Page 55 of Far from the Madding Crowd

THE MARCH FOLLOWING -- ”BATHSHEBA BOLDWOOD”

WE pass rapidly on into the month of March, to abreezy day without sunshine, frost, or dew. On Yai*-bury Hill, about midway between Weatherbury andCasterbridge, where the turnpike road passes overthe crest, a numerous concourse of people hadgathered, the eyes of the greater number being fre-quently stretched afar in a northerly direction. Thegroups consisted of a throng of idlers, a party ofjavelin-men, and two trumpeters, and in the midstwere carriages, one of which contained the highsheriff. With the idlers, many of whom had mountedto the top of a cutting formed for the road, were severalWeatherbury men and boys -- among others Poorgrass,Coggan, and Cain Ball.At the end of half-an-hour a faint dust was seen inthe expected quarter, and shortly after a travelling-carriage, bringing one of the two judges on the WesternCircuit, came up the hill and halted on the top. Thejudge changed carriages whilst a flourish was blownby the big-cheeked trumpeters, and a procession beingformed of the vehicles and javelin-men, they all pro-ceeded towards the town, excepting the Weatherburymen, who as soon as they had seen the judge moveoff returned home again to their work.”Joseph, I seed you squeezing close to the carriage,”said Coggan, as they walked. ”Did ye notice my lordjudge's face?””I did.” said Poorgrass. ”I looked hard at en, asif I would read his very soul; and there was mercyin his eyes -- or to speak with the exact truth requiredof us at this solemn time, in the eye that was towardsme.””Well, I hope for the best.” said Coggan, thoughbad that must be. However, I shan't go to the trial,and I'd advise the rest of ye that bain't wanted to bideaway. 'Twill disturb his mind more than anything tosee us there staring at him as if he were a show.””The very thing I said this morning.” observed Joseph,”Justice is come to weigh him in the balances,” I saidin my reflectious way, ”and if he's found wanting, sobe it unto him,” and a bystander said ”Hear, hear,A man who can talk like that ought to be heard.”But I don't like dwelling upon it, for my few wordsare my few words, and not much; though the speechof some men is rumoured abroad as though by natureformed for such.””So 'tis, Joseph. And now, neighbours, as I said,every man bide at home.”The resolution was adhered to; and all waitedanxiously for the news next day. Their suspensewas diverted, however, by a discovery which was madein the afternoon, throwing more light on Boldwood'sconduct and condition than any details which hadpreceded it.That he had been from the time of Greenhill Fairuntil the fatal Christmas Eve in excited and unusualmoods was known to those who had been intimatewith him; but nobody imagined that there had shownin him unequivocal symptoms of the mental derange-ment which Bathsheba and Oak, alone of all othersand at different times, had momentarily suspected.In a locked closet was now discovered an extraordinarycollection of articles. There were several sets of ladies”dresses in the piece, of sundry expensive materials;silks and satins, poplins and velvets, all of colourswhich from Bathsheba's style of dress might have beenjudged to be her favourites. There were two muffs,sable and ermine. Above all there was a case ofjewellery, containing four heavy gold bracelets andseveral lockets and rings, all of fine quality and manu-facture. These things had been bought in Bath andother towns from time to time, and brought home bystealth. They were all carefully packed in paper, andeach package was labelled ” Bathsheba Boldwood.” adate being subjoined six years in advance in everyinstance.These somewhat pathetic evidences of a mind crazedwith care and love were the subject of discourse inWarren's malt-house when Oak entered from Caster-bridge with tidings of the kiln glow shone uponit, told the tale sufficiently well. Boldwood, as everyone supposed he would do, had pleaded guilty, andhad been sentenced to death.The conviction that Boldwood had not been morallyresponsible for his later acts now became general. Factselicited previous to the trial had pointed strongly in thesame direction, but they had not been of sufficient weightto lead to an order for an examination into the stateof Boldwood's mind. It was astonishing, now that apresumption of insanity was raised, how many collateralcircumstances were remembered to which a conditionof mental disease seemed to afford the only explanation -- among others, the unprecedented neglect of his cornstacks in the previous summer.A petition was addressed to the Home Secretary,advancing the circumstances which appeared to justifya request for a reconsideration of the sentence. It wasnot ”numerously signed” by the inhabitants of Caster-bridge, as is usual in such cases, for Boldwood hadnever made many friends over the counter. The shopsthought it very natural that a man who, by importingdirect from the producer, had daringly set aside thefirst great principle of provincial existence, namelythat God made country villages to supply customersto county towns, should have confused ideas aboutthe Decalogue. The prompters were a few mercifulmen who had perhaps too feelingly considered thefacts latterly unearthed, and the result was that evidencewas taken which it was hoped might remove the crimein a moral point of view, out of the category of wilfulmurder, and lead it to be regarded as a sheer outcomeof madness.The upshot of the petition was waited for in Weather-bury with solicitous interest. The execution had beenfixed for eight o'clock on a Saturday morning about afortnight after the sentence was passed, and up toFriday afternoon no answer had been received. Atthat time Gabriel came from Casterbridge Gaol, whitherhe had been to wish Boldwood good-bye, and turneddown a by-street to avoid the town. When past the lasthouse he heard a hammering, and lifting his bowedhead he looked back for a moment. Over the chimneyshe could see the upper part of the gaol entrance, richand glowing in the afternoon sun, and some movingfigures were there. They were carpenters lifting a postinto a vertical position within the parapet. He with-drew his eyes quickly, and hastened on.It was dark when he reached home, and half thevillage was out to meet him.”No tidings.” Gabriel said, wearily. ”And I'm afraidthere's no hope. I've been with him more than twohours.””Do ye think he REALLY was out of his mind when hedid it?” said Smallbury.”I can't honestly say that I do.” Oak replied. ”How-ever, that we can talk of another time. Has there beenany change in mistress this afternoon?””None at all.””Is she downstairs?””No. And getting on so nicely as she was too.She's but very little better now again than she was atChristmas. She keeps on asking if you be come, andif 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 Icouldn't stay in town any longer -- after seeing him too,So Laban -- Laban is here, isn't he?””Yes.” said Tall.”What I've arranged is, that you shall ride to townthe last thing to-night; leave here about nine, and waita while there, getting home about twelve. If nothinghas been received by eleven to-night, they say there'sno 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 been dreadful; she deserves any-body's pity.””Is she altered much?” said Coggan.”If you haven't seen poor mistress since Christmas,you wouldn't know her.” said Liddy. ”Her eyes are somiserable that she's not the same woman. Only twoyears ago she was a romping girl, and now she's this!”Laban departed as directed, and at eleven o'clockthat night several of the villagers strolled along theroad to Casterbridge and awaited his arrival-amongthem Oak, and nearly all the rest of Bathsheba's men.Gabriel's anxiety was great that Boldwood might besaved, even though in his conscience he felt that heought to die; for there had been qualities in the farmerwhich Oak loved. At last, when they all were wearythe tramp of a horse was heard in the distance --First dead, as if on turf it trode,Then, clattering on the village roadIn other pace than forth he yode.”We shall soon know now, one way or other.” saidCoggan, and they all stepped down from the bank onwhich they had been standing into the road, and therider pranced into the midst of them.”Is that you, Laban?” said Gabriel.”Yes -- 'tis come. He's not to die. 'Tis confine-ment during her Majesty's pleasure.””Hurrah!” said Coggan, with a swelling heart. ”God'sabove the devil yet!”



CHAPTER LVI