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Fall 2022

Where Are You Mama?: The Role of Motherhood in the Victorian

Novel
Sophia Mary Tighe
Bard College

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Where Are You Mama?: The Role of Motherhood in the Victorian Novel

Senior Project Submitted to

The Division of Languages and Literature
of Bard College

by

Sophia Tighe

Annandale-on-Hudson, New York

December 2022
Dedication

I would like to dedicate this paper to my mother, Marcia Coné, who taught me what it meant to
be a strong woman, and a critical thinker.
Acknowledgements

I cannot express enough gratitude for my advisor Daniel Williams for guiding me
through this paper. His knowledge of Victorian literature has not only aided in writing this paper,
but has also influenced my academic interests within the literature department greatly.

Additionally, I would like to thank Jonathan Enciso, and Billy Pool-Harris: who have
been my largest supporters during the course of this project. Thank you for allowing me spaces
to write, and to share my triumphs and frustrations. Thank you for also supporting me as an
athlete simultaneously. This year of writing has been no small task, and your countless words of
encouragement will not be forgotten.
 TABLE OF CONTENTS

Introduction……………………………………………………………………………………1
Motherhood Without the Mother…………………………………………………………….12
Curtain-Up: Role-Playing in Moore’s A Mummer’s Wife……………………………………34
Conclusion……………………………………………………………………………………60
Works Cited…………………………………………………………………………………..66
 1

INTRODUCTION

How This Research Came About

My own work came about entirely by chance. Initially when I started my project, I did

not think it would be about the role of motherhood in the Victorian novel. Instead, I thought it

would be about female friendships in such novels—a continuation of the argument that had been

held in the literature community on the sexual or platonic nature of these friendships. Moreover,

the pre-existing discourse, which I read in a tutorial on woman, sex, and gender in the 19th

century, such as Sharon Marcus’s Between Women (whose argument is that female relationships

in 19th-century Britain were pivotal as their sexual nature including “female marriages”), was not

completely convincing. I had always felt like there was more to these female relationships than

just friendship or sex. With this hypothesis initially in mind, I sought after my first novel—which

you will hear about in the first chapter—Desperate Remedies (1871) written by Thomas Hardy.

Although the female friendship I was hoping to find was in fact there, it was different than I had

previously imagined. It was, in its own right, initially sexual—or at least more touchy than you

would expect from a normal relationship. That being said, the intimate nature of said

relationships felt maternal rather than sexual—this is where my Senior Project began.

The discovery of my second novel, A Mummer’s Wife (1885) by Irish author George

Moore, was just as much by chance as the first. At first, I was hoping to find another sensation

novel, one perhaps written by Wilkie Collins or Mary Braddon. Therefore, I went to Stevenson

Library here at Bard College in the hopes of reading a few of these works to see if they piqued

my interest. While wandering through the Victorian literature aisles on the fourth floor, a spine

of one novel for some reason caught my eye. It was titled A Mummer’s Wife. Bringing all six

books back to my carrel, the mysterious dark green novel was the only one I felt spoke to my
 2

project, and to what I wanted to accomplish after having written chapter one—examining

motherhood as a category of female friendship. Upon further research, I realized that not only

was it chance that the novel had been perfectly suited to the topic, it was also perfectly fitted to a

second line of comparison with Chapter One. Both works are relatively unheard of in

comparison to other novels of the time, and other works written by each author. Although similar

in their discussions of motherhood, the novels could not be any more different: Cytherea, the

protagonist of Desperate Remedies, does not at any point play the mother or become it; it is Ms.

Aldclyffe, her employer, who takes on these maternal roles. A Mummer’s Wife, on the other

hand, shows a woman—Kate—who constantly fails as a mother due to her lack of interest in the

role. However, these differences allowed for a brand-new argument for my second chapter,

which, similarly to the main thread of discourse in my writing for chapter one, was unthought of

until having to confront my feeling towards Moore’s novel. This new hypothesis was that—

being a mother was a role rather than a state of being.

The story of my research and the writing it has produced is one of chance. It is a clear

example of when taking a leap of faith pays off, and it is a reminder to never assume what you

are arguing before you begin your research. A paper that once was meant to feed into the

discourse on the significance of female friendship, has now grown into an exploration of

motherhood and its necessity for inclusion within the Victorian novel. My research therefore

raises the question, why examine the role of the Victorian mother through the novel? Moreover,

why is fulfilling the image or the role of the perfect Victorian mother feel necessary to the

women in these two novels?

 3

The Role of Maternal in the 19th-Century Novel

In examining motherhood, the difficulties of the project began. How does one write about

something they have not experienced? How does one write about a type of motherhood that no

longer exists? Moreover, why examine the role of the Victorian mother through the novel, rather

than through a more historical lens? To these questions I respond: a great deal of research has

been conducted in an attempt to clarify what was the expectation for mothers at the time.

Primary texts such as Sarah Stickney Ellis’s conduct books—including The Mothers of

England—played a large contribution in creating the image I allude to as “the Victorian mother.”

In addition to considering how the image of a mother was produced in the 19th century, it was

essential to the project to recognize that both novels’ maternal characters—Ms. Aldclyffe and

Kate—are not mothers. They are, in Ms. Aldclyffe’s case, a friend who acts like a surrogate, or

like Kate, “failed” mothers, as both attempt to play the role of mother although it is never fully

acquired. Therefore, I argue, that the image of Victorian motherhood pressured women to

become mothers, whether or not they actually had children. These social pressures show how a

maternal figure is necessary in the 19th-century novel in order to guide the protagonist, or to

provide a cautionary tale on the consequences of not fully realizing the image of the Victorian

mother.

The importance of marriage and motherhood, as stated by Kathryn Hughes, was essential

to the lives of young women:

a young girl was not expected to focus too obviously on finding a husband. Being

‘forward’ in the company of men suggested a worrying sexual appetite. Women were

assumed to desire marriage because it allowed them to become mothers rather than to

pursue sexual or emotional satisfaction (Hughes).

 4

Even though the women described in these novels are not the Victorian definition of a mother,

they still lived under the same circumstances as any other woman, where becoming a mother was

the most important function a woman could have. Strangely, although Desperate Remedies and A

Mummer’s Wife show two very different women’s attraction to motherhood, their characters still

have the need to mother and to nurture those in their life: Ms. Aldclyffe guides Cytherea

maternally, and Kate has a child and a husband whom she does not know how to care for

properly. This may be their natural maternal instincts, or as I argue, “For a woman not to become

a mother meant she was liable to be labelled inadequate, a failure or in some way abnormal”

(BBC History Trails). Therefore, these women are trying to find relationships in which they can

perform the role that they have been tasked by society to do—be a mother.

Due to great class divides between the two novels (Hardy focusing on the middle and

upper-middle classes, and Moore on the working class), each novel provides its own account of

motherhood. These class descriptions are far different to what is presented in the writing of Sarah

Ellis, as both Ms. Aldclyffe and Kate go through individual struggles that are unique to their

social standings. In the working-class context, Kate’s knowledge on how to be a mother—

although not present—is necessary to the survival of her baby, and for her to keep the role of

mother. As expected, given the difficult living and working conditions of the working class in

England, “Despite the attention given to the child, life expectancy was low and in the poorer

districts, 20% died before the age of one, with 25% deceased by the age of five” (Malheiro).

These numbers are largely contributed by the laborious industries of British towns, that forced

young children into unsafe conditions. In Kate’s case, being from northern England made this

outcome quite likely. As historian Carol Dyhouse remarks, “Openings for women's work were

plentiful in the pottery,” which was “the area distinguished by the higher infant mortality rates”
 5

(Dyhouse 252). Since living and working conditions were atrocious in the factories, many people

suffered from asthma and potter’s lung. Therefore, for the working class, the role of being a

mother was not only in producing the child, but also in keeping the child alive and having to

keep herself and her husband alive as well.

Due to high infant mortality rates in Victorian Britain, economic incentives were also

given to families with newborn children. Dyhouse remarks that certain towns such as

Huddersfield would distribute “promissory notes to newly-delivered women, offering them a one

pound reward if their babies should live to see their first birthday. The reverse side of these

promissory notes was printed with instructions and advice on infant hygiene and feeding” (249).

Motherhood for the working class was, then, not only a form of reproductive labour.1 It had the

ability to contribute to a family’s monetary situation as well. These incentives however, did not

majorly change the infant mortality rate. It is the creation of these economic incentives that

indicate that Victorian women were unable to properly care for their children, as mothers were

both expected domestic and public laborers. Due to the necessity of working in order to survive,

and the expectation for mothers to be able to spend hours in the potteries and have the time to

learn how to properly be a mother and care for their child was unrealistic. As Dyhouse explains,

there were schools for mothers that were given grants to teach classes. Considering that their

participant mothers were workers it is no surprise that, “This was the kind of activity that many

institutions had quickly discovered to be one of the least satisfactory aspects of their work,” as

women were unable to attend due to the tediousness of a sit-down course. Given the pre-existing

constraints of the working-class context, Kate’s ability to learn to be a successful mother in A

Mummer’s Wife, is hindered greatly because she does not have the time or feel the responsibility

1
Reproductive labor, in feminist theory, is the unwaged work woman must undergo in order to have and
care for children, as well as maintain her family (Exploring Economics).
 6

to learn how to role-play. The role of mother in the working class is typically not a performative

role, but rather a full-time job which requires learning how to role-play in addition to working in

order for it to be successful.

Being in the upper class, Ms. Aldclyffe, although only a friend who provides maternal

nurturing, has a less hands-on role in motherhood. For her, being a mother is a role she gets to

play but does not feel the same responsibilities as someone from the working class. This can be

seen specifically when Cytherea is to be married, as Ms. Aldclyffe creates a match that is blinded

by her own guilt from her murky past. As elaborated on by Ian Ousby, her interference with the

young woman’s relationship goes so far as arson:

Miss Aldclyffe threatens Springrove with her power over her father. Some buildings

adjacent to the Three Tranters Inn have burnt down and she has the right to require that

they be rebuilt at the farmer’s expense; if Edward agrees to leave the field clear for

Manston's courtship of Cytherea the penalty will not be exacted (221).

This characterization of Ms. Aldclyffe taking on the responsibility of a mother, differs greatly

than that of a normal mother of the Victorian era, as their main concern was inheriting property

and financial security for their children (Ousby).

As I will later explain, although different, Ms. Aldclyffe does, at times, mirror the

absence of a normal mother as she disappears from the novel for quite some time. Unlike

Desperate Remedies, the absence of the 19th-century mother in the upper class was often due to

staff members such as the governess, who fulfilled most of the maternal responsibilities after

birth. By looking at other portrayals of motherhood in the upper class through novels such as

Agnes Grey by Anne Brontë, we can see that a governess was essential to the household as she

allowed mothers to play their roles less intensely. This is because it was the governess who was
 7

meant “to educate pupils (usually girls) in a range of ‘accomplishments’ ranging from reading to

drawing,” and therefore, “Governesses became increasing popular through the Victorian era for

both the upper and middle-classes” (Tylka).

In the novel Agnes Grey, Anne Brontë presents the role of the governess as synonymous

with being a mother, because she sees the children more than their actual mother does. She must

not only teach them in subjects such as English, but also take care of them throughout the day in

different activities, such as going on walks or escorting them to church. This maternal care was

expected to continue as the children grew up and developed into adults, as Agnes is still expected

to be present as Rosalie, the eldest child, enters into society. Otherwise, men who wished to

marry Rosalie could take advantage of her if no adult was around to protect her. The role of the

governess as maternal protector is explicitly stated when Agnes explains to Rosalie that “your

mama thinks you ought not to go beyond the park or garden without some discreet, matronly

person like me to accompany you” (103) in order to keep her safe. In this instance, the role of

Agnes is to become a second mother, who in reality performs more of a maternal role than the

children’s actual mother. In addition to the protector role that Agnes plays, her role as mother

can also be seen in the trust Rosalie has for her. Throughout the novel, Rosalie speaks of her

most intimate dreams and romantic feelings towards Mr. Hatfield—emotions that she would not

dare to tell her mother as she knows her feelings will not be respected. Agnes, on the other hand,

will keep Rosalie’s secrets to herself and not share what Rosalie has told her in confidence, both

because she cares for the young girl and also because she could risk losing her employment if her

mother found out. It is moments such as these that exemplify the importance of the governess in

the upper class: they are not only employees of these families, but also these children’s first and
 8

often closest maternal figure. As the governess fulfills these roles, mothers in this societal

position are allowed to be less present and have a more distant role in their child’s upbringing.

Similarly to their presence in many literary works, the presence of a governess in the

19th-century household was not rare: “The 1851 Census revealed that 25,000 women earned their

living teaching and caring for other women’s children” (Hughes). This data reaffirms the notion

that the upper-class Victorian mother did not actually have to play the role of a mother in the

same way a working-class woman would have. She did not need to focus on teaching the child,

caring for the child, or even introducing them into society’s standards. Instead, as Hughes states,

“The governess was expected to look after her pupils’ moral education too. As well as reading

the Bible and saying prayers with them, she was to set a good example of modest, moral

behavior.” In having another woman play the tedious role of mother, their actual mother was

able to play the role of woman in the house, who took credit for the governess’s work. In

considering the role of the governess to how mother and daughters interacted within the upper-

class, it is then no surprise that Ms. Aldclyffe and Cytherea are able to have their own maternal

surrogate relationship as Cytherea grew up in a middle-class family, and due to her mother’s

death, would have been used to another woman coming in to play the role of mother.

