Alcoholism and temperance
The Tenant of Wildfell HallAlcoholism and temperance are presented not as a simple opposition between drinking and abstinence but as a struggle involving dependence, relapse, social reinforcement, and the protection of children. The pattern recurs across Lord Lowborough’s unstable efforts at self-command, Arthur Huntingdon’s deepening reliance on alcohol, and Helen Huntingdon’s determined campaign to keep her son from inheriting his father’s habits. The contrast is stark: resolve can interrupt a cycle, but a household that rewards excess can make restraint precarious and pass destructive conduct on to the next generation.
Dependence, resolve, and relapse
Lord Lowborough’s experience first makes the repeated structure of addiction explicit. He is described as infatuated with gambling against his own will, repeatedly resolving to stop and repeatedly breaking those resolutions. Each attempt to continue is justified as a final one: a small gain invites the hope of winning more, while a loss seems to require another wager to recover what has just been lost. The next bet becomes both a promise of repair and a reason not to quit. His account makes the cycle more specific than a failure of will: each outcome supplies a fresh argument for continuing.
Lowborough eventually keeps his oath against gambling, to the surprise of those around him, despite Grimsby’s efforts to tempt him back. But stopping one compulsion does not end the broader struggle. Lowborough takes to drink as a solace for his cares, and the narrator observes that alcohol proves nearly as difficult to escape as gambling. Later, he refuses to drink openly while privately keeping laudanum and taking it intermittently, alternating abstinence with excess much as he had with spirits. His conduct suggests that a visible oath or a change in the substance involved does not by itself resolve the underlying pattern of dependence.
Arthur Huntingdon’s drinking follows a different but equally progressive course. Helen recognizes that wine has become more than an accessory to social enjoyment: it is increasingly a source of pleasure in itself. During his physical weakness and depression, she fears he will make it his medicine, support, comfort, recreation, and friend, binding himself more firmly to the decline already under way. Her description links bodily vulnerability to the danger of dependence without treating a temporary recovery in health as proof that the danger has passed.
The novel also shows how a drinker may alternate between abstinence and excess while displacing responsibility for relapse. Arthur initially abstains from wine, but gradually relaxes his efforts and again drinks to excess, sometimes severely. When intoxicated, he can flare up and behave abusively; in the aftermath, he laments his suffering and errors but blames Helen, calling her conduct the cause of his drinking. Helen rejects that accusation, recalling her sustained attempts to save him from the vice. His self-pity does not produce a lasting change: his drinking and blame recur together, while the burden of confronting the consequences falls on his wife.
Social reinforcement and the domestic example
The narrative places drinking within social environments that can either resist or intensify it. Lowborough’s gambling oath is tested by Grimsby’s repeated temptations, and his movement from gambling to alcohol occurs amid companionship organized around indulgence. Later, Helen describes Arthur’s associates as helping to corrupt their young son. The risk is therefore not only that a dependent person will relapse, but that a surrounding group will make excess seem ordinary, amusing, or masculine.
Arthur’s household turns that danger into a daily lesson for the child. Helen attempts to keep their son with her or in the nursery and specifically instructs Rachel not to let him come down to dessert while the gentlemen are present. Arthur overrides those orders. At the table, the boy learns to drink wine like his father, swear like Mr. Hattersley, and insist on having his own way; his resistance to his mother becomes part of the company’s entertainment. What the adults treat as a joke is, to Helen, a distressing demonstration that a child can imitate conduct before understanding its consequences. Drinking is transmitted here not through an abstract inheritance but through repeated exposure and approval.
Arthur also turns Helen’s resistance into a grievance against her. He complains of her as an unnatural and unwomanly wife and says that she drives him to drink, while she knows he continues to correspond with Lady Lowborough. Helen’s attempts to admonish him by describing alcohol’s effects on his appearance and body, and by warning that Annabella would be disenchanted if she saw him, win abuse rather than gratitude. She dislikes having to use such arguments, yet believes they sometimes make him pause. The episode shows her working within a relationship where care gives her no reliable authority over his choices and where even an effort to interrupt the habit can be recast as an injury to him.
Helen’s strategy for her son
Helen’s approach to the boy’s drinking differs from a simple prohibition. She recalls that he was unusually fond of wine for a child and feared what that appetite might mean, especially in light of both her own father’s history and Arthur’s. Rather than stinting him or forbidding wine outright, which she thought might make it seem a greater treat, she continued to give him as much as his father allowed and as much as he wanted, secretly introducing a small amount of tartar emetic into each glass. The dose was intended to produce nausea and depression without making him positively sick. Repeatedly unpleasant consequences gradually made the child weary of wine, and Helen pressed it on him more insistently as his aversion grew.
The method is an intentionally indirect form of protection: Helen tries to detach pleasure from drinking by ensuring that the child experiences its consequence, rather than making the drink forbidden and therefore more desirable. She reports that she has succeeded in giving him an absolute disgust for intoxicating liquor and hopes neither his father nor his father’s friends will overcome it. She also says that bad language seldom defiles his mouth after she has worked to break the habits he acquired. These changes matter because they offer a counterexample to the father’s influence: the household has taught the boy to imitate excess, but Helen’s persistent intervention has begun to undo that education.
Her effort unfolds under the pressure of a threatened separation from her son. As long as she remains in Arthur’s household, she feels unable to rescue him from the influences surrounding his father; she describes herself as a prisoner, with the child’s corruption more painful than her own confinement. Her eventual decision to leave is framed as necessary for her son’s welfare, not as an end to her concern for Arthur. The temperance theme thus becomes inseparable from maternal protection: preserving the child’s future requires removing him from the environment in which his father’s drinking is presented as an example to follow.
Limits and significance
The novel distinguishes abstinence as an act from temperance as a durable condition. Lowborough’s gambling oath holds, yet his other dependencies continue; his private use of laudanum reproduces the alternation of restraint and excess. Arthur’s initial abstinence likewise gives way to renewed drinking, and his repeated blame of Helen turns relapse into another means of exerting pressure on her. In both cases, a period of stopping is not equivalent to lasting reform, especially when the surrounding social or domestic world sustains the habits at issue.
Helen’s defense of her son offers a more hopeful result, but it is also marked by the constraints under which she acts. Her covert use of tartar emetic reflects her conviction that direct prohibition would strengthen the child’s desire; her success depends on careful management of what he is allowed to experience, while Arthur’s authority repeatedly counters her ordinary instructions. The narrative does not present the household as neutral ground: its examples, pleasures, and judgments shape whether a child learns self-command or learns to celebrate excess.
Alcoholism and temperance therefore connect personal dependence to marriage, companionship, and child-rearing. The drinker’s resolve matters, but so do the people who tempt, excuse, imitate, or resist his behavior. Arthur’s household makes alcohol part of a corrupting masculine performance; Helen’s counter-education attempts to break that pattern before it becomes the son’s own. Across these contrasting outcomes, the central tension is between repeated relapse in an enabling environment and the difficult, deliberate labor of forming a different habit.