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CHAPTER LV - THE MARCH FOLLOWING -- "BATHSHEBA BOLDWOOD"
WE pass rapidly on into the month of March, to a breezy day
without sunshine, frost, or dew. On Yalbury Hill, about
midway between Weatherbury and Casterbridge, where the
turnpike road passes over the crest, a numerous concourse of
people had gathered, the eyes of the greater number being
frequently stretched afar in a northerly direction. The
groups consisted of a throng of idlers, a party of javelin-
men, and two trumpeters, and in the midst were carriages,
one of which contained the high sheriff. With the idlers,
many of whom had mounted to the top of a cutting formed for
the road, were several Weatherbury men and boys -- among
others Poorgrass, Coggan, and Cain Ball.
At the end of half-an-hour a faint dust was seen in the
expected quarter, and shortly after a travelling-carriage,
bringing one of the two judges on the Western Circuit, came
up the hill and halted on the top. The judge changed
carriages whilst a flourish was blown by the big-cheeked
trumpeters, and a procession being formed of the vehicles
and javelin-men, they all proceeded towards the town,
excepting the Weatherbury men, who as soon as they had seen
the judge move off returned home again to their work.
"Joseph, I seed you squeezing close to the carriage," said
Coggan, as they walked. "Did ye notice my lord judge's
face?"
"I did," said Poorgrass. "I looked hard at en, as if I
would read his very soul; and there was mercy in his eyes --
or to speak with the exact truth required of us at this
solemn time, in the eye that was towards 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 ye that bain't wanted to bide away. 'Twill
disturb his mind more than anything to see 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 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 I don't like dwelling
upon it, for my few words are my few words, and not much;
though the speech of some men is rumoured abroad as though
by nature formed for such."
"So 'tis, Joseph. And now, neighbours, as I said, every man
bide at home."
The resolution was adhered to; and all waited anxiously for
the news next day. Their suspense was diverted, however, by
a discovery which was made in the afternoon, throwing more
light on Boldwood's conduct and condition than any details
which had preceded it.
That he had been from the time of Greenhill Fair until the
fatal Christmas Eve in excited and unusual moods was known
to those who had been intimate with him; but nobody imagined
that there had shown in him unequivocal symptoms of the
mental derangement which Bathsheba and Oak, alone of all
others and at different times, had momentarily suspected.
In a locked closet was now discovered an extraordinary
collection of articles. There were several sets of ladies'
dresses in the piece, of sundry expensive materials; silks
and satins, poplins and velvets, all of colours which from
Bathsheba's style of dress might have been judged to be her
favourites. There were two muffs, 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 in
Bath and other towns from time to time, and brought home by
stealth. They were all carefully packed in paper, and each
package was labelled "Bathsheba Boldwood," a date being
subjoined six years in advance in every instance.
These somewhat pathetic evidences of a mind crazed with care
and love were the subject of discourse in Warren's malt-
house when Oak entered from Casterbridge with tidings of
sentence. He came in the afternoon, and his face, as the
kiln glow shone upon it, told the tale sufficiently well.
Boldwood, as every one supposed he would do, had pleaded
guilty, and had been sentenced to death.
The conviction that Boldwood had not been morally
responsible for his later acts now became general. Facts
elicited previous to the trial had pointed strongly in the
same direction, but they had not been of sufficient weight
to lead to an order for an examination into the state of
Boldwood's mind. It was astonishing, now that a presumption
of insanity was raised, how many collateral circumstances
were remembered to which a condition of mental disease
seemed to afford the only explanation -- among others, the
unprecedented neglect of his corn stacks in the previous
summer.
A petition was addressed to the Home Secretary, advancing
the circumstances which appeared to justify a request for a
reconsideration of the sentence. It was not "numerously
signed" by the inhabitants of Casterbridge, as is usual in
such cases, for Boldwood had never made many friends over
the counter. The shops thought it very natural that a man
who, by importing direct from the producer, had daringly set
aside the first great principle of provincial existence,
namely that God made country villages to supply customers to
county towns, should have confused ideas about the
Decalogue. The prompters were a few merciful men who had
perhaps too feelingly considered the facts latterly
unearthed, and the result was that evidence was taken which
it was hoped might remove the crime in a moral point of
view, out of the category of wilful murder, and lead it to
be regarded as a sheer outcome of madness.
The upshot of the petition was waited for in Weatherbury
with solicitous interest. The execution had been fixed for
eight o'clock on a Saturday morning about a fortnight after
the sentence was passed, and up to Friday afternoon no
answer had been received. At that time Gabriel came from
Casterbridge Gaol, whither he had been to wish Boldwood
good-bye, and turned down a by-street to avoid the town.
When past the last house he heard a hammering, and lifting
his bowed head he looked back for a moment. Over the
chimneys he could see the upper part of the gaol entrance,
rich and glowing in the afternoon sun, and some moving
figures were there. They were carpenters lifting a post
into a vertical position within the parapet. He withdrew
his eyes quickly, and hastened on.
It was dark when he reached home, and half the village was
out to meet him.
"No tidings," Gabriel said, wearily. "And I'm afraid
there's no hope. I've been with him more than two hours."
"Do ye think he REALLY was out of his mind when he did it?"
said Smallbury.
"I can't honestly say that I do," Oak replied. "However,
that we can talk of another time. Has there been any 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 at Christmas. She
keeps on asking if 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 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 town the last
thing to-night; leave here about nine, and wait a while
there, getting home about twelve. If nothing has been
received by eleven to-night, they say 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 been dreadful; she deserves anybody'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 so miserable
that she's not the same woman. Only two years ago she was a
romping girl, and now she's this!"
Laban departed as directed, and at eleven o'clock that night
several of the villagers strolled along the road to
Casterbridge and awaited his arrival -- among them Oak, and
nearly all the rest of Bathsheba's men. Gabriel's anxiety
was great that Boldwood might be saved, even though in his
conscience he felt that he ought to die; for there had been
qualities in the farmer which Oak loved. At last, when they
all were 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 all stepped down from the bank on which they had been
standing into the road, 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 her Majesty's pleasure."
"Hurrah!" said Coggan, with a swelling heart. "God's above
the devil yet!"
Content of CHAPTER LV - THE MARCH FOLLOWING -- "BATHSHEBA BOLDWOOD" [Thomas Hardy's novel: Far From The Madding Crowd]
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