherine Earnshaw are caught spying on the Lintons at Thrushcross Grange. When they are discovered, they flee, but the Lintons release their bulldog Skulker, to whom Heathcliff refers throughout his narration of the incident with masculine pronouns. The dog seizes Catherine’s ankle and refuses to release her. As his master’s familiar, this dog extends male power through more than surveillance by becoming a physical agent for the master as he chases and captures the child. Heathcliff utters “curses enough to annihilate any fiend in Christendom” and tries to make the dog release Catherine by thrusting a stone between its jaws (47). However, the dog has to be removed forcibly by one of the servants, who takes the two children into the house. The dog’s refusal to release the girl is evidence of his fidelity to his male master. Since the master is not present physically, the dog protects the patriarch’s domain (his house) to such an extent that he ignores Mr. Linton’s servant. Skulker’s fidelity is quite strong. As the servant and children approach the Grange, Mr. Linton calls, “What prey, Robert?”, and the servant responds, “Skulker has caught a little girl, sir.” Thus, the female Catherine has become “prey” to the dog, a symbol of masculine power. After Skulker’s attack, the Lintons evince more concern for the dog than they do for the bleeding Catherine. One of Mr. Linton’s first commands is, “Give Skulker some water, Jenny” (48). No one notices Catherine’s bleeding ankle until she calls attention to herself by laughing at the family’s examination of Heathcliff, whom they suspect is a thief. Again, the dog is a symbol of repressive masculine power as evidenced by the family’s solicitude for its well-being. Skulker is an extension of Mr. Linton’s masculine influence, and in the confrontation between Skulker and Catherine, the symbol of masculinity prevails. At the end of this encounter with Skulker, Catherine ends up pinching the dog’s nose as he eats (49). Unable to become a part of the masculine power structure either by controlling the dog or by supplanting him, she becomes an annoyance to the animal that symbolizes that power structure. Similar to Prince Albert’s Eos only in the degree of his fidelity, Skulker’s depiction is a masterful permutation of dog imagery on the part of Emily Brontė.

A similar power struggle occurs in Anne Brontė’s Agnes Grey, a short novel in which the title character tries to gain control over another male dog that symbolizes masculine power. However, like the female characters in Wuthering Heights, Agnes fails in her attempt to gain that power. The canine symbol of this power is the small dog named Snap. When Agnes obtains the “little rough terrier,” she refers to the animal as “him,” linking him with masculinity because of his gender (112). Although the dog’s presence in the text is quite limited, one should not overlook his symbolic role in the plot. His presence in the novel is divided into two stages. In the first stage, he becomes Agnes’s dog, and Agnes attempts to control him, as a symbol of male power, by becoming a matriarchal figure who protects him and obtains his fidelity in return. Snap’s previous female master treated him badly, subjecting him to “many a harsh word and many a spiteful kick and pinch” (112). Agnes tries to rescue Snap from this mistreatment by claiming him as her own. However, her efforts are futile because after she claims Snap, the other characters in the novel still mistreat the dog. Specifically, her attempt to control a symbol of masculinity is thwarted by a human male. When Snap interrupts a tźte-ą-tźte between Miss Murray and Mr. Hatfield, he receives a “resounding thwack” on the skull from Hatfield’s cane (114). The man’s beating the dog is a symbolic punishment of Snap for having betrayed the patriarchy to become a woman’s dog. Furthermore, by its exposing Agnes’s inability to protect Snap from such pain, the punishment also obstructs Agnes’s attempt to gain power. When the dog runs “yelping back” to Agnes, his “clamorous outcry” gives the man “great amusement” because on some level—conscious or otherwise—Hatfield realizes exactly what he is doing (114-15). He is suppressing Agnes’s bid for control of a symbol of masculine power. Agnes makes a feeble attempt to rescue the animal from Hatfield, but she can do little. Her only recourse is to stoop to “caress the dog, with ostentatious pity to shew [her] disapproval” of the man’s severity (115). Despite Agnes’s efforts, she cannot become Snap’s protector. As a male dog, Snap is a symbol of the patriarchy—of male power. Since Agnes is a female in a patriarchal society, she cannot fill the role of the protector of a symbol of masculinity. Her attempt to do so is transgressive, and the consequence is punishment for the innocent dog. Eventually, Snap is “taken away” and given to the ratcatcher, who is known for his “brutal treatment of his canine slaves” (148). The masculine power structure simply cannot tolerate Agnes’s influence over the dog. The first stage of Snap’s presence in the novel thus ends with a reassertion of male dominance in the enslavement of the dog to the ratcatcher instead of the dog’s remaining under the protection of a woman.

