Works of Thomas Hardy discussion
Far from the Madding Crowd
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Far From the Madding Crowd 5th Thread Chapter 39 - 47
This somber scene again uses descriptions of nature, the mist and fog of autumn, to underline the emotional as well as physical atmosphere of the setting. Are we surprised to find that Fanny was pregnant? Looking back, so many of the signs were there that she was. I think Bathsheba suspected, as she questioned Poorgrass about how Fanny came to die.
Poorgrass is not exactly the most ideal person to be transporting a coffin through a silent countryside. He’s most comfortable and at home around the other members his community - the farm hands. Some of whom have now met not at the malt-house but at another drinking hole. Now the gossip centers around Fanny Robbin and the parish’s role in dealing with her, in the absence of family. Poor Fanny may have been without friends or family at the time of her death, but now she has become the collective responsibility of the parish and its inhabitants.
The farm hands again mix various belief systems in stitching together a view of their own world and their responsibility for village affairs. Their digressions lend another comic touch to a narrative that has become increasingly dramatic and grave, as alcohol eases Poorgrass’s sense of unease.
Once again, it is Gabriel’s arrival that puts an end to the revelry, as he reminds the farm hands of the attitude that they should take in response to Fanny’s death—even if Clark, Coggan, and Poorgrass take a more pragmatic view regarding the cycle of life and death.
Usually, information like that of Fanny’s relationship to Troy travels rapidly from person to person—very few are as insistent on maintaining such respect for another as Gabriel and Boldwood, who are also, of course, influenced by their feelings for Bathsheba.
Bathsheba is dealing with a number of contradictory feelings; she understands that Fanny and Troy had a relationship, but she still feels pity for Fanny’s fate, and responsibility for her uncle’s former servant. And of course, Gabriel continues to put thoughts of Bathsheba before all, as he seeks to at least delay the pain that this knowledge would cause.
Poorgrass is not exactly the most ideal person to be transporting a coffin through a silent countryside. He’s most comfortable and at home around the other members his community - the farm hands. Some of whom have now met not at the malt-house but at another drinking hole. Now the gossip centers around Fanny Robbin and the parish’s role in dealing with her, in the absence of family. Poor Fanny may have been without friends or family at the time of her death, but now she has become the collective responsibility of the parish and its inhabitants.
The farm hands again mix various belief systems in stitching together a view of their own world and their responsibility for village affairs. Their digressions lend another comic touch to a narrative that has become increasingly dramatic and grave, as alcohol eases Poorgrass’s sense of unease.
Once again, it is Gabriel’s arrival that puts an end to the revelry, as he reminds the farm hands of the attitude that they should take in response to Fanny’s death—even if Clark, Coggan, and Poorgrass take a more pragmatic view regarding the cycle of life and death.
Usually, information like that of Fanny’s relationship to Troy travels rapidly from person to person—very few are as insistent on maintaining such respect for another as Gabriel and Boldwood, who are also, of course, influenced by their feelings for Bathsheba.
Bathsheba is dealing with a number of contradictory feelings; she understands that Fanny and Troy had a relationship, but she still feels pity for Fanny’s fate, and responsibility for her uncle’s former servant. And of course, Gabriel continues to put thoughts of Bathsheba before all, as he seeks to at least delay the pain that this knowledge would cause.
A little more . . .
Malbrook - an 18th century French lullaby, sung to the tune of “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow”, “Malbrouck s’en va-t-en guerre” translates to “Malbrook goes to war”. Here, as elsewhere in the chapter, Hardy is creating a juxtaposition of life and death. A balance of frivolity and jocularity with solemnity and grief.
parish board . . . half-crown - a cheap board coffin supplied by the parish; bell-shilling: shilling/ 12 pence paid to a bellringer to toll the church bell at funerals; grave half-crown: 2 shillings and sixpence/thirty pence, the cost of a pauper’s grave.
horned . . . smoky house - the devil in Hell. Coggan feels more comfortable with euphemisms, and not naming the devil outright. (superstitious)
found me in tracts - supplied with religious pamphlets (tracts)
drink … for tomorrow we may be like her - paraphrasing Isaiah 22:13 and Corinthians 15:32 “let us eat and drink; for tomorrow we shall die”.
Malbrook - an 18th century French lullaby, sung to the tune of “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow”, “Malbrouck s’en va-t-en guerre” translates to “Malbrook goes to war”. Here, as elsewhere in the chapter, Hardy is creating a juxtaposition of life and death. A balance of frivolity and jocularity with solemnity and grief.
parish board . . . half-crown - a cheap board coffin supplied by the parish; bell-shilling: shilling/ 12 pence paid to a bellringer to toll the church bell at funerals; grave half-crown: 2 shillings and sixpence/thirty pence, the cost of a pauper’s grave.
horned . . . smoky house - the devil in Hell. Coggan feels more comfortable with euphemisms, and not naming the devil outright. (superstitious)
found me in tracts - supplied with religious pamphlets (tracts)
drink … for tomorrow we may be like her - paraphrasing Isaiah 22:13 and Corinthians 15:32 “let us eat and drink; for tomorrow we shall die”.
Thank you everyone who read through all these long posts! I hope I did justice to summarizing the dialogue of Poorgrass, Coggan and Clark. Please feel free to fill in anything I left out. There is much of it that, I admit, I don't completely understand, but I think we all get the idea that these men are getting more and more inebriated as the chapter goes on. And they are rationalizing why it's a perfectly reasonable thing for them to do. Which was, at least, humorous. No dogs being stoned, or horses being lashed (thank goodness) in this chapter.
We have now come to the end of Installment 9. We will take Tuesday off, and resume with Installment 10, Chapter 43 on Wednesday.
Over to you!
We have now come to the end of Installment 9. We will take Tuesday off, and resume with Installment 10, Chapter 43 on Wednesday.
Over to you!
Bridget, you have excelled yourself here! Thank you so much 😊
I found the descriptions here so evocative, and could really feel that damp clammy atmosphere, (it's a bit like that today!) and the misty gloom where you cannot see the difference between the rain-laden sky and the Earth. Poor Joseph ... I don't think I would have liked being on my own there at that time with a coffin behind me either.
Thomas Hardy keeps it entirely realistic, not heightening any spooky atmosphere, and then we have the amusing part in the inn. He describes the tipsy locals so affectionately that it makes me smile too. You can see their reasoning, even though as it turned out so many people were inconvenienced. Plus of course we now have the finger of fate determining that Fanny's coffin rests in Bathsheba's parlour - and that it contains more than it now says!
Gabriel must have wrestled with his conscience before he rubbed out the two extra words. But he seems to have been the only one in the world who would have known that Fanny was with child (albeit some might suspect, as Bridget says). He did what he thought was best for Bathsheba, as he always does.
We hold our breath to see how this may turn out!
I found the descriptions here so evocative, and could really feel that damp clammy atmosphere, (it's a bit like that today!) and the misty gloom where you cannot see the difference between the rain-laden sky and the Earth. Poor Joseph ... I don't think I would have liked being on my own there at that time with a coffin behind me either.
Thomas Hardy keeps it entirely realistic, not heightening any spooky atmosphere, and then we have the amusing part in the inn. He describes the tipsy locals so affectionately that it makes me smile too. You can see their reasoning, even though as it turned out so many people were inconvenienced. Plus of course we now have the finger of fate determining that Fanny's coffin rests in Bathsheba's parlour - and that it contains more than it now says!
Gabriel must have wrestled with his conscience before he rubbed out the two extra words. But he seems to have been the only one in the world who would have known that Fanny was with child (albeit some might suspect, as Bridget says). He did what he thought was best for Bathsheba, as he always does.
We hold our breath to see how this may turn out!
And a little more ...
The almshouse in South Street, where Joseph Poorgrass rode his cart, was called "Napper's Mite", and built in 1616. The street frontage was rebuilt in 1842, so it was there at the time of this novel. Since 1955 the building has been used as shops and offices.

photograph from 2022 by Claire Onions
Thomas Hardy's "Roytown", where Joseph has a mug of ale in the Bucks Head is actually Troytown between Puddletown ("Weatherbury") and Dorchester ("Casterbridge"). It is now just a farm and cottages, but there is an old brick and cob outbuilding opposite the farm which may have been an inn, and "Buck's Head" is a typical name for a pub.
As Bridget says there is a fair bit of dialect in this chapter, so do ask if anything stumps you!
The almshouse in South Street, where Joseph Poorgrass rode his cart, was called "Napper's Mite", and built in 1616. The street frontage was rebuilt in 1842, so it was there at the time of this novel. Since 1955 the building has been used as shops and offices.

photograph from 2022 by Claire Onions
Thomas Hardy's "Roytown", where Joseph has a mug of ale in the Bucks Head is actually Troytown between Puddletown ("Weatherbury") and Dorchester ("Casterbridge"). It is now just a farm and cottages, but there is an old brick and cob outbuilding opposite the farm which may have been an inn, and "Buck's Head" is a typical name for a pub.
As Bridget says there is a fair bit of dialect in this chapter, so do ask if anything stumps you!