Stepping away from class, it is certain that a maternal figure is required in the novel as

these surrogate friendships and quests for motherhood do exist in two very different literary texts

written both in the late 19th century. The image of the maternal figure in Victorian texts raises the

question: why are mothers all that important? In Desperate Remedies the role of the mother

indicates Ms. Aldclyffe is needed to guide Cytherea on the right path, to show her right from

wrong, and to have her be married as any proper Victorian woman would have. In the case of A

Mummer’s Wife, however, Moore’s novelistic depiction of Kate’s lack of motherhood is used as
 9

a cautionary tale. Her slow descent into madness through her failed marriages, and the death of

her daughter due to her lack of maternal instincts, indicate that Moore believes in order for

woman to have a successful life, they must first be successful wives and mothers.

Both Hardy and Moore’s depictions of motherhood are also interesting given that both

authors are men. I do not care to argue that male writers are not entitled to create

characterizations of woman; I confess Hardy’s Tess of the D’Urbervilles is one of my favorite

novels. However, it is with these male-written female protagonists that we must also be careful

when analyzing the texts in terms of their depiction of women and overall meaning as both

authors’ novels are somewhat experimental for their time. The experimental nature of these

novels is attributed to two factors: they are both authors’ first books, and both of the novels were

examples of new genres of writing.

Desperate Remedies is a sensation novel,2 which uses themes such as adultery and the

supernatural within the plot. As Desperate Remedies was Hardy’s first novel, as well as his only

novel within the short-lived genre of the sensation novel, his themes border the lines of

promiscuous. We will come across many critics, in the 19th century and more recently, who

cannot overlook the sexual tension they feel between Cytherea and Ms. Aldclyffe. At the same

time, it is when reading Hardy’s work that major plot holes are discovered, as certain facts such

as people’s locations change frequently throughout the novel. Although these gaps can be largely

attributed to this being Hardy’s first novel and the possibility that it would not get published, one

cannot ignore that the sensation genre also allowed for confrontation between social expectations

such as monogamy, and the novel that presents adultery.

2
The sensation novel is a British genre that can be attributed only to novels written between the 1860s to
the 1870s. These novels often contrast realism greatly as they focus on themes, such as madness, that
were not acceptable or regarded highly by Victorian standards. Other examples of the sensation novel
include Jane Eyre, East Lynne, and Armadale (Rubery).
 10

On the other hand, Moore’s writing is what some, such as Joellen Masters, call the

beginning of British naturalism, a genre that aims to represent life in its most vivid and

legitimate form. As previously mentioned, his novel becomes a cautionary tale on what happens

when the role of the mother is not fulfilled. Although Moore’s novel does not fall within the

conventional time frame of the sensation novel, as it was published in 1885, he does incorporate

sensationalist themes in to his writing: for example, Kate’s adultery towards her first husband,

and her madness later in the novel. Additionally, Moore refers to Jane Eyre, showing that he is

aware of the cross-genre work his novel is doing. In directly referencing the sensation novel,

Moore presents his awareness towards the work his own writing is doing as it uses the

frightening qualities of the sensation genre in order to enhance his own cautionary tale—to

embrace motherhood or succumb to madness.

It is with the acknowledgment of both authors’ experimental writing that we must, as this

project aims to do, use Stephen Best and Sharon Marcus’s idea of “surface reading.” Implicit

reading or “symptomatic reading asserts that ‘what a text means lies in what it does not say,

which can then be used to rewrite the text in terms of a master code’” (3). Implicit reading is then

problematic as assuming an author’s intention allows readers to overlook what is on the page,

rather than focusing on the author’s writing. It is exactly this that we must stay away from, as it

allows readers to be blinded by their own expectations of queer Victorian relationships, for

example, rather than noticing the actual dialogue and textual representation that might indicate

otherwise. An example of this is critics focusing on the “quasi-sexual” scene between Ms.

Aldclyffe and Cythera, rather than recognizing it as the clear maternal moment it is, since the

older woman directly asks Cythera to acknowledge her as “mamma” (85). By reading implicitly

rather than explicitly (reading what we want to imagine versus what is written on the page)
 11

reading, the reader often misses out on essential themes in hopes of finding something that caters

to what we want the book to be about. Therefore, we must push against our instincts to read in

between the lines in order to read these texts properly. As Best and Marcus note, “Those who

want to continue using some version of symptomatic reading differ from one another in the

degree of their willingness to stay inside texts” (6). It is necessary however, that we all

understand these novels and further the relationships in them in the most explicit and literal way.

By explicitly reading these 19th-century novels, the need for these maternal relationships

becomes apparent, as it they are integrated by their authors in dialogue and thematic in order to

guide the story for the main protagonist. It is essential to consider Marcus’s method of “just

reading” that she uses in Chapter Two of her book Between Women—the precursor to Best and

Marcus’s “surface reading”—when reading this project as it is the lens through which I have

looked at these novels, and will hopefully allow for a clearer understanding of my argument.
 12

MOTHERHOOD WITHOUT THE MOTHER: SURROGATE FRIENDSHIPS IN

HARDY’S DESPERATE REMEDIES

Why didn’t you tell me there was danger? Why didn’t you warn me? Ladies know what to
guard against, because they read novels that teach them of these tricks; but I never had
the chance of discovering in that way, and you did not help me.

—Thomas Hardy Tess of the D’Urbervilles, 95

Introduction

In Thomas Hardy’s Tess of the D’Urbervilles (1891), the title character Tess Durbeyfield

has just returned home from the D’Urberville estate, where she has attempted to claim kin only

to be raped by her cousin Alec D’Urberville. Needing guidance, she confesses to her mother

what happened, and the latter simply states she should have been more careful with Alec “if you

didn’t mean to get him to make you his wife” (95). Tess’s confrontational response demonstrates

a perplexing relationship between a daughter who desperately needs a motherly figure, and a

mother who has blamed her child for making mistakes. Tess essentially claims she is motherless

as she has no guidance or maternal figure to support her through life’s twists and turns. The lack

of a mother raises a question for Tess and readers alike: if one does not have a mother, what does

one have to replace it? Tess can either have a mother or novels that might “teach” her “of these

tricks,” Hardy seems to suggest. If a novel could replace a motherly figure in Tess’s life, what

novels could she have read to teach her what a supportive mother would have?

In this chapter, I will posit that one prominent category of the female friendship in the

Victorian novel involves something close to a motherly bond. In certain cases, characters have

what I will call surrogate friendships. The surrogate friendship is one in which friends without

any familial connection can fill the role of parental, and specifically maternal figures. With this

idea of the surrogate friendship in mind, we could include one of Hardy’s own novels amongst

those Tess could have read to find a sense of guidance in the absence of an effective mother.
 13

Although Tess of the D’Urbervilles was first published in 1891 near the end of Hardy’s

novelistic career, it would perhaps would have been useful for Tess to look at Hardy’s first

novel, Desperate Remedies (1871), which shows a young woman who is actually motherless and

enters into a surrogate friendship. The novel takes place in a similar Victorian time frame to Tess

of the D’Urberville’s narrative and would have been able to provide Tess with examples of

motherly relationships that keep the same relationship dynamics and social conduct she would

have been accustomed to. This novel would additionally be helpful to Tess because the maternal,

nurturing relationship is not seen between a mother and a daughter, but between an upper-class

woman and her lady’s-maid, which would show Tess that she has other options for maternal

comfort that are not her own mother. By delving into the maternal relationship within Desperate

Remedies to explore how far it would have been able to provide Tess with the maternal

relationship she longed to have with her own mother, I argue that the novel offers one powerful

model of female friendship—the surrogate friendship—that provides a sense of guidance for

young developing women in 19th-century Britain. To show the extent to which surrogate

friendships provide guidance for the novel’s protagonist, I will first present how the characters

themselves create and sustain their relationships. Secondly, I will argue that the mode in which

the novel is structured—the appearance and disappearance of the maternal character—follows a

typical maternal pattern for the era, allowing for a stronger connection between the pair fueling

the surrogate friendship.

Surrogate Friendship at the Level of Characters

Having someone in the motherly role is essential to a young female novelistic protagonist

in the Victorian era, as they provide guidance through their story and life. The importance of the

maternal figure is presented in Desperate Remedies through the characters of Cytherea and Ms.
 14

Aldclyffe. Desperate Remedies begins with Cytherea and her brother Owen going through

financial struggles after her father passes, leading her to find work as a lady’s maid. Their mother

had passed in recent years as well, leaving both of the children as orphans. Due to the pair’s

financial struggles, Cytherea puts out advertisements to find work, and accepts a post to be a

lady’s-maid for Ms. Aldclyffe, a single middle-aged woman living with only her father and

servants at their estate, Knapwater House. Although there is hesitation and discomfort at the

beginning of their relationship, they quickly grow close and form a friendship in which Ms.

Aldclyffe guides Cytherea through her love life and as a young woman stepping into society.

Through their early conversations we also learn that Ms. Aldclyffe had an affair with the younger

woman’s father when she herself was younger. This only reinforces the maternal relationship

that the pair share: had things been different, Ms. Aldclyffe could have been Cytherea’s actual

mother. This strange thought experiment concerning a life manqué recalls what the critic Andrew

H. Miller calls the “life unlived” in literature: the life we wanted to have lived but never had the

opportunity to, such that one now must accept that this life “is what life is” (106), and that we do

not receive a second life or its opportunities. Contrary to Miller’s beliefs, Cytherea is actually

able to attain the life she has never had, one with a mother and parental guidance. Moreover, in

the context of Hardy’s novel, both women must realize that, in Miller’s terms, they have been

“separate together in the place where they’ve been together, and their past is present all around

them” (111), meaning that their presence in each other’s lives is not only a way to live the “life

unlived,” but their relationship seems already created by these preplaced connections. The idea

of what could have been only strengthens the need to be a part of each other’s lives, as both Mrs.

Aldclyffe and Cytherea do not want to continue to live in a childless or motherless life,

especially considering Cytherea is an orphan and looking for parental guidance. Their nurturing
 15

relationship further grows as Cytherea begins to have suitors and the conversation of marriage

becomes serious. For example, she marries Mr. Manston, a young man from London whom Ms.

Aldclyffe finds through a work advertisement posted at the Society of Architecture. Although

Mr. Manston and Cytherea both forcefully fall in love through the persistence of Ms. Aldclyffe,

he already has a wife, and therefore has placed her in an unlawful, bigamous marriage, “actions,”

that “were serious enough affairs to provoke public prosecutions, a rarity for bigamy cases”

(Frost 299). Additionally, in the case of Mr. Manston, he would have succumb to “Judges,” that

“were unstinting in their criticism of men who wandered about the country, seducing young

women either for carnal pleasure or money” (Frost 299). As the mother figure, Ms. Aldclyffe

fixes the situation she created by removing Cytherea from the relationship and speaking to Mr.

Manston about his failure to uphold the promises of protecting and caring for her that he had

given Ms. Aldclyffe prior to their engagement. Sadly at the end of the novel, Ms. Aldclyffe

passes away and therefore her surrogate friendships and motherly presence with Cytherea are

terminated. In the last few pages of the novel however, Cytherea ends up marrying her main love

interest Mr. Springrove after having spent the entire novel in love with him. This union, although

having taken the entire novel to reach, does show that maternal assistance is always right: Ms.

Aldclyffe tells her “Love’s passions shall rock thee” (84), meaning that true love always imprints

itself the deepest.

A motherly relationship can be seen as soon as the pair’s initial meeting when readers are

shown Ms. Aldclyffe’s desire for deep connection with Cytherea. Although one might not

assume there are motherly and caring aspects to their conversation, it is when Ms. Aldclyffe is

alone in this brief moment of Cytherea’s absence during their conversation that we understand

the desire she has to be close to her. Hardy reports her thoughts directly:
 16

It is almost worth while to be bored with instructing her in order to have a creature who

could glide round my luxurious indolent body in that manner, and look at me in that

way—I warrant how light her fingers are upon one’s head and neck... What a silly modest

young thing she is, to go away so suddenly as that! (Hardy 56)

The direct and rather stark image of the “creature who could glide” (56), and the fingers around

one’s head and neck seem to present a violent and evil tone to her thoughts. Indeed, these images

were usually read as sexual or violent by contemporaneous reviewers who found the novel,

“disagreeable, inasmuch as it is full of crimes,” as an anonymous reviewer put it in the

Athenaeum in 1871, and complained that it included “no display of passion except of the brute

kind,” as another reviewer for the Spectator put it (Cox 3, 6). The kindling for these unpleasant

reviews may have been the suggestion of Cytherea apparently choking Ms. Aldclyffe. The

passage’s focus on Cytherea’s body implies a sexual undertone: it seems that Ms. Aldclyffe is

objectifying her. In my explicit reading of this scene, the images carry a different tone, showing

she has a longing for closeness and the nurturing she wishes to provide to Cytherea.

For instance, the gliding abilities of the “creature” would suggest Cytherea is a snake.

