by Thomas Hardy
CHAPTER LV
THE MARCH FOLLOWING--"BATHSHEBA BOLDWOOD"
We pass rapidly on into the month of March, to a breezy day withoutsunshine, frost, or dew. On Yalbury Hill, about midway betweenWeatherbury and Casterbridge, where the turnpike road passes overthe crest, a numerous concourse of people had gathered, the eyes ofthe greater number being frequently stretched afar in a northerlydirection. The groups consisted of a throng of idlers, a party ofjavelin-men, and two trumpeters, and in the midst were carriages, oneof which contained the high sheriff. With the idlers, many of whomhad mounted to the top of a cutting formed for the road, were severalWeatherbury men and boys--among others Poorgrass, Coggan, and CainBall.
At the end of half-an-hour a faint dust was seen in the expectedquarter, and shortly after a travelling-carriage, bringing one of thetwo judges on the Western Circuit, came up the hill and halted on thetop. The judge changed carriages whilst a flourish was blown by thebig-cheeked trumpeters, and a procession being formed of the vehiclesand javelin-men, they all proceeded towards the town, excepting theWeatherbury men, who as soon as they had seen the judge move offreturned home again to their work.
"Joseph, I seed you squeezing close to the carriage," said Coggan, asthey walked. "Did ye notice my lord judge's face?"
"I did," said Poorgrass. "I looked hard at en, as if I would readhis very soul; and there was mercy in his eyes--or to speak with theexact truth required of us at this solemn time, in the eye that wastowards me."
"Well, I hope for the best," said Coggan, "though bad that must be.However, I shan't go to the trial, and I'd advise the rest of yethat bain't wanted to bide away. 'Twill disturb his mind more thananything to see us there staring at him as if he were a show."
"The very thing I said this morning," observed Joseph, "'Justice iscome to weigh him in the balances,' I said in my reflectious way,'and if he's found wanting, so be it unto him,' and a bystander said'Hear, hear! A man who can talk like that ought to be heard.' But Idon't like dwelling upon it, for my few words are my few words, andnot much; though the speech of some men is rumoured abroad as thoughby nature formed for such."
"So 'tis, Joseph. And now, neighbours, as I said, every man bide athome."
The resolution was adhered to; and all waited anxiously for the newsnext day. Their suspense was diverted, however, by a discovery whichwas made in the afternoon, throwing more light on Boldwood's conductand condition than any details which had preceded it.
That he had been from the time of Greenhill Fair until the fatalChristmas Eve in excited and unusual moods was known to those who hadbeen intimate with him; but nobody imagined that there had shown inhim unequivocal symptoms of the mental derangement which Bathshebaand Oak, alone of all others and at different times, had momentarilysuspected. In a locked closet was now discovered an extraordinarycollection of articles. There were several sets of ladies' dressesin the piece, of sundry expensive materials; silks and satins,poplins and velvets, all of colours which from Bathsheba's style ofdress might have been judged to be her favourites. There were twomuffs, sable and ermine. Above all there was a case of jewellery,containing four heavy gold bracelets and several lockets and rings,all of fine quality and manufacture. These things had been bought inBath and other towns from time to time, and brought home by stealth.They were all carefully packed in paper, and each package waslabelled "Bathsheba Boldwood," a date being subjoined six years inadvance in every instance.
These somewhat pathetic evidences of a mind crazed with care and lovewere the subject of discourse in Warren's malt-house when Oak enteredfrom Casterbridge with tidings of sentence. He came in the afternoon,and his face, as the kiln glow shone upon it, told the talesufficiently well. Boldwood, as every one supposed he would do, hadpleaded guilty, and had been sentenced to death.
The conviction that Boldwood had not been morally responsible for hislater acts now became general. Facts elicited previous to the trialhad pointed strongly in the same direction, but they had not been ofsufficient weight to lead to an order for an examination into thestate of Boldwood's mind. It was astonishing, now that a presumptionof insanity was raised, how many collateral circumstances wereremembered to which a condition of mental disease seemed to affordthe only explanation--among others, the unprecedented neglect of hiscorn stacks in the previous summer.