Hardy has been including the theme of Time (clocks, watches, etc) throughout the story. Time is slipping away as Poorgrass is drinking while the Parson is waiting. The cycle of life and death is another use of Time.
Hardy is again using the local men as a "Greek chorus" giving us information, as well as adding humor to lighten a sad situation.

My favorite line was “The air was as an eye suddenly struck blind.” I've frequently driven in fog (though a car, not a wagon!), and this is exactly what it feels like when all at once you can see nothing.
I also thought it interesting that Hardy spells out each man's motivations, when he says "... thanks to Boldwood's reticence and Oak's generosity ..." Bathsheba hadn't been told about Troy and Fanny.
Yes, I was pleased he made that clear too Kathleen! There is a limit to how much ambiguity we can enjoy.
Connie wrote: "Thank you, Bridget and Jean, for the great information!
Hardy has been including the theme of Time (clocks, watches, etc) throughout the story. Time is slipping away as Poorgrass is drinking while..."
That's a great observation, that the farmhands are like a "Greek Chorus", I hadn't thought of that, it's really true. And yes, once you know about the clock motif, you see it everywhere. Including time evaporating and the consequences of that.
Hardy has been including the theme of Time (clocks, watches, etc) throughout the story. Time is slipping away as Poorgrass is drinking while..."
That's a great observation, that the farmhands are like a "Greek Chorus", I hadn't thought of that, it's really true. And yes, once you know about the clock motif, you see it everywhere. Including time evaporating and the consequences of that.
Kathleen wrote: "My favorite line was “The air was as an eye suddenly struck blind.” I've frequently driven in fog (though a car, not a wagon!), and this is exactly what it feels like when all at once you can see nothing..."
I loved that line too, Kathleen. So glad you pointed it out.
I loved that line too, Kathleen. So glad you pointed it out.

I feel sorry for Fanny as unfortunately, Poorgrass was not a very considerate escort to her final resting place. I am glad that Gabriel took her the last few miles and made sure that the appearance of Fanny didn't greet Bathsheba with additional sad news. I wonder what will happen when Troy comes upon the coffin ...
Bionic Jean wrote: " Plus of course we now have the finger of fate determining that Fanny's coffin rests in Bathsheba's parlour - and that it contains more than it now says!..."
Oh thank you Jean, for pointing this out. With Thomas Hardy it's so important to pay attention to fate.
Oh thank you Jean, for pointing this out. With Thomas Hardy it's so important to pay attention to fate.
Installment 10:
Chapter 43-47

Her Tears Fell Fast, Helen Paterson, Victorian Web
Chapter 43: Fanny's Revenge
Bathsheba bids Liddy goodnight, saying she doesn’t need her anymore, though Liddy offers to remain with the body herself. Bathsheba asks if Liddy heard anything strange said about Fanny, then bursts into tears. Liddy, astonished, says no. Bathsheba apologizes and bids Liddy good night.
Bathsheba is lonely and miserable now. Bringing Fanny’s body into the house came from a strange mix of emotions. In part she is fighting against her own instincts to be uncharitable towards the woman Troy loved first and doing the right thing by her uncle's employee. Because Bathsheba does still love Troy, and suspects she needs to compete with Fanny’s memory.
Liddy taps at the door and enters, saying that Mary-ann has heard a rumor, that there’s two people in the coffin. Bathsheba trembles and says that’s not written on the cover. Others don’t believe it either, Liddy says, and Gabriel is saying that this story was that of another poor girl.
Bathsheba gazes into the fire for hours in contemplation. ”The sadness of Fanny Robin’s fate did not make Bathsheba’s glorious although . . . their fates might be supposed to stand in some respects as contrasts to each other”
She can imagine a connection between herself and Fanny’s tragedy, which Gabriel and Boldwood could not suspect, since they didn’t know she met Fanny on the road.
Bathsheba longs for a stronger friend to help her, but there’s no cooler woman than herself on the farm. She wishes she could go to Gabriel. If she asked him for the truth, honor would compel him to answer her honestly.
Bathsheba walks to Gabriel’s cottage. There’s a light on and Gabriel is reading, then he looks at his watch and gets up. Bathsheba can’t bring herself to tap at the window. She lingers, watching Gabriel appear at the upstairs window and kneel to pray. The picture contrasts with her own agitation and rebellion, convincing her that she must bear her sorrow alone. She returns home.
After a few moments, she enters the room and, without thinking, opens the coffin. At the girl’s side is a newborn baby wrapped in white linen. Fanny is framed in her blonde hair, the color of Troy’s lock.
Bathsheba begins to weep. In death, Fanny has transformed her sorry condition into a grand one, her humiliation and failure to triumph and success. Bathsheba imagines dying herself—but this would only be a copy of her rival. She cries that she could have been angry and cruel to Fanny alive but cannot now that she’s dead.
Recalling Gabriel praying, Bathsheba does the same. In a kind of atonement, she takes flowers from a vase and lays them around Fanny’s head. Suddenly, Troy enters the hall, looking in on the scene with confusion. He blankly asks what’s happened. Bathsheba cries that she must go out. But Troy insists she stay they enter the room side by side. Troy looks into the coffin. Bathsheba asks if he knows her, he admits he does. He sinks forward, and gently kisses Fanny.
Bathsheba springs towards him, embracing him and begging him to kiss her too. Troy looks at her, bewildered, he can’t believe this is his proud wife. He says he won’t kiss her. Fanny is more to him dead than Bathsheba ever was or will be. He would have married her if he hadn’t been tempted by Bathsheba’s flirting ways. He turns to Fanny and says that in the sight of heaven she is his "darling wife". Bathsheba wails and asks what, then, she is. Troy says she is nothing to him. She turns and races out.
Chapter 43-47