Initially, our instincts may lead one to assume that the snake alludes to the story of Adam and

Eve. Instead, I believe Hardy is trying to highlight the transformative nature that Cytherea and

Ms. Aldclyffe’s relationship may have. The transformation of their relationship can be seen

through many different lenses. Arguably the largest transformation is the discovery of one

another. Later on we learn that Ms. Aldclyffe was Cytherea’s father’s mistress, and their initial

meeting as adults is one that begins the shift in both of their lives. In the real world, it is not often

that we understand when someone is going to have a significant impact on our lives. However,

Hardy uses the snake to show readers the characters’ subconscious and ultimately to foreshadow
 17

their emotional connection. The transformative nature of the snake also indicates Ms. Aldclyffe’s

ability to shift into a motherly role. This shift only further reveals the transformative nature of

Cytherea as her presence has the ability to transform others in ways that were previously

unknown to them. The snake was an image for a transformative figure in Victorian culture, even

if it was often seen as a representation of the evil woman rather than the expected and praised

“angel of the house,” as Nina Auerbach notes. This is important as Cytherea then becomes

transgressive, a sense of evil on the predetermined right and wrong of Victorian society as she

does not fall in to the common orphan trope of 19th-century literature. Auerbach writes:

These serpent-women, terrestrial cousins of the hybrid mermaid in their

secret self-transformations, their power over social life and its laws, exude

a power that withers patriarchs: George Eliot’s lamailike Roasmond and Gwendolen,

Tennyson’s Vivien, Sheridan Leann’s Carmilla, all find their greatest triumph in

displacing male authorities. (Auerbach 8)

Auerbach further adds to the idea that the snake has the ability to change the social climate

around them. In considering that a normal lady’s-maid would not have had the ability to get so

emotionally close to or cared for by her mistress. Therefore, her power as the serpent creature

only becomes more powerful as not only does she have the ability to change Ms. Aldclyffe’s

emotions, but also to change the social structures around her. This in turn, aids her in having a

motherly and tender relationship with the older woman. With Auerbach’s reading of the snake in

mind, I would argue that in this moment Ms. Aldclyffe is not lusting over or sexualizing

Cytherea, but rather uncovers a deeper respect for her ability to be an individual who does not

shy away from being true to herself. Ms. Aldclyffe understands the importance this young

woman will have on her life as she already has changed after only having spent a few moments
 18

with her. Therefore, Hardy’s snake in this instance is not a sexual, lustful creature as in the story

of Adam and Eve. Rather, it is empowered, and can change the predetermined confinements of

social life which is far more than most women were able to do in the 19th century.

In focusing on the head and neck imagery there are two key texts that will help explain

why this imagery is not sexual, but maternal. To begin, let us look at the work of Sappho,

specifically due to its popularity in Victorian era which can be seen through books such as

Victorian Sappho by literary critic Yopie Prins. In her writing, Prins delves into the earliest

attempts to reconstruct Sappho’s fragments which date back to the 19th century as she argues that

the Sappho we know today is much credited to Victorian poets (3).3 Thomas Hardy was an

admirer of Sappho’s work: as he wrote in a letter to Florence Henniker, “I have just made myself

a present of Wharton’s Sappho,” “How I love her” (Thomas 129). His love and inspiration may

come as no surprise as the name Cytherea appears in the translation of Henry Wharton’s Sappho

published in 1885 (Thomas 133). Additionally, many of her poems mention the head and the

neck that often emphasize the neck as rather fragile and light:

For many crowns of violets

and roses
] at my side you put on

and many woven garlands

made of flowers
around your soft throat. (Carson 185)

This image creates an entirely separate idea from the violent one that is implied in the initial

reading of Ms. Aldclyffe’s dialogue. In Sappho’s description, one imagines the beauty of the

neck, a delicate part of our body that must be adorned with flowers and other beautiful things.

3
Sappho’s popularity in literature became its own genre known as Victorian Sapphism, that, in addition to
translating and building off Sappho’s imagery, also critiqued other nations, such as France’s iterations of Sapphism
(Marcus 253).
 19

Further on in Hardy’s novel, we learn that the neck is sacred: Ms. Aldclyffe wears a necklace

that few of her maids have ever been able to see, Hardy’s version of Sappho’s “braided rosebuds,

dill and crocus.” When Cytherea discovers this necklace, she replies,

Few of my maids discover that I wear it always. I generally keep it a secret—not that it

matters much. But I was careless with you, and seemed to want to tell you. You win me

to make confidences. (Hardy 71)

In this moment three things become evident. First, Ms. Aldclyffe’s trust is unconscious (“seemed

to want”), as if she is even unable to explain her emotional connection with Cytherea. This

further proves the transformative nature of Cytherea. Second, the neck is important to her as she

keeps one of her most prized possessions on it at all times, and it is not something she lets

everyone see. Theirs is an instantaneous bond, similar to one of a mother and a child who has

just left the womb. From that first cry of a child (or in their case first conversation) there was a

trust and a connection that is both unexplainable and inseparable.

Another moment in Desperate Remedies that exposes the bond of surrogate friendship is

the notorious night scene where Ms. Aldclyffe enters Cytherea’s room, uninvited and

unexpected. Once she is allowed into her room, the two lie in bed and discuss her person and

Cytherea’s romantic interests. Quickly Ms. Aldclyffe demands a physical connection with her,

asking for a kiss. Although this may initially seem sexual considering the context we place on

kissing in today’s society, in the Victorian era, Ms. Aldclyffe asking for a kiss was not unnatural

for mothers. As explained in Sarah Ellis’s handbook The Mothers of England, which outlines the

rules and guidelines all Victorian mothers should follow to keep a proper household. In Ellis’s

account of motherly behavior she advises that a good mother should have her children’s utmost

respect and love: “happily for the mother, her children love her as she is. Her Kiss could not be
 20

more welcome” (Ellis 68). This is important to mention as similarly with their initial meeting,

many readers from both the Victorian Era and today consider this scene to be clearly sexual

rather than nurturing and motherly. Richard Sylvia suggests this is a “lesbian love scene” (Sylvia

102), and other critics agree about the “powerful erotic charge in Miss Aldclyffe 's words and

behaviour, coarsened by jealousy” (Roberts 53).

Although such accounts read the surface of the scene, I argue that it confirms that Ms.

Aldclyffe is fully transitioning into her motherly role. Even though she does ask for a kiss, she is

looking for something specific: “Why can’t you kiss me as I can kiss you” (80)? Had she been

looking solely for a sexual relationship, she would not have cared about the intention and

emotion behind the kiss, and instead would have been glad there was a sexual interaction with

Cytherea. Her hope was for a maternal kiss and not a sexual encounter with Cytherea, as she is

looking for reciprocity that would be more meaningful and reflect a sense of trust and

compassion similar to what a mother would have with her child. Within that conversation as

well, Ms. Aldclyffe loosens as she begins to naturally come into her motherly role, providing

Cytherea with advice, and wanting to know her feelings. She says, “Don’t you want to tell me

who Edward is” (82) and “Do, do tell—O, it makes me so miserable! But tell—come tell me”

(84), which demonstrates that she wants to know more about Cytherea and to know her deepest,

most innermost feelings. Furthermore, the interest that she has in Cytherea’s love life might be

confused as Roberts’s idea of jealousy rather than maternal care. This can be seen as the pair do

discuss her relationship with Mr. Springrove, however, it is in an inquisitive manner rather than

one of manipulation or anger. Therefore, there is a sense of hesitancy as Cytherea is not

confident in Ms. Aldclyffe’s motherly role at this point of the novel. Therefore, her emotional

and physical presence is bound to be more closed off than perhaps Ms. Aldclyffe would like it to
 21

be as she has already assumed a motherly role over her. Her hesitation towards Ms. Aldclyffe

could also provide reasoning to why readers often see Ms. Aldclyffe as a domineering woman, as

Cytherea is more reserved until she fully trusts the guidance given to her.

In this scene it is also important to consider Ms. Aldclyffe’s dialogue rather than her

seemingly sexual actions. Although it is clear she shares an interest in Cytherea’s life, she also

has already expressed her bond in other ways than asking to be kissed: “I love you better than

any man can. Do, Cythie; don’t let any man stand between us” (82). She uses a nickname for

Cytherea, which only further demonstrates the closeness that she desires as she skips all the usual

formalities one might have with their staff. One might continue to read such a statement along

the lines of critics like Catherine Neale, for whom the novel “deliberately lends expression to

sexual impulse” (Neale 117), and therefore, feel as if a sexual reading of this passage is

necessary in expressing Hardy’s intention to push the boundaries of female sexual relations.

Contrary to Neale, I suggest that it is necessary to also consider that the female relationship was

not always sexual and to assume a sexual tone makes it nearly impossible to assign any other

meaning to a scene like this. Without sexual pressures imposed on the scene and more

specifically in her dialogue, one can see that the sense of losing Cytherea takes precedence in

these lines. The loss Ms. Aldclyffe feels is not that of losing a lover, as they have never been

lovers, but that of losing a child. She explicitly takes on a motherly role as she tells Cytherea to

“put your hair round your mamma’s neck and give me one good long kiss” (85). This is further

showcased as she does not state she could pleasure Cytherea more than any man, but instead love

her, which is an entirely separate sphere of a relationships as it does not require any physicality.

It is also important to consider these lines in the context of Victorian maternal relations, as

mothers had to give away their daughters to help manage the property of a man. Ellis believed
 22

that mothers should be “no advocate for mere love-matches, made without any regard to worldly

prudence” (Ellis 221). Therefore, as Ms. Aldclyffe and Cytherea consider her relationship to Mr.

Springrove, the statement: “don’t let any man stand between us” (82) suggests that even when

she is married and belongs to someone else, Ms. Aldclyffe wishes to keep their relationship

intact. This clarification on the terms of their relationship to Ms. Aldclyffe is extremely

important, as societal norms would separate her and her new-found daughter manqué. This

moment of dialogue acts as an example of how Ms. Aldclyffe’s words, when separated from the

reader’s pre-existing sexual speculations, are actually maternal, and display how deeply she cares

for her and Cytherea’s relationship.

In addition to the direct caring nature of Ms. Aldclyffe in this scene, motherhood or at

least a familial bond can be seen in the mirroring and attachment between Cytherea and herself.

This lineage between the two begins in the scene where Cytherea unveils to the reader that she

knows Ms. Aldclyffe was once her late father’s mistress: “She would wait till Ms. Aldclyffe

referred to her acquaintanceship and attachment to Cytherea's father in past times: then she

would tell her all she knew” (80).

This moment within the scene is important for a few reasons. The first being that

Cytherea acknowledges that Ms. Aldclyffe is by default a maternal figure, and furthermore, the

mother figure that she had been longing to have since her own mother passed away. To come to

this conclusion, one must consider her interaction with Owen prior to even meeting Ms.

Aldclyffe in which she states, “We were told not to try to find out anything about her. Papa never

told us her name did he” (16). From this dialogue, it is clear that she has an interest in her late

father’s romantic affairs, and that Ms. Aldclyffe could fill the role of the absent mother that she

longed to have. This moment is only intensified when considering Owen’s response to her
 23

questions in which he says “But never mind her, she was not our mother” (16). Although Owen

declares that Cytherea should not be interested in discovering this woman as she could never be

their mother, she still feels this woman’s presence in her life. This presence closely resembles

Andrew Miller’s idea of the life out of reach in his analysis of Gwendolyn Brooks’s poem The

Mother. In this poem, Brooks reckons with the loss of her child and explains that although they

are not here in body, they are in spirit: “believe me, I loved you all./ Believe me, I knew you”

(Miller 126). In this instance, Brooks becomes what I will call the mother manqué, the mother

that should have been. Cytherea feels this same motherly presence with Ms. Aldclyffe, as their

relationship is foreign and not yet in reach, however still familiar. This is perhaps why she is so

shocked when Ms. Aldclyffe assumes the motherly role as she had been told by Owen that their

relationship would never exist and therefore, Cytherea would never again have a mother or a

motherly presence in her life.

Earlier in the novel, readers are introduced to the relationship of Cytherea’s father and

Ms. Aldclyffe, which leads us to see the main similarity between the pair, their Christian names.

The novel clearly points out that our protagonist was named after Ms. Aldclyffe intentionally:

“Her Christian name was Cytherea, and it is easy to guess why” (10). In having the same name,

the pair’s bond is elevated to a new level as they become even more conscious of the

interconnectivity of their lives. Therefore, Ms. Aldclyffe’s ability to become intertwined in

Cytherea’s life becomes more valid and accessible as she asks Cytherea to be “my companion”

(85) rather than her lady’s maid. Within this moment of the scene, the social barriers that the two

had are broken down allowing for a motherly relationship to blossom. Ms. Aldclyffe states: “Put

your hair round your mamma’s neck and give me one good long kiss” (85). Through the release
 24

of the pair’s shared history and similarities, she and Cytherea are allowed to let each other fill the

mother/ daughter relationships that they both had always longed to have.

Why would these scenes have been useful for Tess to read? Most importantly, these

scenes would have shown Tess that a motherly relationship is possible without the presence of a

real mother. This realization perhaps would have allowed her to see that she could have

befriended the milkmaids or Mrs. D’Urberville in order to have the support she longed to have.

In befriending or confiding in women other than her actual mother, Tess would also be allowed

to be her authentic self as a mother manqué does not need to fit the social constraints that a

normal mother would within the Victorian era. Taking into account other similarities in the

themes of Tess of the D’Urbervilles and Desperate Remedies, such as marital issues and family

financial struggles, Tess many have benefitted from seeing a successful example of how a

woman can rise from hardship and the manipulation of men. Although their stories are vastly

different, I believe in answering the question of what novels should Tess read to fulfill a

motherly guidance, Desperate Remedies thus far proves to be a worthy choice.