The second stage of Snap’s presence in Agnes Grey simply reaffirms that male dominance. Although Agnes truly cannot become Snap’s protector, Mr. Weston attains that goal by the end of the novel. In the penultimate chapter, Agnes sees a “gentleman with a little dark speck of a dog running before him” on the beach (188). She does not realize that these two are Weston and Snap until the dog approaches her, “frisking and wriggling” at her feet (189). They are overjoyed to see each other, for the dog remembers Agnes as well as Weston does. Interestingly, at the end of this seaside encounter, Snap acts “a little doubtful” about whether he should follow Agnes or Weston (192). However, when Weston calls him, he follows his “new master.” The curate comments to Agnes, “I won’t offer to restore him to you, Miss Grey . . . because I like him” (192). Weston has co-opted this creature as his own familiar, extending his influence through the animal in an imperialist manner. He does not wish to restore the dog because he cannot willingly relinquish a symbol of masculinity to a woman. His decision maintains the existing patriarchal power structure, and the strong identification between the man and the animal are visible again in the final chapter, in which Agnes tells her mother, “I met an old friend on the sands to-day, mama” (193). Agnes conflates Weston and Snap into a single entity—”an old friend”—and does not separate the two until her mother asks whom she met. Snap is a clear symbol of the patriarchy and returns to patriarchal control. Ironically, Agnes is happy to see Snap with Weston, and she does not demand his return because she realizes that her attempts to control this symbol of masculinity will result simply in more punishment for the dog, damaging him permanently. After an abortive attempt to attain control over Snap, a symbol of masculine power, Agnes chooses to remain powerless so that the patriarchy will not destroy the symbolic dog. Weston recovers control, and the patriarchy remains intact. Once again, the symbolism of Albert’s Eos is transformed, and in this case, Anne Brontė tests Snap’s fidelity, finds it inadequate, and then restores that fidelity to the patriarchy much in the same way that Agnes places herself under masculine control through marriage at the end of the novel.

Finally, Charlotte Brontė’s Jane Eyre incorporates the same modified dog symbolism, but this novel is the most transgressive of the three. It includes the recurring presence of Pilot, a dog who acts as Mr. Rochester’s familiar and whose role is co-opted by Jane Eyre at the end of the novel. In all three of these Brontė novels, Jane is the only female character who is successful in her attempt to attain masculine power. In Jane Eyre, Rochester is identified with Pilot in the same way that Heathcliff and Weston are conflated with their dogs. For example, Brontė associates Rochester with Pilot one evening when Adčle gives Rochester a good-night kiss. Jane notices that Rochester endures the kiss but does not “relish it more than Pilot would have done, nor so much” (133). Later, in a discussion with Jane about Adčle’s parentage, Rochester says, “Pilot is more like me than she,” associating himself with the dog even further (151). The nature of the discussion—Adčle’s parentage—makes Rochester’s comment significant because it implies that Pilot is related to him much as a son would be. Pilot’s symbolism as an extension of Rochester’s male power is quite clear.

This connection between man and dog is visible starting with Rochester’s first appearance in the text. Jane meets him when his horse slips on a patch of ice not far from Thornfield Hall. Before she sees the man, however, she sees his dog. The first appearance of the black and white Pilot scares Jane because he reminds her of an English spirit called a Gytrash, which she remembers can take the form of a horse, mule, or large dog (117). Pilot’s ghostly appearance parallels that of his canine counterparts who haunt the recesses of Wuthering Heights and suggests that he acts as a familiar to Rochester. After Rochester’s accident, Pilot comes “bounding back” with a fidelity like that of Prince Albert’s Eos, and he goes to Jane (even though she is female) because she is the only help “at hand to summon” (118). Interestingly, after the encounter, Pilot follows Rochester instead of preceding him, as if the dog’s relationship with his master has been disrupted by Jane’s presence.