Her Tears Fell Fast, Helen Paterson, Victorian Web
Chapter 43: Fanny's Revenge
Bathsheba bids Liddy goodnight, saying she doesn’t need her anymore, though Liddy offers to remain with the body herself. Bathsheba asks if Liddy heard anything strange said about Fanny, then bursts into tears. Liddy, astonished, says no. Bathsheba apologizes and bids Liddy good night.
Bathsheba is lonely and miserable now. Bringing Fanny’s body into the house came from a strange mix of emotions. In part she is fighting against her own instincts to be uncharitable towards the woman Troy loved first and doing the right thing by her uncle's employee. Because Bathsheba does still love Troy, and suspects she needs to compete with Fanny’s memory.
Liddy taps at the door and enters, saying that Mary-ann has heard a rumor, that there’s two people in the coffin. Bathsheba trembles and says that’s not written on the cover. Others don’t believe it either, Liddy says, and Gabriel is saying that this story was that of another poor girl.
Bathsheba gazes into the fire for hours in contemplation. ”The sadness of Fanny Robin’s fate did not make Bathsheba’s glorious although . . . their fates might be supposed to stand in some respects as contrasts to each other”
She can imagine a connection between herself and Fanny’s tragedy, which Gabriel and Boldwood could not suspect, since they didn’t know she met Fanny on the road.
Bathsheba longs for a stronger friend to help her, but there’s no cooler woman than herself on the farm. She wishes she could go to Gabriel. If she asked him for the truth, honor would compel him to answer her honestly.
Bathsheba walks to Gabriel’s cottage. There’s a light on and Gabriel is reading, then he looks at his watch and gets up. Bathsheba can’t bring herself to tap at the window. She lingers, watching Gabriel appear at the upstairs window and kneel to pray. The picture contrasts with her own agitation and rebellion, convincing her that she must bear her sorrow alone. She returns home.
After a few moments, she enters the room and, without thinking, opens the coffin. At the girl’s side is a newborn baby wrapped in white linen. Fanny is framed in her blonde hair, the color of Troy’s lock.
Bathsheba begins to weep. In death, Fanny has transformed her sorry condition into a grand one, her humiliation and failure to triumph and success. Bathsheba imagines dying herself—but this would only be a copy of her rival. She cries that she could have been angry and cruel to Fanny alive but cannot now that she’s dead.
Recalling Gabriel praying, Bathsheba does the same. In a kind of atonement, she takes flowers from a vase and lays them around Fanny’s head. Suddenly, Troy enters the hall, looking in on the scene with confusion. He blankly asks what’s happened. Bathsheba cries that she must go out. But Troy insists she stay they enter the room side by side. Troy looks into the coffin. Bathsheba asks if he knows her, he admits he does. He sinks forward, and gently kisses Fanny.
Bathsheba springs towards him, embracing him and begging him to kiss her too. Troy looks at her, bewildered, he can’t believe this is his proud wife. He says he won’t kiss her. Fanny is more to him dead than Bathsheba ever was or will be. He would have married her if he hadn’t been tempted by Bathsheba’s flirting ways. He turns to Fanny and says that in the sight of heaven she is his "darling wife". Bathsheba wails and asks what, then, she is. Troy says she is nothing to him. She turns and races out.
Bathsheba’s loneliness now stems from the fact that she is far more aware of the pain and suffering, not just excitement, that life can hold. She now recognizes that life, including love, is never straightforward.
As Bathsheba sits before the fire, she begins to think through what she knows and suspects more explicitly than before. Again, Bathsheba recognizes the peculiar isolation of her situation as both woman and figure in authority. Here, too, she begins to see her three suitors and their characters more clearly than before.
.
Part of Bathsheba’s loss of pride and realization that she must pay the consequences of her actions is a renewed cold-bloodedness, not just in terms of her authority over the farm, but for any decision that will give her greater knowledge and help her decide what to do next . . . and she opens the coffin.
Despite her recent resolve and determination, this new sight is almost too much for Bathsheba, who is now faced with proof not only of her husband’s preference of Fanny over her, but also of the true ramifications of her mistake.
At the beginning of the novel, Gabriel had peered into a private scene between Bathsheba and her aunt; now Bathsheba does the same thing to him. Even though she couldn’t bring herself to call on Gabriel’s guidance, Bathsheba draws strength from his example. Her wild, distraught emotions have eased into a somber show of mourning when Troy bursts in. Bathsheba has now recognized the nature of Fanny’s and Troy’s relationship, but she still loves Troy herself and seeks to respond to Fanny’s death with him like a true couple—a desire that is cruelly thwarted when Troy kisses Fanny.
Bathsheba recognizes that, in death, Fanny has triumphed over her in Troy’s affections, but she still cannot rid herself of the feelings she has for her husband. Troy’s teasing, flirtatious demeanor, meanwhile, has deformed into cruelty. At the same time, he too is realizing that one’s actions have consequences and that he must pay penance himself for the lack of concern he showed to Fanny.
As Bathsheba sits before the fire, she begins to think through what she knows and suspects more explicitly than before. Again, Bathsheba recognizes the peculiar isolation of her situation as both woman and figure in authority. Here, too, she begins to see her three suitors and their characters more clearly than before.
.
Part of Bathsheba’s loss of pride and realization that she must pay the consequences of her actions is a renewed cold-bloodedness, not just in terms of her authority over the farm, but for any decision that will give her greater knowledge and help her decide what to do next . . . and she opens the coffin.
Despite her recent resolve and determination, this new sight is almost too much for Bathsheba, who is now faced with proof not only of her husband’s preference of Fanny over her, but also of the true ramifications of her mistake.
At the beginning of the novel, Gabriel had peered into a private scene between Bathsheba and her aunt; now Bathsheba does the same thing to him. Even though she couldn’t bring herself to call on Gabriel’s guidance, Bathsheba draws strength from his example. Her wild, distraught emotions have eased into a somber show of mourning when Troy bursts in. Bathsheba has now recognized the nature of Fanny’s and Troy’s relationship, but she still loves Troy herself and seeks to respond to Fanny’s death with him like a true couple—a desire that is cruelly thwarted when Troy kisses Fanny.
Bathsheba recognizes that, in death, Fanny has triumphed over her in Troy’s affections, but she still cannot rid herself of the feelings she has for her husband. Troy’s teasing, flirtatious demeanor, meanwhile, has deformed into cruelty. At the same time, he too is realizing that one’s actions have consequences and that he must pay penance himself for the lack of concern he showed to Fanny.
A little more . . . .
”Esther to this poor Vashti” - the Book of Esther, 1-2 tells of King Ahasuerus, whose queen, Vashti, repeatedly ‘refused to come at the king’s commandment’. In his wrath he calls for fair young virgins and gives Vashti’s estates and entitlements to the maiden of his choice, the beautiful Esther, a Jewish orphan in captivity, who is humble, obedient and dutiful.
Bellini - Giovanni Bellini (1430-1516), of the illustrious Venetian family of Renaissance painters, was noted for the serenity, majesty and luminous colors of his paintings which include many mythological themes. Hardy writes: “My art is to intensify the expression of things, as is done by . . . Bellini . . . so that the heart and inner meaning is made vividly visible”.
It was the Τετέλεσται[*] of her union with Troy. - Greek for “it is finished”; it alludes to the last words of Christ on the cross (John 19:30)
”Esther to this poor Vashti” - the Book of Esther, 1-2 tells of King Ahasuerus, whose queen, Vashti, repeatedly ‘refused to come at the king’s commandment’. In his wrath he calls for fair young virgins and gives Vashti’s estates and entitlements to the maiden of his choice, the beautiful Esther, a Jewish orphan in captivity, who is humble, obedient and dutiful.
Bellini - Giovanni Bellini (1430-1516), of the illustrious Venetian family of Renaissance painters, was noted for the serenity, majesty and luminous colors of his paintings which include many mythological themes. Hardy writes: “My art is to intensify the expression of things, as is done by . . . Bellini . . . so that the heart and inner meaning is made vividly visible”.
It was the Τετέλεσται[*] of her union with Troy. - Greek for “it is finished”; it alludes to the last words of Christ on the cross (John 19:30)
I realize these are some really long posts again today. I hope you won't mind just one more. I found this interesting.
According to my edition, much of this chapter was revised (by Hardy and sometimes Stephens) over time. One interesting example is this section:
” Her simple country nature, fed on old-fashioned principles, was troubled by that which would have troubled a woman of the world very little, both Fanny and her child, if she had one, being dead.”
That's probably what most of you read, but in the original manuscript it was written like this:
”This also sank to apathy after a time. But her thoughts, sluggish and confused at first, acquired more life as the minutes passed, and the dull misgiving in her brow and eyes suddenly gave way to the stillness of concentration”
The notes in my Penguin Edition have this to say of the revision: “This late revision (the first one above) is inapt: Bathsheba is town-bred, her ‘principles’ are not ‘old-fashioned’ but noticeably contemporary, and she is not struggling with the morality of the situation but with her own tortured feelings.”
I wanted to quote all those sections in their entirety because they present Bathsheba is different ways. And that makes me wonder, if all the editing and revising that has happened with this text, is part of the reason we find Bathsheba elusive and hard to define.
According to my edition, much of this chapter was revised (by Hardy and sometimes Stephens) over time. One interesting example is this section:
” Her simple country nature, fed on old-fashioned principles, was troubled by that which would have troubled a woman of the world very little, both Fanny and her child, if she had one, being dead.”
That's probably what most of you read, but in the original manuscript it was written like this:
”This also sank to apathy after a time. But her thoughts, sluggish and confused at first, acquired more life as the minutes passed, and the dull misgiving in her brow and eyes suddenly gave way to the stillness of concentration”
The notes in my Penguin Edition have this to say of the revision: “This late revision (the first one above) is inapt: Bathsheba is town-bred, her ‘principles’ are not ‘old-fashioned’ but noticeably contemporary, and she is not struggling with the morality of the situation but with her own tortured feelings.”
I wanted to quote all those sections in their entirety because they present Bathsheba is different ways. And that makes me wonder, if all the editing and revising that has happened with this text, is part of the reason we find Bathsheba elusive and hard to define.

This is brilliant, Bridget. I think you're onto something. The revision example you gave is so telling--the first version is so much better. It leads the reader to their own conclusions, whereas the revision leaves me scratching my head. (Which makes me wonder if it's Hardy's revisions, not his original prose, that I find hard to follow!)
Plenty of drama in this chapter! While Bathsheba's reaction to Troy's kiss was sad, I liked it for how real it seemed. What a mess she's in.