Structural Surrogacy

Another way in which Tess might be able to feel a motherly connection to Desperate

Remedies is through what I would call the novel’s structural surrogacy: the appearance and

disappearance of Ms. Aldclyffe’s character. Firstly, the novel begins with Ms. Aldclyffe and her

relationship to Mr. Graye, Cytherea’s father. In her character beginning the novel, she “births” or

builds up the novel into fruition, setting the stage for the birth of Cytherea’s story. Although one

might believe her relationship to Mr. Graye is not as important as the main story, the novel’s

details suggest otherwise. Hardy begins the section “October the twelfth, 1863,” by stating “We

pass over two years in order to reach the next cardinal event of the story” (10). Looking directly
 25

at the images that are presented within the opening line of this section, it is clear that these

moments are vital and irreplaceable within the context of the story. With that in mind, it is clear

Hardy wished to begin the novel with monumental and life changing events. This is interesting,

however, as upon initial reading one might not understand that Hardy is setting the reader with

the idea that neither woman can live without the other. In other words, although Ms. Aldclyffe is

not her real mother but her surrogate mother, she is still essential to the development of

Cytherea’s character and furthermore, her life. Therefore, the beginning of chapter one in

reference to motherhood is the birth of the story which the novel is about to tell. Had Ms.

Aldclyffe agreed to marry Mr. Graye, their lives might have been very different and there is a

chance Cytherea would not exist or be the same person.

Although the novel does separate from Ms. Aldclyffe for some time, readers are then

faced with the two siblings in financial turmoil as their father recently passed, leaving her and

her brother broke. This is when the pair need the most parental guidance as not only are they

financially destitute, they are also orphans. It is the pair’s condition that leads Cytherea into

posting for a position as a governess and then a lady’s maid. In response, the novel aids the

siblings by sending them a woman who could not only solve part of their economic troubles, but

could also provide guidance for Cytherea in teaching her how to be a proper woman for the era.

This can be seen in other novels of the time such as Charlotte Brontë’s Shirley where the return

of the maternal figure, “restores her daughter to health by giving Caroline the reason to live that

she has sorely lacked” (Corbett 227). Applying Brontë’s motif to Hardy’s novel, Ms. Aldclyffe’s

role as the mother manqué is only further exemplified as she is here to aid Cytherea. It has

become her destiny to adopt this young woman into her life and to treat Cytherea as if she was

her own daughter. In the text when she offers Cytherea the opportunity to be her companion
 26

rather than one of her employees Ms. Aldclyffe protests: “No, no, no. You shan’t be a lady’s

maid.You shall be my companion. I will get another maid” (85). Within the context of this scene

it is only Cytherea’s first day working for Ms. Aldclyffe. She most likely wishes, after this

interaction, to return back to Owen and forget about her employer. However, Ms. Aldclyffe is

determined to keep her by her side in the hope of having her cared for and treated better than she

would have been back at home.

In the context of Tess of the D’Urbervilles, this segment of the pair’s relationship would

have proved useful for Tess as she too is forced to work for both her families, and her own

survival. At the beginning of the book, Tess works for Mrs. D’Urberville so that her family can

be able to claim kin. Later on in the novel, Tess works for Angel as a milkmaid after her family

in a sense disowns her and leaves her to figure out life on her own. Had Tess read Desperate

Remedies and furthermore these few opening chapters in particular, she would have been able to

see that caring, nurturing, and motherly relationships can form from the very separate beginnings

of a worker-employer relationship. This may have aided her even more when considering that

she too is in economic destitution, and after forming the right connections she could have been

cared for not only financially by Mrs. D’Urberville, but emotionally by the milkmaids as well.

Therefore, Hardy’s previous work could be useful to Tess as the novel would be able to guide

her and help her to create beneficial relationships like a mother would.

The next segment of the text that showcases the structure of the novel as maternal

through Ms. Aldclyffe’s presence is when Cytherea is looking for a suitor. During this time, Ms.

Aldclyffe takes a prominent role in deciding who Cytherea can match with and what

qualifications and intentions they have. Although this may not seem like a structural point, the

love plot is the primary focus during the second half of the novel. Ms. Aldclyffe’s presence
 27

within the love plot is constant as she invites herself in to every conversation with or about

Cytherea’s possible husband. This, however, was nothing new for the Victorians as the mother’s

job was to make their daughters presentable to society and more importantly attract the attention

of good men and the approval of their mothers. “The mother instructs her daughters how to do

everything with good sense, expertness, and scrupulous nicety” (Ellis 338). Cytherea has her

own entrance in to society under the supervision of Ms. Aldclyffe, as she joins a small get-

together of the town’s young women in which they discuss their engagements, and their

experiences finding a suitor. This moment, although relatively brief in relation to other moments

and themes within the novel, is important as it places Ms. Aldclyffe in a conventional motherly

role. This further exemplies her position as the mother manqué, as she has fully taken on the

societal role of mother past what might be expected of an older female friend.

Her role as the conventional mother in terms of Cytherea’s relationships only increases

when Mr. Manston enters the text. As mentioned in the summary of the novel Mr. Manston and

Cytherea do end up being married for a short period of time until it is found out that their

marriage is unlawful and bigamous. When we first meet Mr. Manston however, he, similarly to

Cytherea, is replying to an advertisement for a land steward for Lincoln’s-Inn-Fields who must

be “A gentleman of integrity,” and must have “professional skill” (101). This may seem like a

normal advertisement, but it is not. It continues to read: “He must be a man of superior

education, unmarried, and not more than thirty years of age” (101). Many gentleman of course

apply for this position, but Ms. Aldclyffe hand selects the ones she is interested in as the novel

explains that she steals his name with his address from the Society of Architects during an art

exhibition. One might assume that this does not matter as Messrs. Nyttleton and Tayling will

choose who works for them, but Ms. Aldclyffe once again reinserts herself in to the decision:
 28

“Now then. Mr. Nyttleton, will you make a selection, and I will add one or two” (106). Ms.

Aldclyffe already has convinced herself that Mr. Manston is a perfect match for Cytherea as he

comes from a good background and fits all the qualities that Ms. Aldclyffe finds admirable. Even

though at this point in the novel we have not yet entered the love plot between the couple, one

can already see how curated the relationship was from the beginning. This further showcases not

only Ms. Aldclyffe as the mother figure as she tries to find the best match for her daughter

manqué, but also the importance of class in finding a match for Cytherea.

Class in this particular moment is Desperate Remedies is a key factor in analyzing the

importance of the beginning of Mr. Manston and Cytherea’s relationship. Stepping away from

the structure and the plot of the novel, the motherly position of Ms. Aldclyffe is ingrained in her

fixation on Cytherea’s partner being someone of a higher class. Her fixation begins prior to Mr.

Manston entering the novel as she had the same intensity with Mr. Springrove when he and

Cytherea were in love. In terms of class, contemporary critics believe that “Hardy cannot subdue

his social criticism even when writing within an established genre which would normally require

him to do so” (Taylor 183). Therefore, it may come as no surprise that class in their relationship

and in the novel is always a background theme. When thinking about the novel, one could

consider it to be a sensation novel, a popular genre among the Victorians. The sensation novel

has a consuming interest in property, especially landed property, and often treats the country

house with uncritical admiration (Taylor 183). In agreement with Taylor’s writing, another

contemporary critic Lawrence Jones argues that the love plot does not follow the traditional

sensation novel as Cytherea does not force either man to love her. This is surprising to Jones

given the fact that Hardy, “could not totally suppress his personal mode of regard” towards

women and their affections (Jones 37). She does state however, that from the outside in terms of
 29

Cytherea and Mr. Manston’s relationship, “Miss Aldclyffe,” plays the role of “the evil

manipulating outsider suggests a melodramatic stereotype, the tyrannical, scheming virago”

(Jones 39). I believe both Taylor and Jones’s ideas prove to be correct, as the manipulative role

of Ms. Aldclyffe is essential in creating the class divide in Cytherea and Mr. Manston’s

relationship as she (the upper class) are controlling the middle class (Cytherea and Mr. Manston).

The characteristics of the sensation novel within the relationship can also be seen through the

ending of their marriage as Mr. Manston is discovered to have a wife even though a few chapters

earlier, she was presumed to be dead. It is within Ms. Aldclyffe’s creation of this forced

relationship that the role of mother manqué becomes complicated. As she becomes blinded by

her role in the surrogate friendship by trying to find Cytherea a suitable match that fits her own

standards, she forgets that she and Cytherea are not the same—that she is the mother manqué and

not the mother réelle.4

Another instance in which Ms. Aldclyffe’s motherly presence reflects the structure of the

novel is in her disappearance. After Mr. Manston and Cytherea’s relations are fully terminated as

a result of Ms. Aldclyffe insisting that Manston return to his wife and leaves Cytherea alone.

After their separation, he attempts to kidnap her, as he realizes he has already ruined Cytherea’s

reputation. During Cytherea’s attempted kidnapping, she is saved by Mr. Springrove, her former

love interest. It is in this moment that the pair reunite, and Ms. Aldclyffe, knowing the pain and

distress she has caused Cytherea, disappears completely for a few chapters. She is, however,

briefly reintroduced when Cytherea and Mr. Springrove become engaged. This short encounter

mirrors the real-life scenario of asking for one’s hand in marriage, as Cytherea requests that she

return back to the life she had with Ms. Aldclyffe as she is in her final days and has forgiven her

4
Mother réelle: real mother
 30

for all the meddling that led to Cytherea’s marriage. In response, Ms. Aldclyffe asks her to return

tomorrow as she promises not to die overnight. As a response, “Cytherea promised to go home,

and come the next morning to stay continuously” (375). One might argue that Ms. Aldclyffe’s

exclusion from the next chapters is a result of the end of their surrogate friendship, however this

reading of her disappearance is far too shallow.

In examining why Hardy excluded Ms. Aldclyffe from the text, it is essential to

investigate the role of a Victorian mother after their child has been wed. When a daughter was

married off, her original family would disappear as she is now placed in and quite frankly owned

by another family. As Molly Vatuna states in “Marriage in the Victorian Era,” “At the time

women didn’t really work so they would go from living at their house with her father,” as he

“was the person that financially supported her,” therefore once she was wed, a young woman

was expected to leave the family and the household to be dependent on her husband as she was

for her father. Of course, this varies from class to class as those of a higher stature remained in

contact with their families, while those of a lower did not. Referring back to Hardy’s later

writing in Tess of the D’Urbervilles, this can be seen both when she marries Angel and then Alec

near the end of the novel, as she only returns to see her family when her marriage is practically

terminated. In relation to Desperate Remedies, Ms. Aldclyffe’s exclusion from the story is not

surprising as Cytherea is a part of a lower class, suggesting that she too must abandon her

previous life prior to marriage. This is exemplified within the text as Ms. Aldclyffe tells

Cytherea that if she chooses to return she must return to the estate tomorrow. On Cytherea’s

arrival the next day, she and readers alike learn that Ms. Aldclyffe has passed away overnight.

Therefore, her death at the end of the novel suggests that Cytherea must move on from childhood

and enter society as a woman—the role of the mother has been completed.
 31

The structural surrogacy that the novel provides would aid Tess as it is exemplifies the

surrogate friendships that could replace her own missing relationship with her mother. The

structure of Desperate Remedies also provides an answer to Hardy’s question of mother versus

novel, as it illustrates directly how a novel can become a mother through the disappearance of

characters that follows a typical social model of motherhood. Perhaps the novel would also

provide Tess with an understanding of her real mother’s actions, and why she has done what she

has done that has left Tess feeling abandoned and uncared for. As Ms. Aldclyffe’s actions may

also reflect similar choices to that of her mother’s, showing that even the mother manqué

preforms the same actions and traits as a real Victorian mother would have.

Conclusion

Motherhood is an essential theme within Desperate Remedies, as the relationship

between Ms. Aldclyffe and Cytherea is one that cannot be described as anything but familial.

Considering Ms. Aldclyffe is much older than Cytherea, the relationship follows a pattern that is

most similar to a mother and daughter—creating a surrogate friendship between the pair. This

friendship blossoms as the novel progresses considering the once strangers become very close,

especially as they establish a connection that reaches far beyond what would have been

appropriate for a lady’s maid and her mistress. Of course, the pair agree that Cytherea can no

longer hold this position and therefore, she becomes a companion instead. These maternal

moments throughout the pair’s relationship are exemplified through their one-on-one

interactions. An example of these interactions is their initial meeting in which Ms. Aldclyffe

already suggests a desire to get closer to the young woman and wanting her within her home.

Another scene in which we can see the pair’s closeness is through the night scene in which the

pair discloses personal information and spend the night soothing each other from the ill feeling
 32

of Ms. Aldclyffe’s father’s death, and the less permanent loss of Mr. Springrove and Owen.

Although traditionally reviews both of the Victorian era and today have stated that their reading

of these scenes is one of a sexual and perverse nature, the novel directly points to the pair’s

relationship being maternal as Ms. Aldclyffe assumes the role of Cytherea’s “mamma” (85).

Structurally, the novel also becomes a mother as Ms. Aldclyffe follows a similar

progression to a natural mother in terms of when she is a part and not a part of Cytherea’s life.

This progression begins with the “birth” of her and Cytherea’s relationship in which Ms.

