After the Black Dog

Just what do you mean by “Black Dog?”

From a distance, they might seem quite ordinary, although they’re generally larger than normal dogs, with shaggy coats. They’ve been known to appear during the day, but Black Dogs are likeliest to show up at dawn or dusk, at crossroads or in churchyards, spots traditionally seen as places of transition or transit. People often mistake them for regular dogs until they do something extraordinary, like walk through a wall, or grow larger without warning, or simply vanish altogether. Depending on where you are in England, Black Dogs have different names and personalities; Black Shuck can be a harbinger (at times an instigator) of impending death, while the Black Dogs of Lincolnshire have been known to be much more retiring, appearing when women or children are walking home alone to give them a safe escort, and vanishing only when they reach safety.

They might seem ordinary from a distance.

Are Black Dogs an English thing?

Not at all. There are recorded examples of the legend, or stories like it, in almost every country, from the United Kingdom to South America. The folklore collection at Exeter University Library, 50 years’ worth of Black Dog correspondence and research by folklorist Theodora Brown, contains examples from almost everywhere, including Virginia and North Carolina. It seems to be one of the most widespread migratory legends in history, although surprisingly few people have heard of it.

If they’re so widespread, where did the legend come from?

That’s one of the things I’m trying to find out. That issue’s been the subject of thorny debate among folklorists. Among the running theories about England: Nordic invaders brought the tales when they came to Britain; smugglers used Black Dog tales to ward off curious townsfolk, especially on the Isle of Man and in East Anglia; the legend is a leftover from classical times, a vestige of old myths about the death-goddess Hecate, or the Norse god Odin, or some combination of these. It’s difficult to say whether any of these has factored more prominently in the spread and preservation of Black Dog myths, but they’ve all been contributing factors in some way or another. I hope to make a more definitive claim after my research is done. Whatever the case, Black Dogs are a perfect case study in the ways folk stories spread and change over time.

Odin, chief of the Norse gods, with his ravens and hunting hounds.

Are you sure other people have heard of this stuff?

Here’s a brief list of household names who have been inspired by the legend:

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, whose classic Holmes tale, The Hound of the Baskervilles, is indebted to the West Country for its setting and inspiration.
Bram Stoker, who encountered the story in Whitby and wove it into his seminal tale of terror, Dracula.
Sir Winston Churchill, who used the Black Dog as a metaphor for his legendary bouts of depression — in his worst times, he would say he had “a Black Dog on his back.” (This has since become a stock phrase in modern studies of psychology.)
The Brontë Sisters must have heard the tale growing up in Yorkshire, as it appears as a reference in their novels.

How many Black Dogs are there?

Theo Brown, the late folklorist, divided them into two types. Spirits of the first kind are generally known as Black Dogs — although they might do some surprising things, like walking through walls, they pretty much behave like regular dogs. Black Dog spirits have the capacity to be friendly and protective, often serving as guides to lone walkers at night.

Sketch of the Black Shuck weather vane, a town landmark in Bungay, Suffolk.

The other kind has a decidedly malevolent nature. Members of this category — the Barguest of Yorkshire, Black Shuck of East Anglia, and also the Mauthe Doo of the Isle of Man — have traditionally commanded the respect and terror of locals. They don’t always look like dogs; sometimes they don’t look like anything natural at all, drifting half-formless over the ground to frighten the living daylights out of people. They’re known as omens of death in some places; in several cases, people who cross them don’t meet with a good end, if they live to tell the tale at all.

Okay, I get it. So… have you seen one yet?

I don’t know. You’ll have to come for the documentary in the fall, I guess.