Maybe he is just angry at feeling guilty over Fanny's demise, and Bathsheba is a convenient scapegoat? In chapter 16, he didn't want to marry Fanny; so he put all the blame on her for the church mix-up and dismissed the matter from his mind as entirely Fanny's fault. That way he didn't have to internally take any blame. Here, he doesn't want to feel the full force of blame for his own cruel behavior; so he pushes some of the blame onto Bathsheba. "If Satan had not tempted me with that face of yours, and those cursed coquetries, I should have married her. I never had another thought till you came in my way." But of course, Bathsheba had no idea about Fanny in the beginning, so how could any of it be her fault? Her only possible blame is in ignoring Troy's bad reputation, but that's a matter of foolishness rather than guilt. In both cases, he is either gaslighting them (as Bridget said earlier) or he's a master at deluding himself.
I feel sorry for Bathsheba, but honestly, I am starting to find her a little annoying too. What further extremes will she have to go through to find enough self-respect to let go of expecting anything good from this obviously toxic attachment? The earlier Bathsheba was capricious, but she had at least an erratic strength of will.
Thanks as usual for the wonderful background information Bridget! Like Kathleen, I also find the revisions very interesting. The meaning is so drastically different, and the very fact that Hardy was trying to alter Bathsheba's motivations here indicates that he himself was not very sure about his characterization of her. Maybe he sensed that something in his characterization wasn't quite right, but he wasn't sure how to fix it?

Greg, I had forgotten Chapter 16 but that is true. He is a bit of always wanting what he doesn't have. I think there is a lot of guilt over Fanny but I think in some ways he did love her, but selfishly, and only comes to realize it when she is gone.
And Bathsheba! So farm management smart and half-witted about everything else. She runs over to Gabriel's because she needs his calm and sane truth, then to not actually ask him; then she finds out for herself and expects her husband to say 'oh well' to his dead former lover, and when he doesn't, pleads with him to love her more than he supposedly loved Fanny! He's a very ugly individual and Bathsheba has truly taken leave of her senses. I've given leniency for so much of her actions, but has she not really realized that her marriage is a sham and always has been?
Plenty of drama in this chapter! While Bathsheba's reaction to Troy's kiss was sad, I liked it for how real it seemed. What a mess she's in
Great comments everyone! Kathleen, I agree with the realness of Bathsheba's reaction to Troy, and the drama. I mean, opening up a sealed casket is so dramatic! It was fun to read though, and I liked that it didn't feel overly ghastly.
Pamela, I loved "Bathsheba has taken leave of her senses" and I find myself agreeing with Greg too that she is "annoying". I feel for her, in that I think she's been duped by Troy, but I like her better when she has "backbone".
Pam, you also said "Troy is a very ugly individual" - YES! And I'm
glad Greg reminded us of what takes place in Chapter 16 "All Saints' and All Souls'".
And speaking of that chapter, it was also not included in the original manuscript, though it was published in the original serialization in Cornhill Magazine. The history of that chapter is that it was "grafted" onto the proof sheets when Hardy also shortened the long malt-house scene in Chapter 15. Both these changes were made on the suggestion of the publisher, Leslie Stephen.
I'm mentioning it here, because without that Chapter 16, we might have a different view of Troy's feelings for Fanny. Though even in Chapter 11 "Melchester: snow: a meeting" Troy seems careless with Fanny's feeling. Its the chapter where Fanny talks to Troy outside his barracks.
Great comments everyone! Kathleen, I agree with the realness of Bathsheba's reaction to Troy, and the drama. I mean, opening up a sealed casket is so dramatic! It was fun to read though, and I liked that it didn't feel overly ghastly.
Pamela, I loved "Bathsheba has taken leave of her senses" and I find myself agreeing with Greg too that she is "annoying". I feel for her, in that I think she's been duped by Troy, but I like her better when she has "backbone".
Pam, you also said "Troy is a very ugly individual" - YES! And I'm
glad Greg reminded us of what takes place in Chapter 16 "All Saints' and All Souls'".
And speaking of that chapter, it was also not included in the original manuscript, though it was published in the original serialization in Cornhill Magazine. The history of that chapter is that it was "grafted" onto the proof sheets when Hardy also shortened the long malt-house scene in Chapter 15. Both these changes were made on the suggestion of the publisher, Leslie Stephen.
I'm mentioning it here, because without that Chapter 16, we might have a different view of Troy's feelings for Fanny. Though even in Chapter 11 "Melchester: snow: a meeting" Troy seems careless with Fanny's feeling. Its the chapter where Fanny talks to Troy outside his barracks.