Aldclyffe decides to take the young woman under her wing. This includes teaching her etiquette

of the higher class, finding suitors, and also introducing her to other young women in society.

Ms. Aldclyffe then leaves the spotlight of the novel when she is no longer needed as Cytherea is

a married woman. She does however, reemerge when Cytherea is in trouble and needs help.

Once Mr. Manston has died and Mr. Springrove has professed his love, the novel returns back to

its joyful tone in which once again a mother is not needed as Cytherea is protected. This is when

Ms. Aldclyffe passes away from a strange illness that readers were never aware of. This

mysterious illness, I believe, is symbolic of Cytherea being grown as Ms. Aldclyffe would have

become a hindrance or an “illness” to Cytherea’s adult life.

The clarity of motherhood in this novel I believe would have been best suited for Tess, as

she would have been able to see how one who had no mother was able to thrive and find not only

someone to fill this role, but love along the way. This is pertinent to Tess as she struggles in both

of these areas considering her marriage with Angel similarly to that of Cytherea and Mr.

Manston is short lived and in different respects unlawful. Therefore, Desperate Remedies would

have been able to speak to her most directly as Cytherea faces similar emotions within the same

era of British history. With this in mind, I raise the question, now that Tess has her novel, does
 33

she listen to the motherly advice it provides, or does the novel leave her just as lonely as she

previously felt?
 34

CURTAIN-UP: MATERNAL ROLE-PLAYING IN MOORE’S A MUMMER’S WIFE

The grotesque mixture of prose and poetry both equally false, used to enchant Kate, and
she always fancied that had she been the heroine of the book she would have acted in the
same way.

—George Moore, A Mummer’s Wife, 42

Introduction

In George Moore’s novel A Mummer’s Wife (1885), the protagonist Kate Ede expresses,

like Tess Durbeyfield in Hardy’s novel, a passion for sentimental literature, especially chivalric

romances and sensation novels, and the possible relationships they provide. Kate is in some

sense worse off than Tess: her mother was constantly absent in order to provide for her family,

working in the difficult conditions of the potteries; her father was never in the picture. Kate’s

mother’s profession indicates to us that she too was a part of the English working class, a

category of society not represented in the novels Kate reads; in this reality, survival rather than

courtship and romantic love is the main concern. Unlike Tess, who claims that novels could be a

surrogate for an ineffective (or absent) maternal figure, Kate uses novels as an escape from the

conditions of her childhood, and later on from her unhappy marriage and challenging economic

conditions. She uses the novels that she reads in order to imagine a world beyond herself in

which the mystical, as well as the chivalric hero exists. Kate’s deep love for these novels leaves

her feeling as if she too is entitled to love, a savior, and a magical relationship.

However, these works leave Kate unprepared for the reality she actually lives: they fail

to provide examples of familial or maternal relationships and rather prioritize the love plot versus

what happens post “Happily Ever After.” With the Victorian expectation that young women will

become mothers as Sarah Ellis’s handbooks suggest, the expectation for Kate and all other young

women at the time was for her to be interested in the maternal, to want to be a mother. Her lack
 35

of interest in maternal qualities and relationships as well as her motherless upbringing suggests

that once she become a wife, and further a mother, she must create her own example of

motherhood to guide her. Without any good example of a familial or maternal structure, either in

the real world or in her reading, how does Kate understand what being a mother entails? To what

extent does being a maternal figure for Kate involve playing a role, that is, performing

motherhood and its expectations without any meaningful role model? The lack of maternal

representation in the novel she reads, and subsequently Kate’s lack of knowledge on the

expectations of a motherly role raises the question: if the novels she reads do not feature

maternal figures, can we expect her to be a good mother or understand what role she must play?

Further, does her interest in the role of lover rather than mother make her character, and her

presentation of motherhood, performative, given that she must make up her own expectations

and definitions of motherhood?

In the previous chapter, I explored the idea of the surrogate friendship and the mother

manqué in Thomas Hardy’s Desperate Remedies. Cytherea needed a motherly figure, I argued,

and Ms. Aldclyffe played the role by guiding the younger woman through the novel. In Hardy,

the performance of motherhood was a comfort to both characters. But such role-playing does not

produce the same effects for everyone. In this chapter, I will explore how Moore’s protagonist,

although at one point briefly a mother, never fully reaches complete motherhood or any type of

formal surrogacy. By delving into Kate’s attempts at creating maternal relationships within A

Mummer’s Wife to explore how much her behavior was authentic, I argue she attempts to play

the role of mother in her two marriages, with various repercussions. In her first marriage to

asthmatic invalid Ralph Ede, which is described as miserable and unhappy, we see a double

casting of Kate as both wife and mother: she can interchangeably play one or other role, but not
 36

both. Her relationship towards being the mother or being a maternal figure can be described by

what I call communal surrogacy—having one of multiple individuals play the role of the mother.

Unlike in Hardy’s novel, none of the women in this section of the plot, mainly Kate and her

mother-in-law, actually want to be the woman of the house. Mrs. Ede, whom we could describe

as Kate’s maternal understudy, constantly tries to bring her religious values into her daughter-in-

law’s home, without realizing she is overstepping and taking on the motherly role. On the other

hand, Kate also has to be frequently reminded that she is the woman of the household—

neglecting her obligations to their home, business, and most importantly her husband, who

suffers from illness the entirety of the novel. During her second relationship, however, Kate

takes on another role, that of a lover to a traveling mummer who becomes her second husband. 5

She also becomes literally a mother. This arguably leads to Kate becoming a one-woman show,

playing the roles of lover, mother, and mummer. However, this situation is shown to be

untenable: her child passes away very shortly after her birth and Kate is expected to once again

be the composed, nurturing wife she once was prior to this extreme loss. Her multiple character

role-playing collapses into fits of drunkenness and madness, to the point where she can’t play

any role at all, in reality or in the theater (where she suffers from stage fright).

In A Mummer’s Wife, Moore provides a depiction of Kate that shows how her behavior is

related to her social class and the demands of the family. She lives in the sphere of a demi-

monde where her social position reflects the necessity for regulation, and the inference that her

society will be one that indulges in rule breaking and immoral conduct. According to critic D.A.

Miller, she experiences the family is an “institutional space in which power is violently exercised

on collectivized subjects.” Therefore, she tries to break out of this space in order to have a family

5
Mummer: An actor
 37

that is “a space of ‘liberal society,’ generally determined as a free, private, and individual

domain,” as she does not want a marriage of entrapment (Miller 58). The double casting of

marriage provides a more accurate narrative of the Ede household, and of Kate’s social and

external influences, as she too is double cast into her societal roles. Moreover, Miller’s definition

of the family shows that her character must be held back or restrained as she is forced into being

a wife, and a mother, positions she is not content in. The novel captures these different

perspectives of Kate in such a manner that one can fully understand what it meant to be a woman

in this era and what challenges an expecting mother might have. Kate’s depiction only gains

clarity through pursuing a multitude of roles not only in her professional life—seamstress, and

mummer—but through her personal life as a mother as well. Through the taking up of these

roles, the expectations that were placed upon women and Kate specifically, raises the question

whether motherhood by Victorian expectations can be naturally acquired, or if it requires women

such as Kate to be learned and knowledgeable about the expectations of motherhood in order to

be able to perform the role of a mother?

A Wife or a Lover?

The expectations required for young women in the 19 century to engage with the
th

maternal, and the roles that they must play to achieve them are clearly demonstrated in Kate’s

first marriage as she is forced to fully commit to the composite role of wives and mothers. Ralph

and his illness, require Kate to be double cast as both wife/mother then lover, as she must

separate her desires in order to care for him and their business leaving her unhappy, and

unfulfilled. Kate—having been forced into these roles—is discontented as she would rather have

love than be in a loveless marriage. Her marriage, however, is far from the idyllic love matches

of the chivalric romance and sensation novels that Kate so often reads. Rather, their relationship
 38

is loveless: “he often rendered her life miserable, wellnigh unbearable, by small vices, faults that

defy definition, unending selfishness and unceasing irritability” (Moore 8). This type of union,

according to Victorian conduct-book author Sarah Stickney Ellis, was the worst-case scenario in

which the pair “enter into a heartless, joyless alliance” (219). For these reasons, I argue that Kate

must already play the role of the wife and mother as her emotions and continuation in this union

are performative.

The necessity for Kate to play the mother, whether that be effectively or not, only

intensifies through what I will describe as section one of the novel, which spans from the

beginning of the text up until she leaves her spouse. The maternal nature of Kate’s relationships

in section one is constructed in two ways. The first is a short-lived surrogate friendship between

her and two of her young employees, Lizzie and Annie. The second is the nursing required for

her husband as he is constantly ill and wheezing due to his asthma. To begin, the two ladies

Lizzie and Annie are only seen a few times. Through their minor appearances it may come as no

surprise that the reader learns relatively little about these women personally except for their ages.

Moore only refers to them as “children” (19), which reveals much about the maternal

relationship Kate has with them. The reader is introduced to the idea that these two girls and

Kate have what I refer to in Chapter One as a surrogate friendship. Unlike the friendship in

Desperate Remedies, partly due to the young ages of these girls, their relationship with Kate

functions slightly differently and may best reflect one that a governess might have with her

pupils. Although short lived, the relationship makes clear that Kate cares for these two young

women in a fashion that is compassionate and loving, as a mother would, as she engages with

both Annie and Lizzie on a very personal note. An example of this is knowing their personal

likings and showing them the opera posters on their walks past Mr. Lennox’s theater in which
 39

“Lizzie preferred exciting scenes of murder and arson, while Annie was moved more by

leavetakings and declarations of unalterable affection,” both of which Kate enjoys in her own

reading (19). Instead of letting the two bicker or sit in silence, Kate engages with their interests

and their conversation: “Well, dears, is it a robber or a sweetheart” (19)? It is moments such as

these that present the reader with the idea that Kate longs for the maternal, but is not in the

position to be an actual mother due to her relationship with her husband.

The reprise of the maternal role is present, second, through Kate’s nurturing and care-

taker responsibilities towards Ralph, which are seen right at the beginning in Moore’s initial

labeling of his character as “the patient” (1). By calling him the patient rather than using his

name, Moore ensures that our first encounter with the character is one of hostility and coldness:

“the patient” feels sterile and reinforces that Ralph cannot take care of himself or his family.

Moore not only creates the scene of this sickly man, but also fills the reader’s mind with

questions regarding Kate’s well-being, and that of her marriage. This raises the question, can she

be a mother or the mother of the house, when her focus must be spent on filling in for her

partner? In short, the answer is perhaps. If we take the position that Ralph himself is playing the

role of the child, then she must take on the role of the mother as she must nurture him to health.

In this instance in which Kate must take care of Ralph, referring to the advice of Sarah Ellis is

helpful as she examines the role of illness in motherhood as she explains:

Occasionally, with such children the excessive excitement under which they labour,

assumes the character of fever, and illness. The doctor is then sent for. Medicines

disguised in every possible way, and powders wrapped up in every imaginable

confection, are administered; and as the patient recovers, the old habits by degrees are

resumed (228).
 40

In Ellis’s popular handbook, the word “patient” is only ever used to refer to children. In

assuming Ralph plays the role of the child, Kate must provide for him and tend to him as a

mother would. As seen in both Moore’s work and in the Mothers of England, Kate must spend

all of her available time nursing her husband back to health so he can continue with his old

habits. However, his health never returns to a state of stability. Even in his final mention in the

text, he is described as still “coughing violently” (444) and “wheezing,” that continuously “grew

thicker in sound” (451). Not only does his constant illness throughout the book demonstrate both

why Kate must play the role of mother temporarily, but it also prevents her from being a mother

as she is occupied with his care and filling in his place for their business.

Kate works both day and night sewing and hemming and tending to Mr. Lennox, the

mummer lodging in her home. The lack of help or personal attention from her husband draws her

further away from wanting to be married to Ralph. Her feeling becomes so strong that she felt

“longing to get out of her husband’s sight” (58), as she no longer is attracted to him, nor can she

bear the burden of his illness. In providing for the family physically and economically (she runs

their business), Kate takes on the role not only of the mother, but also of the father. In Julie-

Marie Strange’s work on fatherhood and providing for family in working-class families in the

late Victorian period, she explains that “the task of parenting, that is, feeding, nurturing and

training, fell to women and were associated with ‘mothering,’” whereas “father practices were

grounded in earning sufficient wages to support the family economy” (1008). It is clear that Kate

is acting in both roles throughout the entirety of section one. Although I would not make the

claim that Victorian women were expected to fulfill every role within the home (such as tending

to domestic economy), I will argue that it is not the typical description we receive through novels

as many include a male dominant character that takes charge of all finances such as Mr. Darcy in
 41

Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. Moore makes it clear that Kate is doing everything by

herself, including keeping their livelihoods intact, and therefore cannot be a traditional “mother”

as she must focus on much more than just nurturing her husband.

While Kate loses interest in her familial duties and those she takes on in her husband’s

absence, she takes on a new role and is double cast as the lover. The double casting of Kate as

the lover and as the mother provides a starkly contrasting look at the desires of women versus

their realities. As previously mentioned, Kate is a reader specifically of the chivalric romance

genre in which there is no story past the ‘happily ever after.’ This, however, is in its own way

problematic. Catherine M. Roach explains that,

Prior to the late eighteenth century, notions of marriage tended to be pragmatically based

on economic and political considerations of money, resources, power, and alliances. The

sentimental and passionate love-based-marriage stood in radical contrast to this older

sense. Through the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, the romantic love match came to

dominate as the ideal for marriage in Western culture (3).

