The Wessex Tales
by Thomas Hardy
Preface
An apology is perhaps needed for the neglect of contrast which
is shown by presenting two consecutive stories of hangmen in such
a small collection as the following. But in the neighbourhood of
county-towns tales of executions used to form a large proportion
of the local traditions; and though never personally acquainted
with any chief operator at such scenes, the writer of these pages
had as a boy the privilege of being on speaking terms with a man
who applied for the office, and who sank into an incurable
melancholy because he failed to get it, some slight mitigation of
his grief being to dwell upon striking episodes in the lives of
those happier ones who had held it with success and renown. His
tale of disappointment used to cause some wonder why his ambition
should have taken such an unfortunate form, but its nobleness was
never questioned. In those days, too, there was still living an
old woman who, for the cure of some eating disease, had been
taken in her youth to have her 'blood turned' by a convict's
corpse, in the manner described in 'The Withered Arm.'
Since writing this story some years ago I have been reminded
by an aged friend who knew 'Rhoda Brook' that, in relating her
dream, my forgetfulness has weakened the facts our of which the
tale grew. In reality it was while lying down on a hot afternoon
that the incubus oppressed her and she flung it off, with the
results upon the body of the original as described. To my mind
the occurrence of such a vision in the daytime is more impressive
than if it had happened in a midnight dream. Readers are
therefore asked to correct the misrelation, which affords an
instance of how our imperfect memories insensibly formalize the
fresh originality of living fact--from whose shape they slowly
depart, as machine-made castings depart by degrees from the sharp
hand-work of the mould.
Among the many devices for concealing smuggled goods in caves
and pits of the earth, that of planting an apple-tree in a tray
or box which was placed over the mouth of the pit is, I believe,
unique, and it is detailed in one of the tales precisely as
described by an old carrier of 'tubs'--a man who was afterwards
in my father's employ for over thirty years. I never gathered
from his reminiscences what means were adopted for lifting the
tree, which, with its roots, earth, and receptacle, must have
been of considerable weight. There is no doubt, however, that the
thing was done through many years. My informant often spoke, too,
of the horribly suffocating sensation produced by the pair of
spirit-tubs slung upon the chest and back, after stumbling with
the burden of them for several miles inland over a rough country
and in darkness. He said that though years of his youth and young
manhood were spent in this irregular business, his profits from
the same, taken all together, did not average the wages he might
have earned in a steady employment, whilst the fatigues and risks
were excessive.
I may add that the first story in the series turns upon a
physical possibility that may attach to women of imaginative
temperament, and that is well supported by the experiences of
medical men and other observers of such manifestations.
T. H. April 1896.
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