Greg: Our thoughts converge here. I don’t have much to add to that. Well said!
Just musing: Could Sgt. Troy be a narcissist?
Bridget wrote: "And that makes me wonder, if all the editing and revising that has happened with this text, is part of the reason we find Bathsheba elusive and hard to define ..."
I think this is a very perceptive view! You've added quite a bit about Leslie Stephen's doubts, thank you. They were very much to the fore in this part of the novel. I'll quote just a little of the correspondence between him and Thomas Hardy, which gives context to the various later revisions.
"[This] must be prefaced by the general remark that I object as editor, not as critic, i.e. in the interest of a stupid public, not from my own taste.
I think that the reference to the cause of Fanny's death is unnecessarily emphasised. I should, I think, omit all references to it except just enough to indicate the true state of the case; and especially a conversation between your heroine and her maid, wh. is a little unpleasant. I have some doubts as to whether the baby is necessary at all and whether it would not be sufficient for Bathsheba to open the coffin in order to identify the dead woman with the person he met on the road. This is a point wh. you can consider. It certainly rather injures the story, and perhaps if the omission were made it might be restored on republication. But I am rather necessarily anxious to be on the safe side; and should somehow be glad to omit the baby."
(my underlines)
Thomas Hardy did not omit the baby at all, but he did abbreviate the descriptions he made of the baby's corpse, and missed out some graphic description of the little dead body, which was chilling. It sounds from what Bridget has told us, that he kept editing this part in later editions too.
Even so this chapter must have shocked the public, and the whole of it feels quite gothic to me, climaxing with Troy kissing Fanny's corpse, even with Bathsheba right next to him.
I think this is a very perceptive view! You've added quite a bit about Leslie Stephen's doubts, thank you. They were very much to the fore in this part of the novel. I'll quote just a little of the correspondence between him and Thomas Hardy, which gives context to the various later revisions.
"[This] must be prefaced by the general remark that I object as editor, not as critic, i.e. in the interest of a stupid public, not from my own taste.
I think that the reference to the cause of Fanny's death is unnecessarily emphasised. I should, I think, omit all references to it except just enough to indicate the true state of the case; and especially a conversation between your heroine and her maid, wh. is a little unpleasant. I have some doubts as to whether the baby is necessary at all and whether it would not be sufficient for Bathsheba to open the coffin in order to identify the dead woman with the person he met on the road. This is a point wh. you can consider. It certainly rather injures the story, and perhaps if the omission were made it might be restored on republication. But I am rather necessarily anxious to be on the safe side; and should somehow be glad to omit the baby."
(my underlines)
Thomas Hardy did not omit the baby at all, but he did abbreviate the descriptions he made of the baby's corpse, and missed out some graphic description of the little dead body, which was chilling. It sounds from what Bridget has told us, that he kept editing this part in later editions too.
Even so this chapter must have shocked the public, and the whole of it feels quite gothic to me, climaxing with Troy kissing Fanny's corpse, even with Bathsheba right next to him.
Bionic Jean wrote: " I'll quote just a little of the correspondence between him and Thomas Hardy, which gives context to the various later revisions. ..."
Jean this is excellent information, thank you for including it. You can tell from Stephen's letter how nervous this chapter made him, which I can appreciate, because - as you said - it must have been shocking to the public of the time. You can also tell, he's trying to be very diplomatic with Thomas Hardy. They must have had an interesting relationship.
And oh, yes the gothic feel is very much present!
Jean this is excellent information, thank you for including it. You can tell from Stephen's letter how nervous this chapter made him, which I can appreciate, because - as you said - it must have been shocking to the public of the time. You can also tell, he's trying to be very diplomatic with Thomas Hardy. They must have had an interesting relationship.
And oh, yes the gothic feel is very much present!
Chapter 44 Under a Tree: Reaction
Bathsheba pays no attention to where she’s going. She passes a thicket with oak and beech trees and enters to hide there. She sinks down by a trunk and closes her eyes. Later, gradually, she becomes aware of the call of sparrows, finches, and robins. Then she hears a ploughboy from her own farm approaching.
Through the feathery ferns Bathsheba watches her horses stop to drink at a pond across the way. Below her, is a swamp with a wet and poisonous feeling. Bathsheba rises, frightened now by the place. A schoolboy comes into sight, trying to memorize a prayer by repeating it over and over, a small bit of amusement amid Bathsheba’s tragedy.
Now she is anxious, hungry and thirsty. Suddenly she sees Liddy come along the road and calls out to her, only to discover she lost her voice by sleeping outside. Liddy makes her way through the swamp, and, teary-eyed, begins to question Bathsheba, who asks her not to. She asks if Fanny has been taken away yet. She’ll be taken away at nine, Liddy says. The two women walk through the forest, then Liddy leaves briefly to fetch some tea, food and a cloak for Bathsheba, who doesn’t want to go inside. Instead, they wander through the wood for another two hours.
Bathsheba first wonders if she might never go home again. Then she tells Liddy that only women without pride run away from their husbands. They return in a roundabout way to the house and enter at the back. She asks Liddy to make a disused attic comfortable for her to live in. She makes Liddy her confidante. She asks how she might pass time there. She dismisses Liddy’s suggestions of knitting, sewing, and samplers, and asks Liddy to bring some old books. They remain there all day, though Troy doesn’t appear in the neighborhood anyway.
Bathsheba watches, at six in the evening, the young village men gather for a game of fives. Their game soon ends abruptly, Liddy says. that it’s because men are putting up a grand tombstone in the churchyard.
Bathsheba pays no attention to where she’s going. She passes a thicket with oak and beech trees and enters to hide there. She sinks down by a trunk and closes her eyes. Later, gradually, she becomes aware of the call of sparrows, finches, and robins. Then she hears a ploughboy from her own farm approaching.
Through the feathery ferns Bathsheba watches her horses stop to drink at a pond across the way. Below her, is a swamp with a wet and poisonous feeling. Bathsheba rises, frightened now by the place. A schoolboy comes into sight, trying to memorize a prayer by repeating it over and over, a small bit of amusement amid Bathsheba’s tragedy.
Now she is anxious, hungry and thirsty. Suddenly she sees Liddy come along the road and calls out to her, only to discover she lost her voice by sleeping outside. Liddy makes her way through the swamp, and, teary-eyed, begins to question Bathsheba, who asks her not to. She asks if Fanny has been taken away yet. She’ll be taken away at nine, Liddy says. The two women walk through the forest, then Liddy leaves briefly to fetch some tea, food and a cloak for Bathsheba, who doesn’t want to go inside. Instead, they wander through the wood for another two hours.
Bathsheba first wonders if she might never go home again. Then she tells Liddy that only women without pride run away from their husbands. They return in a roundabout way to the house and enter at the back. She asks Liddy to make a disused attic comfortable for her to live in. She makes Liddy her confidante. She asks how she might pass time there. She dismisses Liddy’s suggestions of knitting, sewing, and samplers, and asks Liddy to bring some old books. They remain there all day, though Troy doesn’t appear in the neighborhood anyway.
Bathsheba watches, at six in the evening, the young village men gather for a game of fives. Their game soon ends abruptly, Liddy says. that it’s because men are putting up a grand tombstone in the churchyard.
Bathsheba takes comfort in her natural environment, and yet as is so often the case in the novel, nature proves to be a hostile environment just as often as it offers comfort and solace to the characters. Still, the eeriness of the swamp where Bathsheba has fled aligns with and confirms her own feelings of despair and alienation from the place she’s called her own.
Even at heightened moments of conflict and tragedy, the novel introduces picaresque details relating to the more humorous aspects of country life. Liddy proves herself to be a constant and loyal companion of Bathsheba, even if her mistress has been subject to wild emotions and temper. While Bathsheba knows she’ll have to face reality and her husband eventually, she can’t bear to do so quite yet.
After contemplating her situation alone in the swamp, Bathsheba has come to the conclusion that her pride—which has led her so astray in the past—will now force her to embrace a more dignified position rather than running away. All Bathsheba can do is try to mitigate the despair that she feels by distancing herself from Troy within their own home.
Even at heightened moments of conflict and tragedy, the novel introduces picaresque details relating to the more humorous aspects of country life. Liddy proves herself to be a constant and loyal companion of Bathsheba, even if her mistress has been subject to wild emotions and temper. While Bathsheba knows she’ll have to face reality and her husband eventually, she can’t bear to do so quite yet.
After contemplating her situation alone in the swamp, Bathsheba has come to the conclusion that her pride—which has led her so astray in the past—will now force her to embrace a more dignified position rather than running away. All Bathsheba can do is try to mitigate the despair that she feels by distancing herself from Troy within their own home.
A little more . . .
Here's a little bit about the "dismal" books, in case you are curious . . .
"Bring Beaumont and Fletcher’s Maid’s Tragedy, and the Mourning Bride, and—let me see—Night Thoughts, and the Vanity of Human Wishes."
-Beaumont and Fletcher’s Maid’s Tragedy - (1610) a sensational play featuring several suicides and murders
-William Congreve's The Mourning Bride - a tragedy of a woman whose father opposes her marriage to one of his enemies. The play contains the famous lines, "Heaven hath no rage, like love to hatred turned,/Nor Hell a fury, like a woman scorned"
-Edward Young's "Night Thoughts on Life, Death and Immortality" - (1742) a long, solemn, didactic poem exhorting repudiation of worldliness and preparation for death, the last judgment and eternity.
-Samuel Johnson's "The vanity of Human Wishes" - (1749) a poetic meditation on human aspirations and delusions urging resignation to God's will.
Those do sound dismal! Here's the more comic list of books . .
"No, they don’t; and I won’t read dismal books. Why should I read dismal books, indeed? Bring me Love in a Village, and Maid of the Mill, and Doctor Syntax, and some volumes of the Spectator.”
-Issac Bickerstaff's Love in a Village(1762) and The Maid of the Mill (1765) were comic operas
-William Combe's Doctor Syntax (1809-21) is a series of comic verses accompanying Thomas Rowland's caricatures of clergyman "in search of the picturesque"
-The Spectator a periodical edited by Addison and Steele in 1711-12 featured lively comic essays and character sketches
Here's a little bit about the "dismal" books, in case you are curious . . .
"Bring Beaumont and Fletcher’s Maid’s Tragedy, and the Mourning Bride, and—let me see—Night Thoughts, and the Vanity of Human Wishes."
-Beaumont and Fletcher’s Maid’s Tragedy - (1610) a sensational play featuring several suicides and murders
-William Congreve's The Mourning Bride - a tragedy of a woman whose father opposes her marriage to one of his enemies. The play contains the famous lines, "Heaven hath no rage, like love to hatred turned,/Nor Hell a fury, like a woman scorned"
-Edward Young's "Night Thoughts on Life, Death and Immortality" - (1742) a long, solemn, didactic poem exhorting repudiation of worldliness and preparation for death, the last judgment and eternity.
-Samuel Johnson's "The vanity of Human Wishes" - (1749) a poetic meditation on human aspirations and delusions urging resignation to God's will.
Those do sound dismal! Here's the more comic list of books . .
"No, they don’t; and I won’t read dismal books. Why should I read dismal books, indeed? Bring me Love in a Village, and Maid of the Mill, and Doctor Syntax, and some volumes of the Spectator.”
-Issac Bickerstaff's Love in a Village(1762) and The Maid of the Mill (1765) were comic operas
-William Combe's Doctor Syntax (1809-21) is a series of comic verses accompanying Thomas Rowland's caricatures of clergyman "in search of the picturesque"
-The Spectator a periodical edited by Addison and Steele in 1711-12 featured lively comic essays and character sketches

It's interesting to think about Bathsheba's choices in this situation. Would she have had much luck filing for divorce? Would any action she'd have taken risked her farm? I can see where she's coming from, to warn Liddy not to marry!


I did not know that! That's an interesting fact, Keith; thanks for sharing it.