Roach’s work elaborates that marriage was once primarily an economic endeavor. Referring

back to the writing of Ellis, however, it is clear that marriages based solely in economic

prosperity, although not what many wanted out of their marriage, still existed in the 19 century,
th

especially among the lower and working classes. Kate and Ralph’s marriage is a clear example

of this as marrying Ralph provided economic stability through his business. Therefore, I would

qualify Roach’s point: I would argue that although the “love match” was the ideal type of union

in the Victorian era, it was mainly attained by those who could afford it, unlike Moore’s

protagonist and her (two) love interests.

 42

A pivotal moment in which readers see the importance of the love match to Kate is in her

excursion to the pottery with Mr. Lennox. This setting, in the greater context of England, was

one of hardship as the potteries became a place of experimentation especially when Chinese blue

and white china became popular. As Paul and Brenda Cohen explain, the process of creating

glazes and other materials was still relatively unknown in the 19th century. Additionally, they

explain that large amounts of coal were used in the production process. They estimate the

number was close to “15 tons per over for each firing,” meaning that “the air was very polluted.

A local saying went, “it was a fine day if you could see the other side of the road.” (142). The

text itself continues this saying with its own description of the town surrounding Stoke’s

potteries: “All was red brick blazing under a blue sky without a cloud in it; the red brick that

turns to purple; and all the roofs were scarletred brick and scarlet tiles, and not a tree anywhere”

(34). The setting of this rather intimate scene is, then, one of hard labor and unpleasant

memories, as Kate’s mother would have had to subject herself to these conditions every single

day. The scene itself however, needs to be broken up into three parts: the first starting when Mr.

Lennox initially approaches Kate alone, the second when he approaches her, and the third

beginning after the plate drops and Kate is forced to reckon with their actions.

To begin, the first scene can be interpreted as Kate feeling desirable and wanting Mr.

Lennox’s attention. As the pair strayed away from their tour group,

Lennox took advantage of the occasion to whisper into her ears that she was far too pretty

a woman for an asthmatic husband; and, encouraged by her blushes, he even hazarded a

few coarse jokes anent the poor husband's deficiencies. How could a man kiss if he

couldn't breathe, for if there was a time when breath was essential, according to him, it

was when four lips meet. No one had ever spoken to her in this way before, and had she
 43

known how to do so she would have resented his familiarities. Once their hands met. The

contact caused her a thrill; she put aside the unbaked plate they were examining and said:

“We'd better make haste or we shall lose them.” (39).

Although whether this sexual tension is consensual is up for interpretation, in these moments it is

clear through her reflections of her unhappiness with Ralph that Kate is inviting the attention of

Mr. Lennox with open arms. She does however have her reservations about getting so close to a

man she barely knows as she quickly makes sure the pair exits the scene in order for the new one

to start. In beginning the declaration of his love that will span across all three scenes of the

potteries act, Lennox carefully mentions Ralph and Kate’s marriage, further alluding to the pair’s

cold, patient-like relationship as he states that breath is necessary, and Kate was “far too pretty a

woman for an asthmatic husband” (73). Lennox’s commentary on asthma, however, does not

showcase a romantic connotation, but rather separates the pair even further as their upbringings

are distinctly different. Although Lennox’s remarks may be accurate, asthma for those of Kate’s

social class was almost impossible to avoid due to industrial labor such as working in the

potteries that resulted in mass inhalation of fumes, smoke, and coal particles that often resulted

in asthma. By stating that Kate is too pretty to be with an asthmatic, Lennox suggests that she is

too pretty to be within her social class, to work as her mother did, her husband does, and his

family did. This, in turn, requires Ralph to become the chivalric character who will lead her into

a different social class than the one she is currently stuck in—he will no longer face the fear of

incapacitating illness.

The second scene of the potteries act is one that is explicitly forceful as Lennox pressures

Kate into romantic acts without her consent. This pressure is seen as Moore states Kate was

“summoning up all her strength she strove to get away, but that moment, happening to tread on
 44

her skirt, her feet slipped. He made a desperate effort to sustain her” (39). The roles have

changed rather quickly as Lennox is no longer the lover but the controller, and Kate is also no

longer the lover but the victim of his desires. This scene presents an interesting dynamic between

the pair in which Lennox will constantly control Kate and her autonomy and freedom. She is no

longer an individual but a prop. Although she tries numerous times to avoid his advances by

“twisting her face away” (39), the necessity for the scene to be a romantic one pressures Kate

into fully committing to these roles of the oppressor and the oppressed.

Prior to the pair exiting from the potteries, it is mandatory as in all romance novels for the

pair to make up, or rather for Kate to once again desire his affection. After Lennox forces

himself on Kate without success, a dinner set began to break as shards of ceramic filled the room

as if they were rose petals scattered along the floor. In this moment of catastrophe, “taking Kate's

arm, he hobbled out of the place. The suddenness and excitement of the accident had for the

moment quenched her angry feelings, and, overwhelmed with pity for the poor wounded hand,

she thought of nothing but getting him to a doctor” (40). Even after having been forcibly pressed

up against, Kate has already dispelled her feelings of anger or belittlement and focuses once

again on playing the best lover imaginable as she cares for Lennox prior to thinking about

herself. Although the previous scene seemed non-consensual, the actions and reactions of Kate

after the incident perhaps indicate otherwise as the shattering glass is a direct reference to the

breaking of the walls between them, allowing the pair to get closer both on a consensual

emotional level and unconsensually in physical way. It is once the plates shatter that Kate

distinctly leaves behind the life of the wife and fully commits herself to the role of a lover: “He

was, in a word, human, and this attracted all that was human in her” (40).
 45

One cannot deny Kate’s yearning for a love match—Mr. Lennox, whom she is in love

with, and therefore believes she will have a better relationship than with her current undesirable

spouse. In the role of the lover Kate is swept away from her home, work, and duties by indulging

in her fantasies, leaving her responsibilities mainly to her mother-in-law and abandoning her

maternal role. This is best demonstrated as the maternal character at the beginning of the novel—

Kate—has shifted to her mother-in-law, as Kate is in the role of the lover often out of the house.

When she returns to the house, she would find that “Her husband wheezed on the sofa, her

mother-in-law read the Bible” (143). Her disappearance from the role of the mother also occurs

in an internal, mental field: Kate is pre-occupied thinking about her unhappiness and her desire

for a love match with Mr. Lennox that would leave her, “awake for hours, tossing restlessly, her

brain whirling” (142). The state of entrancement she is in shows her commitment to the role of

lover, and not to that of the mother, as the “value of,” the chivalric, love match “story lies in the

extent to which it is held to be true by people who shape their lives around that story, whether

consciously or unconsciously” (Roach 4). This entrancement is a danger to Kate as she

completely believes the truth of these stories, and proves to be further detrimental to Kate’s

position as the mother in section one as they take up the space that maternal values such as

religion—a very important subject to Mrs. Ede—should hold. In Kate’s eyes these novels have

taught her everything she needs to know while “religion taught her nothing, inspired her with

nothing, could influence her in little,” however unlike playing the role of the lover, “she was not

strong nor great, nor was she conscious of any deep feeling that if she acted otherwise than she

would be living an unworthy life” (40). In terms of Kate’s commitment to motherhood, if

religion, tales of marriage, or her husband’s well-being no longer interest her, could she be

considered a good mother or a mother at all? Her double casting as wife/mother and lover in
 46

section one only prove to show that these two characters are not doppelgangers as we would

perhaps believe. Rather they show the duality of a woman—her desires versus her duty, her

happiness versus her commitment, her naiveté versus her current situation—a woman in the 19 th

century.

A Lover or a Mummer?

Section two of this novel, unlike that of section one, is far less complicated emotionally

for Kate as she has retired momentarily from the role of mother in order to follow her lover Mr.

Lennox and embark on to new roles such as becoming a mummer herself. Section two can be

defined as the moments in which Kate only plays the part of the lover and is not one of the many

understudies for the role of mother as she was earlier. This era starts when Kate chooses to leave

her husband completely and run away with Mr. Lennox up until his proposal. In these moments,

Kate is able to play the part she had been wanting to play since her childhood when she first

started reading her novels of knights, princesses, and romance. She is now able to fully indulge

in not only the role but the feelings she had been longing for throughout her first marriage.

Kate’s transition into her new role—the lover of Mr. Lennox—although liberating does

require her to play a role with two personas, for example, Shakespeare’s Richard III. In the play,

the audience is allowed to see both his inner cruelty and manipulation, as well as his outer

performance in which he manifests compassion from other characters, and from the audience as

well. In having both internal and external performances presented, the audience is allowed to see

all parts of his character, similarly to how Kate’s role-playing allow us to see all of the facets of

her character. The role of the lover is her outer performance, as she receives the attention and

love she believes she is entitled to as both a woman and an actress. Internally, however, we see a

very different narrative as she becomes cognizant that she is falling into the role of a fallen
 47

woman. As Nina Auerbach explains, these women in the Victorian period were considered

“outcast” and came “to embody everything in womanhood that was dangerously, tragically, and

triumphantly beyond social boundaries” (150), such as single mothers, prostitutes, and all those

who did not follow social conventions traditionally placed on women. Kate, although not a single

mother or a sex worker, still falls within the definition of a fallen woman: becoming a mummer

makes her an outcast as mumming was considered to be an immoral, unholy profession (as seen

by Ms. Ede’s commentary and distaste for Mr. Lennox). It is in this section that Kate fully

indulges in the demi-monde, as she has no desire to conform to social normality or be viewed

through the lens of the traditional maternal Victorian woman.

Her ability to leave her spouse, even though he did not qualify for any of the reasons that

the Victorians considered viable for separation or divorce such as adultery, also shows Kate’s

indulgence of the demi-monde and the rejection of the monde régulier. It however is still
6

interesting that Kate does not try to engage in the divorce process or try to love Ralph especially

as Moore states that “She had always complied with the ordinances of the marriage state” (89).7

Therefore, her quick decision to leave Ralph can be seen as a continuation of her love of fantasy,

to be swept away by a knight in shining armor—Mr. Lennox—rather than confront her actual

marriage. Kate’s immorality towards her husband is the reason that, as Margret Wood remarks,

the economic costs of divorce were high and unattainable to the poor. She further explains that

the economic limiters of divorce were purposefully put in place in order to secure marriages

among the lower classes as she elaborates that it was a “considerable concern that making

6
Monde régulier: the normal world.
7
As law and human rights scholar M.D.A Freeman explains, “When Victoria came to the throne, there
were very few divorces” (549); Margret Wood notes that “it was essentially impossible to obtain a
divorce, no matter how bad the marriage or how cruel one’s husband. A couple could only be divorced by
the passage of a private act through Parliament—remedy available only to the very wealthy.”
 48

divorce easy for the lower classes would lead to unbridled immorality.” T herefore, not only does

Kate not attain a divorce, and thereby participate in the perception of immorality among the

lower classes, but she abandons a real (and legally sanctioned) relationship. In abandoning her

marriage she lost everything, not only metaphorically in terms of a stable relationship, but

literally as well as she was not entitled to any of her possessions that she had left in order to be a

part of a performative relationship that followed the chivalric romances she grew up reading.

While Kate plays the role of the lover, she simultaneously becomes a real mummer as she

joins Mr. Lennox’s theater company. Due to her role as the lover that required a larger amount of

performance than the role of wife, her performative nature is exemplified by becoming a

mummer as it allows her to further indulge in the deviancy of the demi-monde. As Michael R.

Booth explains,

The Victorian stage provided economic opportunities for women not available elsewhere,

especially in the period before they began in large numbers to enter vocations previously

reserved for men, such as office work and retail trades (112).

The female mummer then was allowed not only a social freedom of living within the shadows of

the demi-monde, but also the economic freedom in which she has autonomy of her finances. As

the lover, Kate has this ability to have her own pay, create her own rules, and not be legally and

financially bound to any man. It is important to note, however, that we must not confuse her

financial freedom with identifying Mr. Lennox as transgressive or feminist. Booth continues:

“An actress did not compete with an actor for the same job, so was no threat to him

economically” (112). The lack of competition within this world, and the clear distinction

between lover and partner is perhaps what allows Kate the freedom of becoming a mummer as

Mr. Lennox suggests “it would be as well for her to learn a little music” (200), therefore
 49

allowing her to explore life outside the domestic sphere. Mr. Lennox making this choice for Kate

becomes a pivotal moment within not only her life, but in the relationship they share as she is

able to transform into what Mr. Lennox calls “A quick-change artist” (203), and therefore Kate’s

shapeshifting abilities are directly pointed out to readers. Although encouraged by Mr. Lennox to

begin learning music and joining the theater, it is made clear that Kate wasn’t interested in

supporting Mr. Lennox, but in supporting herself, her freedom, and her defiance towards being a

typical mother of England.

The performative nature of the theater and Kate, however, do not manifest themselves in

a typical way, as even in her success as a mummer she is only focused on the opinion of Mr.