In fact, Pilot’s place has been disrupted because Jane begins to take his place as a symbol of male power. Several times, Rochester sends Pilot to play with Adčle while he talks with Jane. As Jane comments at one point, Adčle “was ordered to amuse herself with Pilot” (127). At this stage in the novel, Pilot retains his status as a symbol of masculine power. He is an extension of Rochester’s ability to keep Adčle under surveillance. However, when Rochester sends Adčle away with Pilot, he is essentially also placing the dog in the position of governess while Jane takes the dog’s place as the patriarchal male’s companion. Rochester laments, for example, that Pilot cannot talk as he explains to Jane why he wishes to converse with her one evening (139). However, Jane has not yet taken the dog’s place, for Pilot otherwise remains with Rochester all the time and even sleeps—much like the Brontės’ dog Keeper—outside his bedroom door when the kitchen door is left open so that he can gain access to the house (154). As the novel progresses, Pilot’s status as a symbol of masculine power wanes. For example, when Mr. Mason is wounded by Bertha in the attic, Rochester calls Jane to nurse him. An attic, as the uppermost part of a house, can be a symbol of thought and intellect, so Pilot’s absence and Jane’s presence in this scene with Rochester are significant. Rochester begins to accept Jane as a replacement for Pilot because he starts to view her as an intellectual equal (they share the attic space), unlike Pilot. Jane later hears Pilot barking “far below, out of his distant kennel in the courtyard” (222). His distance from Rochester indicates his waning influence as a symbol of masculinity.

By the end of the novel, Pilot has lost even more of his status. When Jane visits Rochester in the penultimate chapter, she finds Pilot lying “on one side, removed out of the way, and coiled up as if afraid of being inadvertently trodden on” (456). Although he is still Rochester’s companion, he now stays out of the man’s way, and his status as a symbol of masculinity has declined. Jane’s status, on the other hand, has increased. Pilot realizes the change, and instead of staying with his master, he follows Jane around the room. When Jane and Rochester go for a walk the next day, Pilot eventually abandons them. Jane notes surprisingly that the dog has “actually gone home to his dinner” and left the two people alone (470). At this point in the text, Jane effectively has supplanted Pilot as a symbol of masculine power. Moments later, Rochester gives Jane his watch, further transferring symbolic masculinity to her. She even becomes his “vision” and his “right hand” since he is now blind (475). She has succeeded in replacing Pilot as Rochester’s familiar, so this novel is the most transgressive of the three under discussion. The image of the faithful female Eos appears in a modified form as Pilot, who is faithful to his male master, but Pilot himself, as a symbol of masculinity, is replaced by Jane.

Clearly, the male dog images in Wuthering Heights, Agnes Grey, and Jane Eyre are symbolic of repressive masculine power which the female characters resist. These dogs, among whom are Skulker, Snap, and Pilot, act as attendant spirits, or familiars, to their male masters. In effect, each dog becomes an extension of his master’s male power in terms of surveillance and even physical presence. The female characters in these novels attempt, with varying degrees of success, to control or to replace part of that power. Catherine Earnshaw fails completely in Wuthering Heights, and Agnes Grey ultimately does not succeed either. Jane Eyre, however, manages to attain her goal, actually supplanting Pilot as Mr. Rochester’s familiar—his symbol of male power. Thus, the Brontė sisters explore the issues of power and gender in their society by transforming the female fidelity of Prince Albert’s Eos, inflecting that symbolism toward a representation of male power which unconventionally minded women wish to possess or to supplant.

Works Cited

Alexander, Christine and Jane Sellars. The Art of the Brontės. Cambridge: Cambridge University
      Press, 1995.

Altick, Richard D. Victorian People and Ideas. New York: Norton, 1973.

Brontė, Anne. Agnes Grey. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1988.

Brontė, Charlotte. Jane Eyre. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1980.

Brontė, Emily. Wuthering Heights. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1976.

Casteras, Susan P. Images of Victorian Womanhood in English Art. Rutherford, NJ: Fairleigh
       Dickinson, 1987.       
 

Darby, Elisabeth and Nicola Smith. The Cult of the Prince Consort. New Haven: Yale
      University Press, 1983.

Gérin, Winifred. Anne Brontė. London: Nelson, 1959.

---. Charlotte Brontė: The Evolution of Genius. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1967.

---. Emily Brontė: A Biography. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1971.

Homans, Margaret. Royal Representations: Queen Victoria and British Culture, 1837-1876.
      Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1998.

Ruskin, John.  “Lilies:   Of Queen’s Gardens.”  Sesame and Lilies; Unto This Last; The Queen of
      the Air; The Storm Cloud of the Nineteenth Century.  Boston:  Colonial Press, n.d.  76-105.

 

Works Consulted

James, Robert Rhodes. Prince Albert: A Biography. New York: Knopf, 1984.

Marshall, Dorothy. The Life and Times of Victoria. New York: Praeger, 1974.

Weintraub, Stanley. Victoria: An Intimate Biography. New York: Truman Talley, 1987.

Woodham-Smith, Cecil. Queen Victoria: From Her Birth to the Death of the Prince Consort.
      New York: Knopf, 1972.

 

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