1. her inheritance
2. the fire (chapter 6). Gabriel intervenes, while Bathsheba on her pony watches from a distance.
3. the storm (saved by Gabriel, though she offers some assistance, Chapters XXXI and XXXII
4. the seduction of Bathsheba by Troy with the sword
5. She reacts to the marriage proposals of Gabriel and Boldwood by withdrawing; she avoids them and limits conversations
6. *An anomaly: she DID send the Valentine, although Hardy presented it as a foolish, giddy act with no consequence anticipated.
7. Troy wastes her inheritance by gambling but she sees herself as a helpless victim. I.e.: Ch XXXIX.
O, Frank, it is cruel; it is foolish of you to take away my money so. We shall have to leave the farm; that will be the end of it!"
8. Bathsheba witnesses the pathetic Fanny speaking with her husband; instead of insisting upon charity for the poor woman, Troy tells her to ignore the woman. "'Stay where you are [as Bathsheba starts to climb off the carriage to help the nameless woman], and attend to the horse!' said Troy peremptorily, throwing her the reins and the whip. 'I'll see to the woman'"
Bathsheba obeys, despite " . . . the extreme poverty of the woman's garb, and the sadness of her face. " In other words, she does not follow her intuition or instincts; she merely reacts to Troy's commands.


Many more examples, and all in Ch 44 as she runs away and hides in the woods!!
Lee - It's usually said by biographers that Thomas Hardy banished his first wife Emma there, when their marriage had gone very sour. Yet he fell in love with her all over again, feeling guilt and sorrow, after she had died. We have read some of his retrospective poems about Emma.
Yes, Brian, such an interesting - and odd - bit of real life foreshadowing there. Well spotted!
Yes, Brian, such an interesting - and odd - bit of real life foreshadowing there. Well spotted!
So ... back to today's chapter 44, and thank you Bridget for such a full commentary.
I love the writing in this chapter, and found it far more evocative than ch 33. We really see how Bathsheba is a part of Nature here.
What does she do when hurt and pushed beyond emotional endurance? She flees like a wounded animal and hides in the "withering ferns" of the undergrowth. And what undergrowth this is - swamps that ooze putrescence - this perfectly echoes the desperation she feels. This part of Nature is foul and rotting. She gradually becomes aware of reality by watching the ploughboy, and is able to smile a little. When Liddy takes her indoors, she still wants to be alone, to hide far away from everyone at the top of the house, and heal.
Just like the "Hollow Amid the Ferns" chapter 28, this one is packed with symbolism. Remember there that Troy was described mainly in terms of a flashing blade, and a splash of red? Here we see withered red and yellow leaves tumbling on to Bathsheba. She shakes them from her dress and they flutter away ... clear symbolism here that she is attempting to brush away her sadness and feelings - her infatuation with Troy. Thomas Hardy pointedly says they are "like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing". This is an allusion to Ode to the West Wind by Percy Bysshe Shelley:
"Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead
Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter feeling".
This entire episode has an air of unreality, and although we admire the artistic vision here we are aware of Nature in all its power. The part beginning "a morning mist hung over it now" is both repulsive and beautiful - very tactile imagery "arterial splotches", "saffron", "macaroni", richest browns". Here it is, under a spoiler to save space:
(view spoiler)
The silvery mist lit by the sun, and the sharp leaves of the flag (a marsh plant which has long sword-like leaves) glistening like scythes is so reminiscent of the description of the dazzling and mesmeric mist of Troy's sword flashing and bristling with light, in the earlier chapter.
I am also aware of Bathsheba's fear that Liddy would sink into the mire, but Liddy is sure-footed, and practical, and far too sensible to sink into any kind of morass, figurative or literal.
A beautifully written chapter, full of mysterious imaginings, veilings and irony.
(Crossposted)
I love the writing in this chapter, and found it far more evocative than ch 33. We really see how Bathsheba is a part of Nature here.
What does she do when hurt and pushed beyond emotional endurance? She flees like a wounded animal and hides in the "withering ferns" of the undergrowth. And what undergrowth this is - swamps that ooze putrescence - this perfectly echoes the desperation she feels. This part of Nature is foul and rotting. She gradually becomes aware of reality by watching the ploughboy, and is able to smile a little. When Liddy takes her indoors, she still wants to be alone, to hide far away from everyone at the top of the house, and heal.
Just like the "Hollow Amid the Ferns" chapter 28, this one is packed with symbolism. Remember there that Troy was described mainly in terms of a flashing blade, and a splash of red? Here we see withered red and yellow leaves tumbling on to Bathsheba. She shakes them from her dress and they flutter away ... clear symbolism here that she is attempting to brush away her sadness and feelings - her infatuation with Troy. Thomas Hardy pointedly says they are "like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing". This is an allusion to Ode to the West Wind by Percy Bysshe Shelley:
"Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead
Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter feeling".
This entire episode has an air of unreality, and although we admire the artistic vision here we are aware of Nature in all its power. The part beginning "a morning mist hung over it now" is both repulsive and beautiful - very tactile imagery "arterial splotches", "saffron", "macaroni", richest browns". Here it is, under a spoiler to save space:
(view spoiler)
The silvery mist lit by the sun, and the sharp leaves of the flag (a marsh plant which has long sword-like leaves) glistening like scythes is so reminiscent of the description of the dazzling and mesmeric mist of Troy's sword flashing and bristling with light, in the earlier chapter.
I am also aware of Bathsheba's fear that Liddy would sink into the mire, but Liddy is sure-footed, and practical, and far too sensible to sink into any kind of morass, figurative or literal.
A beautifully written chapter, full of mysterious imaginings, veilings and irony.
(Crossposted)
Lee wrote: "I have accumulated some personal thoughts about Bathsheba showing her as primarily reactive to situations. I don't believe she has shown herself to be the strong, independent woman Hardy introduced..."
That's a wonderful list, Lee, thank you for writing it up. I'm inclined to agree with your view "I don't believe she has shown herself to be the strong, independent woman Hardy introduced us to in the first chapters" I do wonder, if this lack of strength and independence is limited to her love life. And if that can be attributed to her lack of a mother, or if Thomas Hardy wrote her that way to conform to his ideas of "women" in general.
Here are some instances where she is still independent.
1. Working with Gabriel to secure the crops in the storm
2. Firing the bailiff, Pennyways
3. Standing up to the male farmers in the market and establishing herself as an owner
4. Riding alone to Bath in essentially the middle of the night
5. And even choosing Troy over the much safer choice of Boldwood. I think we could look at her choicer of Troy as her embrace of her sexual awakening. And in that respect, especially for her era, that was a strong, bold, independent choice.
Once she's married to Troy, again given the time and place she is living in, does she really have any choice but to do what he says? Maybe yes, when it comes to Fanny on the road, but I'm not sure she has a lot of choice with her money. Although Troy doesn't have unfettered access to her money, because he has to beg her for the 20 pounds he wants to give to Fanny.
Anyway, all this is not to disagree with you, Lee. Because I actually do agree with what you wrote. I guess I'm saying Bathsheba is hard to pin down as "strong and independent" or "weak and subservient". She's sort of both IMO.
That's a wonderful list, Lee, thank you for writing it up. I'm inclined to agree with your view "I don't believe she has shown herself to be the strong, independent woman Hardy introduced us to in the first chapters" I do wonder, if this lack of strength and independence is limited to her love life. And if that can be attributed to her lack of a mother, or if Thomas Hardy wrote her that way to conform to his ideas of "women" in general.
Here are some instances where she is still independent.
1. Working with Gabriel to secure the crops in the storm
2. Firing the bailiff, Pennyways
3. Standing up to the male farmers in the market and establishing herself as an owner
4. Riding alone to Bath in essentially the middle of the night
5. And even choosing Troy over the much safer choice of Boldwood. I think we could look at her choicer of Troy as her embrace of her sexual awakening. And in that respect, especially for her era, that was a strong, bold, independent choice.
Once she's married to Troy, again given the time and place she is living in, does she really have any choice but to do what he says? Maybe yes, when it comes to Fanny on the road, but I'm not sure she has a lot of choice with her money. Although Troy doesn't have unfettered access to her money, because he has to beg her for the 20 pounds he wants to give to Fanny.
Anyway, all this is not to disagree with you, Lee. Because I actually do agree with what you wrote. I guess I'm saying Bathsheba is hard to pin down as "strong and independent" or "weak and subservient". She's sort of both IMO.
Bionic Jean wrote: "So ... back to today's chapter 44, and thank you Bridget for such a full commentary.
I love the writing in this chapter, and found it far more evocative than ch 33. We really see how Bathsheba is ..."
I'm so glad you brought this out Jean! The writing was so poetic in this chapter. As soon as "ferns" were mentioned, my thoughts went straight to Chapter 28 "The Hollow amid the Ferns". And the sword plants are here too. Hardy uses the word "malignant" to describe the swamp, and it echoes everything going on in Bathsheba's life at the moment.
Loved your observation about Liddy: "Liddy is sure-footed, and practical, and far too sensible to sink into any kind of morass, figurative or literal." Which when compared to Bathsheba, reinforces the sentiment Lee has of how Bathsheba's character is shaping up at the moment . . . far from "sure-footed".
Bathsheba's time in the swamp reminded me of Tess taking refuge in the holly-bush and (view spoiler) (I put this under a spoiler just in case someone on this thread hasnt read Tess of the D’Urbervilles'. The connection to nature and Bathsheba's refuge in it, also reminds me of Tess.
I love the writing in this chapter, and found it far more evocative than ch 33. We really see how Bathsheba is ..."
I'm so glad you brought this out Jean! The writing was so poetic in this chapter. As soon as "ferns" were mentioned, my thoughts went straight to Chapter 28 "The Hollow amid the Ferns". And the sword plants are here too. Hardy uses the word "malignant" to describe the swamp, and it echoes everything going on in Bathsheba's life at the moment.
Loved your observation about Liddy: "Liddy is sure-footed, and practical, and far too sensible to sink into any kind of morass, figurative or literal." Which when compared to Bathsheba, reinforces the sentiment Lee has of how Bathsheba's character is shaping up at the moment . . . far from "sure-footed".
Bathsheba's time in the swamp reminded me of Tess taking refuge in the holly-bush and (view spoiler) (I put this under a spoiler just in case someone on this thread hasnt read Tess of the D’Urbervilles'. The connection to nature and Bathsheba's refuge in it, also reminds me of Tess.
Michael Millgate would agree with you Bridget. He says Thomas Hardy's attitude to Bathsheba is
"ambivalent"
.
Edit - this was relating to "I'm saying Bathsheba is hard to pin down as "strong and independent" or "weak and subservient". She's sort of both IMO."
And yes, Tess is the child of Nature par excellence. That's a really good parallel under your spoiler 😊
Edit - this was relating to "I'm saying Bathsheba is hard to pin down as "strong and independent" or "weak and subservient". She's sort of both IMO."
And yes, Tess is the child of Nature par excellence. That's a really good parallel under your spoiler 😊