Lennox. This suggests that she does not become a mummer merely to defy society or her old

position but to please Mr. Lennox. When beginning her career, there is a small scene in which

Kate asks him if he is satisfied with her performance and implicitly her company to which he

replies:

“Satisfied with you? replied the big man, turning towards her in his kind unctuous way, ‘I

should think so: you looked lovely, and your voice was heard above everybody’s. I wish

you’d heard what Montgomery said. I’ll give you a line to speak when you’ve got a bit of

confidence. You’re a bit timid, that’s all.’ And delighted Kate listened to Dick who had

begun to sketch out a career for her. Her voice, he said, would improve” (225).

This scene, although at the very beginning of Kate’s short-lived career as a mummer, is the most

indicative part of section two as we are allowed to see the relationship she has with Mr. Lennox

past their sexual chemistry. In Kate asking for a review of her acting, the only recently created

commonality within the pair’s relationship, wanting to please Mr. Lennox seems to be the only

thing she cares about. His response is one that she sees through rose-colored glasses, as she is
 50

thrilled he sees a future for her career and subsequently for her. Through explicit reading,

however, the tone and reaction of Mr. Lennox is rather sub-par as he says “I should think so”

(225) rather than yes implying that he was, in fact, not sure of his satisfaction. Secondly, he

insults her abilities as he calls her timid rather than complimenting her, and states not that her

voice was beautiful, but that it was merely “heard above everybody’s” (225). This indicates that

she is not the best but the loudest, and with practice would “improve” (225). Additionally, the

freedom that Kate believed she was receiving through running away into the demi-monde, is

squashed as her career is controlled by his view of her success. Through this dialogue, the reader

develops a level of intimacy with Kate that allows us to understand that the patriarchy still exists

in the demi-monde and is an essential part of their relationship as she wants to please Mr.

Lennox. Moreover, she wishes to be enough, to be desirable, to have a long-lasting relationship

in which she satisfies him completely. In short, Kate wants to be the woman of his life and his

dreams, she wants to be his love match—the mother to his home.

One may ask, why does Kate wish to reprise the role she just left? The answer requires

us to reflect upon the romantic scene between the pair at the pottery. As previously said, this

location was key in her early life as her mother was a potter. This twists Kate’s perception of the

world and of Mr. Lennox as she realizes he will be her “prince charming.” He gives her

companionship and in a way comfort in the location of her childhood trauma. By doing so, he

rewrites the scene filled with his forcible actions into a display of heroism as saves her from the

harshness of the pottery and vows his love to her. Although to modern audiences this scene can

be read as violent and non-consensual, it is important to consider that Kate wanted a man like

those in her novels who often were forceful and on a mission to save their damsel in distress.

Moreover, she states that she would, “had she been the heroine of the book,” “have acted in the
 51

same way” (42) as those damsels who simply expect the actions of the man who has saved them,

without questioning their actions or moral compass. In having a direct comparison to the themes

and scenes of the novels she grew up with the stark and alarming actions of Mr. Lennox become

overshadowed by her desire to be a love-matched heroine. Therefore, Kate sees Mr. Lennox not

only as a lover, but in these moments as her soulmate which is only intensified by discussions of

her future career (225), that suggest a longevity within their relationship—something that she

desires greatly.

As their romance continues, the question of marriage begins to loom over both of their

heads, as Kate makes it clear she is ready for this commitment to Mr. Lennox. Even though

marriage is what Kate desires, Mr. Lennox does not. This quickly leads Kate to anger, as she

becomes gradually more upset that she has uprooted her life for a man who does not care to be

legally bound to her. This frustration is seen best when the pair discusses marriage and the

religious connotations it provides. Kate yells, “If you did seduce me, if you did drag me away

from my peaceful home, if you did make a travelling actress of me, you might at least refrain

from insulting my religion” (268). The argument Kate poses of religion is an important one to

marriage as God is the facilitator of all unions in the Victorian mindset. As Sarah Ellis explains:

It is the religion of Christ Jesus—a religion which bind by gratitude and love: and are not

gratitude and love two of the great elements of her spiritual existence? It is a religion

which invites her to believe and trust: and is it not her nature to do both? It is a religion

which proposes to her a firm support upon which she may lean with safety (343).

Ellis here provides the argument that religion allows women to see what is needed for their lives

and for their marriages, such as love, gratitude, trust, and support. These key elements that Ellis

states, I argue, are the same that Kate intends to share with Mr. Lennox. As he insults her
 52

religion, he insults the things that religion provides—the same things that are necessary in

marriage. It is the religious qualities of marriage that Ellis examines that are what Kate wants

and are what Mr. Lennox is afraid of. His fears of these qualities manifest themselves a few lines

earlier as Mr. Lennox suggests they be married in London which was months away—which

evidently irritates Kate as she is ready to be married. Nonetheless, Mr. Lennox proposes soon

after, as he apologizes by stating: “ Oh, my darling, I’m so sorry; you will forgive me, won’t

you,” as he understands how he has indirectly stated his oppositions to marriage and further to

marrying her.

A Mum or a Mummer?

In the third and shortest section of the novel—what I will explain as the conflict between

Mum versus Mummer—Kate goes through a variety of changes (such as becoming a literal

mother) that change her life greatly. Prior to her child’s birth, however, the newly married

couple—Mr. Lennox and Kate—go through economic destitution as the theater company they

both worked for becomes bankrupt and therefore the actors separate. In an attempt to keep

themselves afloat, the couple creates their own theater company, The Constellation Company,

that would begin in Lancashire. This business venture sadly did not last, and all existing theater

companies in the area were already filled. Therefore, Kate and Lennox sell all their things and

head to Manchester in hopes of a better life, or at least work.

Not even in the first few hours in Manchester does the first major event in this section

begin—Kate gives birth. It is unclear whether the couple knew Kate was pregnant, as they both

seemed surprised by the child’s arrival, and Kate’s pregnancy had not been mentioned until their

baby’s delivery. Even given their seeming lack of knowledge, the pair’s unreadiness is

astounding. Moore remarks: “There were a thousand things that would have to be paid for—the
 53

baby’s clothes, the cradle...the thought struck him that there might be a funeral to pay for as well

as a birth” (319). As Mr. Lennox’s shares his own mental unpreparedness as well as the lack

actual preparedness of the pair, it raises the question whether either of them were ready to have a

baby? Further, whether the pair wanted a baby without understanding what it requires in

economic cost, and in love and attention. As Kate heals, her attachment for her child grows as it

is explained: “These days were the best of her life. She felt more at peace with the world, she

placed more confidence in her husband than she had ever done before” (327). Although Kate is

undoubtedly happier and more maternal than before, she still struggles with taking care of the

child which is perhaps due to the incapability of the novels she reads to teach her these things.

The novels that Kate read during her childhood once again play a large role within the

issues she has being a mother. These chivalric romances or even the sensation novel would not

have taught Kate how to be a mother. Of course, the love she has towards her baby is a natural

instinct which comes on its own, however knowing how to take care of a child is something that

must be learned hence the reason for conduct books such as Sarah Ellis’s Mothers of England.

Kate’s issues with caring for the baby girl start relatively early in her life, as Kate “insisted on

suckling her infant although expressly forbidden to do so by the doctor” (327). Additionally,

Kate was given a multitude of instructions by the nurse on how to care for the child to ensure its

survival such as when to bathe her and feed her. Kate although devoted constantly failed to keep

to the schedule and regimen the nurse provided as when feeding the child “Sometimes she put

too much water in the milk, sometimes too little” (330). Even when given direct instructions, she

failed to follow them and made the healthy baby a sickly one. Her lack of knowledge for what a

healthy baby even was also made her caring for it more difficult as she once “did not hear it for

hours; she did not know she had forgotten to warm its milk, and the poor little thing was
 54

shivering with cold pain. And when at last she awoke, and went over to the cot trying to collect

her drink-laden thoughts, the little legs were drawn up, the face was like ivory, and a long thin

wail issued from the colorless lips” (330). It is with these frequent occurrences of neglect that the

child slowly dies, and Kate no longer has the maternal love she previously had. It is with the lack

of regard, care, and understanding for her child and how to raise her that Kate takes away the

only thing that was making her happy—actual motherhood.

Kate’s role as the mother in this section is also contrasted with her role as the mummer,

as she acts not only as the mother, but also reminisces on her career as a mummer. As Kate

indulges in her new role as a mother, she and Mr. Lennox discuss her return to the stage several

times as he pushes Kate to begin working as well. In response, Kate urges that in her current

state, having given birth a few weeks prior, that the roles she would be offered would not

compare to the leading roles she once had—alluding to her failure as an actress, something she

believes has not yet happened. As she remarks that “she would like to return to the stage in a

leading part, but not in any of the parts she had already played in, but something new” (329), she

alludes to her self-image of being successful. In other words, her previous success as a mummer

shapes her idea that she is successfully playing the mother, and further could return to the stage

in lead roles straight away. This false confidence not only affects her return to the stage once her

child dies, but also affects the way she cares for her child begging the question how can she

improve as a mother when she is clouded by a success that does not currently exist?

Kate’s commitment to being a mummer continues after her child’s death as she quickly

desires to return to the stage. It has not even been a full day after her child’s funeral that she and

Mr. Lennox discuss her returning to work as she says “Oh tomorrow night! It would be dreadful

to act so soon after my poor baby’s death, wouldn’t it” (339). However, when at the theater the
 55

next day, Moore remarks that: “the engagement relieved the Lennoxes for the time being of their

embarrassments” (340), and that they both took roles in respective theater pieces. Although it is

undeniable that Kate was previously a mummer and was returning to work as many

contemporary mothers would do after their maternity leave, her necessity to return to the stage so

quickly after she child’s death indicates that she has gone from one role to another without any

thought. This suggests that she was not as deeply attached to being a mother contrary to her

descriptions. Without the ability to play the role of the mother, Kate desires to return to the stage

to play another role, as she has been casted the entire play.

Soon after her return to the stage however, Kate grows tired of working when she cannot

see her husband, and as a result, their quarrels begin to increase exponentially. In addition to

their arguments, a new issues arises—Kate becomes dependent on alcohol to make herself

happy. As it was originally prescribed to her as a healing substance after the birth of her

daughter, being left alone day after day, she begins to drink sherry, brandy, and gin on a more

frequent basis with a heavier dosage. Her increased alcohol intake reaches a point to which she

could be considered an alcoholic as she becomes not only dependent on the substance, but also

violent, emotionally abusive, and unable to function on her own. Unable to be the mother, a

mummer, or a wife, Kate’s dependence on alcohol becomes a cry for help, as she can no longer

keep up with the pressure of the many roles she has been required to fill.

A Woman or a Madwomen?

In the last section of the novel, Kate undergoes a transformation: she no longer plays any

of the characters that she has been cast as, but as one she casts herself in—the madwoman. Kate

having undergone loss, has become an alcoholic who can no longer be contained as she is left

alone most of the day while Dick is working. Kate’s struggle is one that is heartbreaking as she is
 56

trapped both mentally and physically as she is compared to Bertha Mason when she is seen at the

theater: “By Jove! We ought to put up Jane Eyre,’ said Mortimer. ‘If she were to play the mad

woman like that, we’d be sure to draw full houses” (394). This comparison however, proves to

be difficult as men once again are attempting to place her in the role of Bertha Mason, rather

than realizing that she is just a woman as Bertha was, who is tired of playing the roles of a

Victorian woman under the conditions of someone else. She is not playing the role, yet has

become the character as her performance of the madwoman is in fact no performance at all but

rather the result of Kate’s life. Instead of the distraught image of Kate whose “long black hair

hung in disordered masses; her brown eyes were shot with golden lights; the green tints in her

face became, in her excessive pallor, dirty and abominable in colour” being of concern to her

peers, she is idolized for a performance that she is not attempting to play (394). This contrast

raises questions of why her former castmates do not take her and her physical dishevelment to be

a sign of instability and loss, but rather are admiring her theatricality, an attribute she in this

state, is unable to control? Furthermore, why has none of her peers attempted to help or heal her

after the loss of her child and Dick’s disinterest in Kate after the baby’s death?

Moore’s description of Kate as a madwoman stems primarily from the loss she has felt in

the previous section and the alcoholism she has developed in order to numb the pain of her loss.

To a woman in the Victorian era, being a mother was the purpose of marriage and ultimately a

woman’s life, without children, a woman’s life is empty. As, “They,” (mothers) “wish, in fact,

that their children should look to them as the sole fountain of indulgence and pleasure” (Ellis

266), meaning that Kate’s desire is to have a child to amuse and to love as she has been left on

her own while Dick is out. This importance of the child and its ability to fulfill the role Kate

desired is explicitly stated as she remarks “if the baby had not died, there would have been
 57

something to live for,’ she murmured to herself a thousand times during the day” (341). It is

these thoughts that create the “demonic” (394) side of Kate as the subsequent “burden of remorse

grew quite unbearable, and she thought of the brandy the doctor had ordered for her” (341). Kate

drinks not because she enjoys the occasional glass of brandy, but because it takes away her pain

and makes her a bit more lighthearted than she was before making alcohol a necessity to Kate’s

happiness.

Even prior to the death of her child, Kate undergoes the realization that she has lost

Dick’s love and the meaningfulness of her marriage as Moore states, “She had lost Dick’s love”

after she had lied to him about her drinking, and pushed him away. Later on in the novel Mr.

