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In answer to the knock Fall came to the door, candle in hand.
Robert Barnes
20 March 1886 (Part Twelve)
Composite Woodblock Engraving
22.6 cm high by 17.3 cm wide — 8 ⅝ by 6 ⅝ inches
Thomas Hardys's The Mayor of Casterbridge, Chapter XXVI, p. 317.
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See below for passage illustrated and commentary.
Scanned image and text by Philip V. Allingham.
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The hedge of his garden formed an arch over the entrance, and a door was inserted as in a wall. Outside the door the tall traveller stopped, bandaged his face with a handkerchief as if he were suffering from toothache, and went up the path. The window shutters were not closed, and he could see the prophet within, preparing his supper.
In answer to the knock Fall came to the door, candle in hand. The visitor stepped back a little from the light, and said, “Can I speak to ’ee?” in significant tones. The other’s invitation to come in was responded to by the country formula, “This will do, thank ’ee,” after which the householder had no alternative but to come out. He placed the candle on the corner of the dresser, took his hat from a nail, and joined the stranger in the porch, shutting the door behind him.
“I’ve long heard that you can — do things of a sort?” began the other, repressing his individuality as much as he could.
“Maybe so, Mr. Henchard,” said the weather-caster.
“Ah — why do you call me that?” asked the visitor with a start.
“Because it’s your name. Feeling you’d come I’ve waited for ’ee; and thinking you might be leery from your walk I laid two supper plates — look ye here.” He threw open the door and disclosed the supper-table, at which appeared a second chair, knife and fork, plate and mug, as he had declared.
Henchard felt like Saul at his reception by Samuel; he remained in silence for a few moments, then throwing off the disguise of frigidity which he had hitherto preserved he said, “Then I have not come in vain. . . . Now, for instance, can ye charm away warts?”
“Without trouble.”
“Cure the evil?”
“That I’ve done — with consideration — if they will wear the toad-bag by night as well as by day.”
“Forecast the weather?”
“With labour and time.”
“Then take this,” said Henchard. “’Tis a crownpiece. Now, what is the harvest fortnight to be? When can I know?’
“I’ve worked it out already, and you can know at once.” (The fact was that five farmers had already been there on the same errand from different parts of the country.) “By the sun, moon, and stars, by the clouds, the winds, the trees, and grass, the candle-flame and swallows, the smell of the herbs; likewise by the cats’ eyes, the ravens, the leeches, the spiders, and the dungmixen, the last fortnight in August will be — rain and tempest.” [Chapter XXVI: serial, p. 318; volume, pp. 223-224]
Once again Barnes presents the commanding figure of Michael Henchard, former wayfarer and out-of-work hay-trusser, now wealthy corn factor and the Mayor of Casterbridge. Although he attempts to muffle his face, he is betrayed by his costly clothing — and there is no disguising that distinctive visage with which Barnes has characterized him ever since the introductory illustration. The nocturnal scene exploits the incongruous juxtaposition of the wild-haired weather-caster in his linen nightgown and the expensively, even ostentatiously garbed visitor in respectable black: expensive top hat, top coat, and boots. The headpiece is a deliberate teaser as it prompts the reader to wonder why Michael Henchard (in his fourth appearance in the narrative-pictorial sequence) is paying a surreptitious call on this mud-built cottage.
The dialogue immediately clarifies the nature of Henchard's call on Conjuror Fall, popularly known as "Wide-oh." In order to be sure of undercutting his rival factor at the harvest, Henchard wants to know about the weather that will accompany the reaping of the grain; despite the summer-like weather favourable to an abundant wheat-crop, the Conjuror predicts "rain and tempest" in just two weeks. Ironically, Henchard's crediting the prognostication proves his financial undoing. The good weather drives prices down as Henchard buys extensively, and he borrows from the bank. Although bad weather in Chapter XXVII occurs just as the harvesting begins, Henchard has made the tactical error of selling off his stock at the much-reduced rate.
Allingham, Philip V. "A Consideration of Robert Barnes' Illustrations for Thomas Hardy's The Mayor of Casterbridge as Serialised in the London Graphic: 2 January-15 May, 1886." Victorian Periodicals Review 28, 1 (Spring 1995): pp. 27-39
Hardy, Thomas. The Mayor of Casterbridge. The Graphic 33 (1886).
Hardy, Thomas. The Mayor of Casterbridge: A Story of a Man of Character. London: Osgood McIlvaine, 1895.
Jackson, Arlene. "The Mayor of Casterbridge: Realism and Metaphor."Illustration and the Novels of Thomas Hardy. Totowa, NJ: Rowman and Littlefield, 1981. Pp. 96-104.
Created 28 July 2001
Last modified 23 March 2024