A petition was addressed to the Home Secretary, advancingthe circumstances which appeared to justify a request for areconsideration of the sentence. It was not "numerously signed"by the inhabitants of Casterbridge, as is usual in such cases, forBoldwood had never made many friends over the counter. The shopsthought it very natural that a man who, by importing direct fromthe producer, had daringly set aside the first great principle ofprovincial existence, namely that God made country villages to supplycustomers to county towns, should have confused ideas about theDecalogue. The prompters were a few merciful men who had perhaps toofeelingly considered the facts latterly unearthed, and the result wasthat evidence was taken which it was hoped might remove the crime ina moral point of view, out of the category of wilful murder, and leadit to be regarded as a sheer outcome of madness.
The upshot of the petition was waited for in Weatherbury withsolicitous interest. The execution had been fixed for eight o'clockon a Saturday morning about a fortnight after the sentence waspassed, and up to Friday afternoon no answer had been received. Atthat time Gabriel came from Casterbridge Gaol, whither he had beento wish Boldwood good-bye, and turned down a by-street to avoid thetown. When past the last house he heard a hammering, and liftinghis bowed head he looked back for a moment. Over the chimneys hecould see the upper part of the gaol entrance, rich and glowingin the afternoon sun, and some moving figures were there. Theywere carpenters lifting a post into a vertical position within theparapet. He withdrew his eyes quickly, and hastened on.
It was dark when he reached home, and half the village was out tomeet him.
"No tidings," Gabriel said, wearily. "And I'm afraid there's nohope. I've been with him more than two hours."
"Do ye think he REALLY was out of his mind when he did it?" saidSmallbury.
"I can't honestly say that I do," Oak replied. "However, that we cantalk of another time. Has there been any change in mistress thisafternoon?"
"None at all."
"Is she downstairs?"
"No. And getting on so nicely as she was too. She's but very littlebetter now again than she was at Christmas. She keeps on askingif you be come, and if there's news, till one's wearied out wi'answering her. Shall I go and say you've come?"
"No," said Oak. "There's a chance yet; but I couldn't stay in townany longer--after seeing him too. So Laban--Laban is here, isn'the?"
"Yes," said Tall.
"What I've arranged is, that you shall ride to town the last thingto-night; leave here about nine, and wait a while there, getting homeabout twelve. If nothing has been received by eleven to-night, theysay there's no chance at all."
"I do so hope his life will be spared," said Liddy. "If it is not,she'll go out of her mind too. Poor thing; her sufferings have beendreadful; she deserves anybody's pity."
"Is she altered much?" said Coggan.
"If you haven't seen poor mistress since Christmas, you wouldn't knowher," said Liddy. "Her eyes are so miserable that she's not the samewoman. Only two years ago she was a romping girl, and now she'sthis!"
Laban departed as directed, and at eleven o'clock that night severalof the villagers strolled along the road to Casterbridge and awaitedhis arrival--among them Oak, and nearly all the rest of Bathsheba'smen. Gabriel's anxiety was great that Boldwood might be saved, eventhough in his conscience he felt that he ought to die; for there hadbeen qualities in the farmer which Oak loved. At last, when they allwere weary the tramp of a horse was heard in the distance--
First dead, as if on turf it trode, Then, clattering on the village road In other pace than forth he yode.
"We shall soon know now, one
way or other." said Coggan, and they allstepped down from the bank on which they had been standing into theroad, and the rider pranced into the midst of them.
"Is that you, Laban?" said Gabriel.
"Yes--'tis come. He's not to die. 'Tis confinement during HerMajesty's pleasure."
"Hurrah!" said Coggan, with a swelling heart. "God's above the devilyet!"
