The Mayor of Casterbridge, by 
Thomas Hardy 
 
The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Mayor of Casterbridge, by 
Thomas Hardy This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost 
and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it 
away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License 
included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org 
Title: The Mayor of Casterbridge 
Author: Thomas Hardy 
Release Date: May 28, 2007 [EBook #143] [This file was first posted 
on March 11, 2006] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: ASCII 
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE 
MAYOR OF CASTERBRIDGE *** 
 
Produced by John Hamm and David Widger 
 
THE MAYOR OF CASTERBRIDGE 
by Thomas Hardy
1. 
One evening of late summer, before the nineteenth century had reached 
one-third of its span, a young man and woman, the latter carrying a 
child, were approaching the large village of Weydon-Priors, in Upper 
Wessex, on foot. They were plainly but not ill clad, though the thick 
hoar of dust which had accumulated on their shoes and garments from 
an obviously long journey lent a disadvantageous shabbiness to their 
appearance just now. 
The man was of fine figure, swarthy, and stern in aspect; and he 
showed in profile a facial angle so slightly inclined as to be almost 
perpendicular. He wore a short jacket of brown corduroy, newer than 
the remainder of his suit, which was a fustian waistcoat with white horn 
buttons, breeches of the same, tanned leggings, and a straw hat overlaid 
with black glazed canvas. At his back he carried by a looped strap a 
rush basket, from which protruded at one end the crutch of a hay-knife, 
a wimble for hay-bonds being also visible in the aperture. His measured, 
springless walk was the walk of the skilled countryman as distinct from 
the desultory shamble of the general labourer; while in the turn and 
plant of each foot there was, further, a dogged and cynical indifference 
personal to himself, showing its presence even in the regularly 
interchanging fustian folds, now in the left leg, now in the right, as he 
paced along. 
What was really peculiar, however, in this couple's progress, and would 
have attracted the attention of any casual observer otherwise disposed 
to overlook them, was the perfect silence they preserved. They walked 
side by side in such a way as to suggest afar off the low, easy, 
confidential chat of people full of reciprocity; but on closer view it 
could be discerned that the man was reading, or pretending to read, a 
ballad sheet which he kept before his eyes with some difficulty by the 
hand that was passed through the basket strap. Whether this apparent 
cause were the real cause, or whether it were an assumed one to escape 
an intercourse that would have been irksome to him, nobody but 
himself could have said precisely; but his taciturnity was unbroken, and
the woman enjoyed no society whatever from his presence. Virtually 
she walked the highway alone, save for the child she bore. Sometimes 
the man's bent elbow almost touched her shoulder, for she kept as close 
to his side as was possible without actual contact, but she seemed to 
have no idea of taking his arm, nor he of offering it; and far from 
exhibiting surprise at his ignoring silence she appeared to receive it as a 
natural thing. If any word at all were uttered by the little group, it was 
an occasional whisper of the woman to the child--a tiny girl in short 
clothes and blue boots of knitted yarn--and the murmured babble of the 
child in reply. 
The chief--almost the only--attraction of the young woman's face was 
its mobility. When she looked down sideways to the girl she became 
pretty, and even handsome, particularly that in the action her features 
caught slantwise the rays of the strongly coloured sun, which made 
transparencies of her eyelids and nostrils and set fire on her lips. When 
she plodded on in the shade of the hedge, silently thinking, she had the 
hard, half-apathetic expression of one who deems anything possible at 
the hands of Time and Chance except, perhaps, fair play. The first 
phase was the work of Nature, the second probably of civilization. 
That the man and woman were husband and wife, and the parents of the 
girl in arms there could be little doubt. No other than such relationship 
would have accounted for the atmosphere of stale familiarity which the 
trio carried along with them like a nimbus as they moved down the 
road. 
The wife mostly kept her eyes fixed ahead, though with little 
interest--the scene for that matter being one that might have been 
matched at almost any spot in any county in England at this time of the    
    
		
	
	
	Continue reading on your phone by scaning this QR Code
 
	 	
	
	
	    Tip: The current page has been bookmarked automatically. If you wish to continue reading later, just open the 
Dertz Homepage, and click on the 'continue reading' link at the bottom of the page.
	    
	    