I guess I have to say that is true for me, too. I’m not always predictable. Now Hardy would say this is because we are simply objects being stirred by chance or aimless “fate”, whatever that is! No Providence - just random coincidence.
Am I understanding Hardy correctly?

I am really enjoying reading everyone’s thoughts. I thought this chapter was beautifully written and loved the language.
For me nature has provided such a strong backdrop that I’m actually beginning to see it almost as a character in its own right.
As has been pointed out the swamp is malignant and “From its moist and poisonous coat seemed to be exhaled the essences of evil things…” and of course this is could be seen as a reflection of Bathsheba’s marriage just as the earlier storm seemed to be. Beautiful writing whether Hardy intended to make a statement with the uglier side of nature or not. I do hope Bathsheba can find herself under sunny skies by the end of the book. At this point she doesn’t have a harmonious relationship at home and she isn’t enjoying the more beautiful aspects of nature either.
Lee wrote: "Thanks for your contrasting vision of Bathsheba, Bridget! Maybe Hardy’s point could be that none of us- men or women - act in a consistent manner all the time.
I guess I have to say that is true f..."
I'm definitely unpredictable too, Lee! Just ask my children LOL. I think you are spot on with understanding Hardy correctly. That's how I've learned to think of him too. I'm so glad you are sticking with the read. I love all your comments Lee!!
I guess I have to say that is true f..."
I'm definitely unpredictable too, Lee! Just ask my children LOL. I think you are spot on with understanding Hardy correctly. That's how I've learned to think of him too. I'm so glad you are sticking with the read. I love all your comments Lee!!
Lori wrote: "Bridget: As always thank you for an excellent summary. And, thank you for listing all those books!
I am really enjoying reading everyone’s thoughts. I thought this chapter was beautifully written..."
Lori, This is a wonderful insight:
For me nature has provided such a strong backdrop that I’m actually beginning to see it almost as a character in its own right..
I can see how nature would be another character in this novel. I don't think that's a stretch at all.
I am really enjoying reading everyone’s thoughts. I thought this chapter was beautifully written..."
Lori, This is a wonderful insight:
For me nature has provided such a strong backdrop that I’m actually beginning to see it almost as a character in its own right..
I can see how nature would be another character in this novel. I don't think that's a stretch at all.
Chapter 45 – Troy’s Romanticism

Frank Troy's attempting to beautify Fanny's grave by lamplight, by Helen Paterson, The Victorian Web
After Bathsheba ran out, Troy threw himself on the bed and waited, miserable, for the morning. Earlier that day he had put together 27 pounds and had driven to Casterbridge for his appointment with Fanny. He sat down to wait, not knowing that she was being put into her grave clothes at that very moment.
After hours of waiting, he bitterly went to Budmouth. But he was plagued by images on Fanny on the turnpike, and Bathsheba reproaching him. He stayed there until nine o'clock, keeping his vow not to place bets.
On his way home, it finally occurred to him that Fanny may not have come to meet him because of illness, and he feels regret for leaving Casterbridge without inquiring. We know what happens when he reaches home.
In the morning, Troy rises and rides to Casterbridge, to the mason. He has no sense of economy or calculation; he merely wishes for something and wants it fulfilled like a child. He tells the mason that he wants the best gravestone 27 pounds can buy as soon as possible. The stonecutter shows him what he has in stock, and Troy writes out what he wants on the stone.
After dark Troy leaves with a heavy basket and rides to Weatherbury churchyard. He brings a spade and lantern to the yard and begins to plant daisies, hyacinths, violets, and carnations around the tomb. He has no sense of absurdity about this romantic act. As he finishes, he feels a drop of rain. The rain extinguishes his lantern. He decides to leave the finishing touches for the next day, he gropes along the church wall in the dark, finds a porch and falls asleep on a bench.