Lennox writes to Kate explaining that after her multiple violent outbursts that he finds it “quite

impossible,” for the pair “to go on living together” (419), as Kate’s loss permeates her ability to

go on sober. Her unhappiness and the lack of love within their marriage is also seen as she

mistakes Mr. Lennox for Ralph after her initial altercation with him as while they were asleep a

few chapters prior as,

the noise she heard was Dick’s breathing, and she wished that Ralph would breathe more

easily. Ralph, Ralph! No, she was with Dick. Dick, not Ralph, was her husband (333).

This confusion shows that Kate is disoriented in her marriage, and the irritations that led to her

unhappiness in her first marriage such as neglect, have now shown themselves in her new

relationship. Her inability to decipher the two gentleman also indicates that Kate is truly

miserable and is looking for an escape from her marriage and from the loneliness she has

continuously faced. The loss of her relationship and the loss of her child only further the notion

that Kate has nothing to live for as she has no claim to motherhood or to being the woman of the

house. Therefore, Kate’s desire to drink and to play the madwoman indicates that she is
 58

attempting to take control over her shortcomings as she states “if she were to lose her baby she

must go mad” (333). By playing the role of madwoman, Kate still has control, and she must

choose between Auerbach’s Victorian angel of the house or the Demon, two characters that both

hold “a violent paradox with overtones of benediction and captivity” (72) until her death.

Conclusion

Contrary to what we may perceive, motherhood is not a natural role for all woman that

live in the Victorian novel. Rather, examples such as A Mummer’s Wife present the idea that

becoming a mother or creating surrogate relationships is never that easy. These relationships

become even harder when, like Kate she never grew up with a strong maternal figure as she is in

the working class, meaning that her mother was consistently working in the tough conditions of

the potteries, and, as Moore states, Kate grew up without a father, and therefore had no parental

guidance at all. Additionally, the novels that she reads throughout her life Moore alludes to being

chivalric romances or sensation novels that often do not hold prominent maternal figure that is

able to teach readers how to be a good mother. In terms of Kate’s own maternal journey, she

begins the novel in a communal surrogate role as she played the role of mother when it was

convenient, or in the case of Lizzie and Annie not permanent. These instances of her taking on a

more lackadaisical maternal role shows that she is not prepared to be a mother for an extended

period of time, and that she too is looking to have the ability to have fun as the two girls do. This

is exemplified through her first marriage as Kate’s unhappiness increases through the arrival of

Mr. Lennox, as she realizes that he provides her with a romance that enables her to play a new

role—the lover. Their relationship is quickly solidified as it resembles the romance she has

always wanted, one that is fun, lustful, and exciting—a parallel of her favorite novels. It is not
 59

long after their initial meeting that Kate decides to run away with him as she hopes that their new

life will be one of joy and love.

This idyllic romance however quickly fades as Kate realizes her societal instincts to

reprise the role of wife and mother as well as continue her passion pursuits by being a mummer.

It is in part of Kate’s life that the balance between what she wants and what society recommends

becomes an essential contemplation. Although she has the man she loves, she runs away in hopes

that she will not remain the lover even though she was unable to play the mother in her previous

relationship due to romantic incompatibility. This suggests that perhaps Kate longed to play the

mother and yet did not know how to properly, or just did not care to waste her potential on a man

whose asthma controlled their relationship. Nonetheless, after having great success on the stage,

and a great relationship, Kate once again questions Mr. Lennox on when they are to be married,

the which he had not considered or thought of. This enrages Kate, and ultimately against his

initial wants, the pair get married.

Motherhood and playing the role of a mother come into question once again as Kate

gives birth to a baby neither of the pair were prepared to have. This is evident as there are no

clothes purchased, and the pair seem very surprised that Kate was not just sick. Even though

Kate is ecstatic that she has a child after the end of her mumming career, her lack of knowledge

becomes apparent as she forgets to warm the baby girl’s milk which gives the child a cold, and

ultimately kills her. It is these small parenting techniques that are learned and passed down

through mothers and conduct books such as the work of Sarah Ellis, which Kate needed to know,

and yet did not have the opportunity to learn and did not find important enough to read. The

death of her child, and the loss of her marriage result in her playing the role of madwoman as her

wavering sobriety indicates a loss of all control and an admit to defeat.

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The role-playing required of Kate in the novel, I believe, shows the pressures that were

put on 19 -century women to be mothers and good ones at that. In Kate’s situation being a part of
th

the working class does not aid in learning how to be a mother as the pair, unlike many depictions

of mothers in Victorian novels, do not have the ability to have a governess or nurse look after

their child. Rather, Kate’s inability to be a mother both symbolically through surrogacy and

literally, proves to be her demise as she has nothing left to live for. With this in mind, I raise the

question, would reading more maternal novels have aided Kate, or is she is her failure as a

mother based on her own desires to play roles such as wife, mother, lover, and mummer when

she deems them enjoyable?

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CONCLUSION

As argued in the previous chapters, the image of Victorian motherhood pressures women

into becoming a maternal figure. This figure was necessary in the 19th-century novel in order to

guide the protagonist, or to provide a cautionary tale on the consequences of not fully realizing

the image of the Victorian mother. Motherhood, unlike anything else, becomes a full time role in

which woman like Ms. Aldclyffe and Cytherea are often double cast as they are required to

fulfill many different roles all at once. In different ways, both Hardy and Moore showcase the

difficulties of women who undergo double casting as both maternal figures struggle greatly at the

end of their respective novels. For Ms. Aldclyffe, the pressure of raising Cytherea perfectly

allows for the worst possible outcome of marriage—adultery—to occur. For Kate, the pressure

of motherhood manifests in to madness as she no longer cares to play the roles that society has

cast her in. It is with these women’s individual paths to and through motherhood in mind, that we

must examine the necessity of motherhood in the Victorian novel and the pressure it places on

women.

Even though these maternal relationships are in some cases not performed by a biological

maternal figure, their relevance in the novel remains the same as often these surrogate

friendships provide more guidance than a normal mother would be expected to provide. In

Desperate Remedies, the main protagonist does not have a mother as she passed away very early

on in Cytherea’s childhood. Searching for employment after the death of her father, she is

desperate to find guidance, and stability both economically and morally as she no longer has a

parental figure. It is on this search that she meets Ms. Aldclyffe—an older mistress of a house

who is looking for a ladies maid and companion—a position that Cytherea applies for. The

connection between the pair is instantaneous and explicitly described as Ms. Aldclyffe thinks:
 62

It is almost worth while to be bored with instructing her in order to have a creature who

could glide round my luxurious indolent body in that manner, and look at me in that

way—I warrant how light her fingers are upon one’s head and neck... What a silly modest

young thing she is, to go away so suddenly as that! (Hardy 56)

It is in scenes such as these that we must read explicitly, as stated in Chapter One, the reading of

this passage can be seen as sexual. It is with explicit reading that we are able to see the longing

that Ms. Aldclyffe has for Cytherea to be close to her—to be her mother réel instead of the

mother manqué. The snake-like description of the young woman indicates she possesses a

transformative power over Ms. Aldclyffe—as her character shifts from an old woman in to a

maternal figure. The maternal transformation of her character can be seen as she thinks “What a

silly modest young thing she is, to go away so suddenly as that!” (Hardy 56), as it shows she

cares about the way Cytherea carries herself as a young woman. As stated by handbook writer

Sarah Ellis, a mother may “lay down for them,” (the child) “a system of the purest morals, or

even preach to them a holier law derived from the Bible itself” (53). Which indicates that,

Cytherea presents herself to Ms. Aldclyffe in a way that must be corrected, as she must, like a

child, learn how to hold herself properly.

Similarly, in the evening scene between Cytherea and Ms. Aldclyffe, for example, is also

a key passage where explicit reading is needed, as it is often read as sexual, rather than seeing the

direct verbiage that indicate that the older woman is looking to be a maternal figure rather than a

lover. These readings of the passage by contemporaneous and modern day critics alike, refuse to

see the maternal qualities of the scene and the bond created by the pair. It is once again in

moments such as these that we must look past the implicit reading in which many misinterpret

these maternal moments for sexual and perverse interactions.

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The necessity to be a maternal figure, however, is not a desire that is confined only to

childless women, like Ms. Aldclyffe, but also to young woman who are beginning their families.

In George Moore’s A Mummer’s Wife, Kate although unlearned on how to be a mother,

continuously tries to fulfill the societal role and expectations of a wife and mother. Kate tries to

play the role of wife and mother not only in her two marriages to Ralph Ede and Dick Lennox,

but also in her interactions with two young employees, and even in having her own child. From

these interactions, the same conclusion can be drawn, as it seems Kate although attempting to

play the mother, has no real desire to learn how to be a successful one. Instead of reading a

contemporaneous handbook such as Mothers of England, she instead reads novels in genres that

do not showcase good maternal figures, such as chivalric romances, or like Hardy’s work, the

sensation novel. It is with this lack of knowledge that once Kate becomes an actual mother, she

ends up killing the newborn as she does not know that the milk needs to be warmed or that the

child needs to be swaddled in blankets. Additionally, the young mum’s lack of maternal instinct

is explicitly stated as she is insistent on “suckling her infant although expressly forbidden to do

so by the doctor” (327), making her child’s ability to survive even more difficult. After having

proven that she cannot fulfill the role of mother, Kate becomes a madwoman who has the ability

to be lawless, and no longer adhere to the constraints that societal roles have placed on her. In

what I consider to be the most pure, and truthful moments in the novel (Kate’s “madness”), her

disgruntled character showcases the societal pressure put on woman to not only be a mother, but

to perform the role of a mother without missing a line or having any stage fright.

Although the role of the mother is a difficult one to perform, the Victorian novel requires

a maternal character in order to guide the protagonist, or to provide a cautionary tale on the

consequences of failed motherhood. These novels, similarly to the work of Ellis, provide detailed
 64

accounts of what is expected from women even those who biologically, do not have any

children. It is through these depictions that we are able to see a transformation of both Ms.

Aldclyffe and Kate, as they become mothers and have their own separate maternal instincts.

Within these depictions of motherhood, however, it is pertinent to consider the role of class and

its ability to make the role of mother much easier. In the case of Ms. Aldclyffe, her main

objective is to teach Cytherea how to be a proper young woman, and for her to eventually get

married to someone who will be able to take care of her as she raises a family. On the other hand,

as Kate represents the Northern working class, she must first be able to survive in order to raise

her child who, due to the conditions of these areas (smoke, pollution, and subsequent asthma),

had a low chance for survival. These contrasts are essential to recognize as they shape the way

we are able to explicitly read the novel, as context helps us understand the writing on the page,

rather than the writing in our minds.

Having focused on motherhood and the extent to which it is necessary in the 19th-century

novel, I now wonder: where is the father? Throughout my research, little to no emphasis is

placed on Cytherea’s dad, or where Mr. Ede and Mr. Lennox respectively, failed as a partner and

father figure. In regard to 19th-century novelist George Eliot, author Tahira Jabeen states that,

Home was the place where they could enjoy their masculinity without pressure, as

opposed to the pressure they faced in the workplace. Home was a place of peace and

tranquility for them. This peace and relaxation was provided for by the mother, who was

expected to maintain the home, nurture the children, and make home life a type of haven

for the father (3).

Jabeen therefore states that the home to a father was a place of comfort, while the mother would

see it as a place of domestic economics. With that being said, how is the home a place of comfort
 65

from the outside world when in Kate’s situation her first husband never left home, and her

second husband never came home. In Hardy’s novel unlike Kate, Ms. Aldclyffe was never

married, as we learn she was in love with Cytherea’s father. As both Desperate Remedies and A

Mummer’s Wife present the “home” without a true father figure, I question, whether men are

truly needed for the maternal to take place. Additionally, if the paternal figure is required in the

Victorian family, then why is he not presented in many other Victorian novels such as Agnes

Grey?

Regardless of a paternal presence in 19th-century novels, the maternal presence is still

necessary. Although stemming from the societal pressure for women to be the perfect image of

Victorian motherhood, the female characters in these novels still explicitly attempt to fulfill these

roles. For Ms. Aldclyffe, playing the role of the maternal figure is quite distinct as she performs a

surrogate friendship. This type of surrogacy allows Cytherea the guidance she needs in order to

become a successful woman in the middle class. In Kate’s instance—being an actual mother

through her marriages and her child—it is her lack of maternal instincts and knowledge on how

to play the maternal figure properly that lead to her failure, and subsequent madness. It is with

these two individual literary examples in mind, that we cannot ignore the pressure of being a

mother, and preforming the image of Victorian motherhood perfectly. Moreover, we should not

ignore the performance required to be an actual mother or to provide a sense of a motherhood for

another woman.
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Auerbach, Nina. Woman and the Demon: The Life of a Victorian Myth. Cambridge: Harvard

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Best, Stephen, and Sharon Marcus. “Surface Reading: An Introduction.” Representations, vol.

108, no. 1, 2009, pp. 1–21.

Booth, Michael R., and Michael Richard Booth. Theatre in the Victorian Age. Cambridge:

Cambridge University Press, 1991.

Carson, Anne and Sappho. If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho. Vintage Books, 2003.

Cohen, Paul, and Brenda Cohen. “Gladstone, The Working Museum of the Potteries, in Longton,

England.” Journal of College Science Teaching, vol. 29, no. 2, 1999, pp. 141–42.

Corbett, Mary Jean. “Orphan Stories and Maternal Legacies in Charlotte Brontë.” Other

Mothers: Beyond the Maternal Ideal, edited by Ellen Bayuk Rosenman and Claudia C.

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