Frank Troy's attempting to beautify Fanny's grave by lamplight, by Helen Paterson, The Victorian Web
After Bathsheba ran out, Troy threw himself on the bed and waited, miserable, for the morning. Earlier that day he had put together 27 pounds and had driven to Casterbridge for his appointment with Fanny. He sat down to wait, not knowing that she was being put into her grave clothes at that very moment.
After hours of waiting, he bitterly went to Budmouth. But he was plagued by images on Fanny on the turnpike, and Bathsheba reproaching him. He stayed there until nine o'clock, keeping his vow not to place bets.
On his way home, it finally occurred to him that Fanny may not have come to meet him because of illness, and he feels regret for leaving Casterbridge without inquiring. We know what happens when he reaches home.
In the morning, Troy rises and rides to Casterbridge, to the mason. He has no sense of economy or calculation; he merely wishes for something and wants it fulfilled like a child. He tells the mason that he wants the best gravestone 27 pounds can buy as soon as possible. The stonecutter shows him what he has in stock, and Troy writes out what he wants on the stone.
After dark Troy leaves with a heavy basket and rides to Weatherbury churchyard. He brings a spade and lantern to the yard and begins to plant daisies, hyacinths, violets, and carnations around the tomb. He has no sense of absurdity about this romantic act. As he finishes, he feels a drop of rain. The rain extinguishes his lantern. He decides to leave the finishing touches for the next day, he gropes along the church wall in the dark, finds a porch and falls asleep on a bench.
The chapter begins by a shift in narration to Troy's point of view, first moving backwards in time in order to fill in his reaction to Fanny’s death.
The whole chapter underlines the earnestness of Toy's feelings for Fanny that coexist with his petulant childishness: anger at her for not appearing at the bridge, the buying of a headstone without regard to its price, the futility of planting of flowers without an understanding of gardening. Like a child Troy has not learned to check his desires and work within a situation (quite unlike Gabriel).
Troy’s romanticism again emphasizes the depth of his love for Fanny; nonetheless, he is quick to abandon his romantic act at the least sign of trouble, as here with the approaching rain. And I can't help finding the title of this chapter "Troy's Romanticism" somewhat ironic.
The whole chapter underlines the earnestness of Toy's feelings for Fanny that coexist with his petulant childishness: anger at her for not appearing at the bridge, the buying of a headstone without regard to its price, the futility of planting of flowers without an understanding of gardening. Like a child Troy has not learned to check his desires and work within a situation (quite unlike Gabriel).
Troy’s romanticism again emphasizes the depth of his love for Fanny; nonetheless, he is quick to abandon his romantic act at the least sign of trouble, as here with the approaching rain. And I can't help finding the title of this chapter "Troy's Romanticism" somewhat ironic.
Bridget wrote: "I can't help finding the title of this chapter "Troy's Romanticism" somewhat ironic. ..."
I'm sure it is Bridget, just as "Fanny's Revenge" was ironic. They form a pair.
Lori - I love the way you put this, that Nature is almost a character in its own right. Nature as a primal force certainly underpins most of Thomas Hardy's novels, and is true of all these early ones.
I'm sure it is Bridget, just as "Fanny's Revenge" was ironic. They form a pair.
Lori - I love the way you put this, that Nature is almost a character in its own right. Nature as a primal force certainly underpins most of Thomas Hardy's novels, and is true of all these early ones.
Going back to the previous chapter (44) first if I may ...
Fanny and her child - edits
I've been reading more about the parts about Fanny and the baby which Thomas Hardy was strongly advised to cut out. There are earlier comments that Fanny had been gone for 8 months, questions on whether she was consumptive, or was it another reason, loose-tongued talk by Joseph Poorgrass, a whisper to Bathsheba from Liddy that there were two bodies in the coffin, in answer to Bathsheba asking why she died.
The impression given was that the facts, if not exactly common knowledge, were at least more widely known than we are told now. None of these, and other hints, were implemented in later editions.
There's also a whole page and a half of description of the mother and child, comparing them to works of Art, and which included quite a lot about Thomas Hardy's world view and his core spiritual beliefs on "being and becoming".
This is according to the academic Simon Gatrell (another Hardy expert). This essay about all his edits through the novel is in the Norton edition. Reading the original text he thinks, gives the impression of Troy bending down to kiss Fanny a very different, other-worldly feel. Simon Gatrell feels that Leslie Stephen went too far with his edits in this case, and says he "might as well have blue-pencilled the entire novel"!
(There are trivial changes too, throughout, such as changing "sheep's buttocks" to sheep's backs. It seems a bit mimsy to me.)
Fanny and her child - edits
I've been reading more about the parts about Fanny and the baby which Thomas Hardy was strongly advised to cut out. There are earlier comments that Fanny had been gone for 8 months, questions on whether she was consumptive, or was it another reason, loose-tongued talk by Joseph Poorgrass, a whisper to Bathsheba from Liddy that there were two bodies in the coffin, in answer to Bathsheba asking why she died.
The impression given was that the facts, if not exactly common knowledge, were at least more widely known than we are told now. None of these, and other hints, were implemented in later editions.
There's also a whole page and a half of description of the mother and child, comparing them to works of Art, and which included quite a lot about Thomas Hardy's world view and his core spiritual beliefs on "being and becoming".
This is according to the academic Simon Gatrell (another Hardy expert). This essay about all his edits through the novel is in the Norton edition. Reading the original text he thinks, gives the impression of Troy bending down to kiss Fanny a very different, other-worldly feel. Simon Gatrell feels that Leslie Stephen went too far with his edits in this case, and says he "might as well have blue-pencilled the entire novel"!
(There are trivial changes too, throughout, such as changing "sheep's buttocks" to sheep's backs. It seems a bit mimsy to me.)
Ch 45 - Then after seeing Troy focussed for once, instead of just an impression, or how others see him, we now have a chapter (as Bridget says) all about Troy and from his point of view. It all emphasises how he lives in the moment, like an animal. He does feel things such as regret, but as Thomas Hardy says in the part where he orders the magnificent tombstone, Troy approaches it like a child; it's all on impulse.
Of course we noticed the clock chiming the quarter hours - and Thomas Hardy wanted to make absolutely sure we did see the significance by making even Troy see the irony! But we feel it will have more portents, just as the mention of clocks in the previous chapter did for Bathsheba.
Such a weird twist of fate in real life, that Thomas Hardy himself only realised how much he loved Emma after he died, and treated her cruelly, as Brian reminded us. Yet when he wrote this part he was about to get married, (on 17th September 1874) and this is the October issue, a mere couple of weeks later.
Of course we noticed the clock chiming the quarter hours - and Thomas Hardy wanted to make absolutely sure we did see the significance by making even Troy see the irony! But we feel it will have more portents, just as the mention of clocks in the previous chapter did for Bathsheba.
Such a weird twist of fate in real life, that Thomas Hardy himself only realised how much he loved Emma after he died, and treated her cruelly, as Brian reminded us. Yet when he wrote this part he was about to get married, (on 17th September 1874) and this is the October issue, a mere couple of weeks later.
One more little thing from ch 44 ... (sorry - it's the sort of poetic chapter that won't leave me alone!) we've talked before about the "looker-on" or "watcher" as a feature of Far From the Madding Crowd.
Several times it has been Gabriel, especially at the beginning of the book, and then it was Boldwood. Cainy Ball even watched Bathsheba and Troy in Bath. Usually though it has been when there is a sense of loss, or even abandonment. And here we have Bathsheba herself in the position of "watcher", as she spies on Gabriel without his knowledge.
Several times it has been Gabriel, especially at the beginning of the book, and then it was Boldwood. Cainy Ball even watched Bathsheba and Troy in Bath. Usually though it has been when there is a sense of loss, or even abandonment. And here we have Bathsheba herself in the position of "watcher", as she spies on Gabriel without his knowledge.
Books mentioned in this topic
Tess of the D’Urbervilles (other topics)Far From the Madding Crowd (other topics)
Tess of the D’Urbervilles (other topics)
Jude the Obscure (other topics)
Far From the Madding Crowd (other topics)
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Thomas Hardy (other topics)Thomas Hardy (other topics)
Thomas Hardy (other topics)
Thomas Hardy (other topics)
Thomas Hardy (other topics)
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At Casterbridge Unionhouse there is a gable with a small door, a few feet above the ground. Poorgrass rings the bell and backs his wagon against the high door, a coffin is thrust through. One man writes the name and date atop it in chalk and covers it with a black cloth. Poorgrass places flowers around it, as Bathsheba has requested, and starts home as heavy mist covers the fields and the autumn fogs arrive.
Poorgrass drives through the thick fog, hearing a mournful tapping of dew from the leaves, feeling morose himself in light of the cargo he carries. He stops at an old inn, the Buck’s Head. He goes in and sees Coggan and Clark already drinking. He tells them that his companion was beginning to chill him. He drinks with them, then says he must leave for the church yard. But Coggan and Clark convince him to stay and drink some more.
Coggan says it’s a shame there’s no one to pay the shelling and half-crown for the bell and grave. Poorgrass says the parish pays for the grave alone, though Bathsheba will probably pay for everything. Clark again entreats Poorgrass to stay: the poor woman is dead, after all, he says. What’s the harm? Poorgrass is a bit worried about Providence - he’s been drunk already this month and didn’t go to church on Sunday. Coggan calls Poorgrass a dissenter, though he denies it, and says he’s never changed a single doctrine—he’ll stick to his side and will fall with it if it turns out to be wrong. The longer Poorgrass stays, the less he feels troubled by the duties that await him. Finally, Coggan’s watch strikes six.
At that moment Gabriel appears in the doorway. He’s ashamed of them, drinking when there's a body to be buried. Clark asks him not to go on so. Coggan adds that no one can hurt a dead woman—if she’d been alive, he would have helped her quickly. Clark agrees and begins to sing a tune, but Gabriel snaps at him to stop, and accuses them of being drunk. Meekly, Poorgrass says he has a multiplying eye infliction—he sees two of everything, as if he was Noah at the entrance to the ark. Gabriel realizes that no one here can take charge of the wagon, so he closes the door and gets in himself.
The village has heard of Fanny Robbin’s death, but thanks to Gabriel’s and Boldwood’s discretion, no one knows her young man was Troy. Gabriel hopes it will stay silent for a short time, at least. He arrives at the church yard too late for the funeral to take place that night. The parson, Mr. Thirdly, says the body will have to stay at the farm or be carried on to the church.
Ill at ease, Gabriel goes to ask Bathsheba what she’d prefer. She’s in a strange, perplexed mood: at first she says it’s fine for the body to be brought to the church, but then suddenly wants to care for Fanny, so she decides the body should be brought inside the house and treated thoughtfully. The coffin is brought in the house and when everyone is gone, Gabriel lifts the cloth and sees the chalk writing: it says “Fanny Robbin and child.” To protect Bathsheba, he wipes out the two final words, then leaves.