at the Dorset County Museum in Dorchester.

After the serial publication concluded, The Mayor of Casterbridge was released in book form. Many novels from this period show slight variations between their serial and book versions, as authors often tailored their stories to maintain readers' interest from one issue to the next. However, this novel differs significantly between the two formats. For instance, in the serial version, Henchard marries Lucetta. Hardy’s biography, purportedly written by his second wife but actually authored mostly by Hardy himself, suggests that he believed the novel suffered due to the constraints of serial publication and that his revisions for the book were insufficient to fully restore the story. The version of the novel available to current readers is the final revision Hardy made for the 1912 Wessex Edition of his works.

Victorian novels frequently tackled social issues. While social themes are present in The Mayor of Casterbridge, the novel stands out because it consistently centers on a single character, Michael Henchard. This tight focus results in a shorter novel with fewer characters compared to many other novels of the period.

Wessex Setting
As with all of Hardy’s fiction, The Mayor of Casterbridge is set in southwestern England, in the historical region of Wessex. This area was invaded, settled, and named by the Saxons, who ruled it as a kingdom in ancient times. Wessex stretched from the English Channel north to the Thames River and from Windsor Forest in the east to the Cornish coast in the west.

While most novelists set their stories in real locations, Hardy is unique for two reasons. Firstly, despite his extensive travels, he always set his novels and stories within the confines of his native region. In his 1912 general preface to the final, revised edition of his novels, Hardy explained, “there was quite enough human nature in Wessex for one man’s literary purposes.” He also clarified, somewhat redundantly, that his characters “were meant to be typically and essentially those of any and every place . . . beings in whose hearts and minds that which is apparently local should be really universal.”

Secondly, unlike other authors, Hardy seldom created fictional elements to enhance the real landscape of Wessex. He depicted the towns, farms, roads, and inns with meticulous accuracy. When Hardy described a house, contemporary readers likely recognized the exact house he referenced.

In some instances, Hardy used real place names, while in others, he assigned fictional names to actual locations. For example, Stonehenge and Southampton are mentioned by their real names, but Casterbridge is actually Hardy's hometown of Dorchester. In his 1912 preface, Hardy explains that his general rule was to use the real names of major towns and landmarks defining Wessex's boundaries, while employing fictional or ancient names for most other places.

Hardy's characters are also more rooted in reality than those of many other authors. They are often composites of people he knew or had heard of, combined with his own creative touches. He drew inspiration from the folklore and ballads of Wessex for both characters and storylines. His long life in Wessex and access to church records through his early work as an architect and church restorer provided him with deep insights into local life and its frequent tragedies.

Gothic Elements
Gothic fiction, popular between 1760 and 1820, featured ominous settings (like a menacing hilltop castle during a storm), brooding and malevolent characters, dark secrets, and supernatural or occult elements to evoke horror. This genre has influenced much of the fiction over the past 250 years, including the novels of the Victorian era. Authors such as Charles Dickens, Sir Walter Scott, and Charlotte Brontë used Gothic elements to vividly depict the darker side of human nature.

Gothic elements are prevalent in The Mayor of Casterbridge. A notable example is the encounter between Henchard and Susan at the old Roman amphitheater known as the Ring. Located outside the town, Henchard and Susan meet there at dusk. Before narrating their meeting, Hardy provides an eerie, detailed description of the Ring, imbuing it with a history of gloom and violence. Readers are reminded of the bloody Roman spectacles held there. The Ring was also the site of Casterbridge’s gallows, and Hardy graphically describes a murderess being “half-strangled and then burnt there in the presence of ten thousand spectators.” Even in contemporary times, Hardy assures readers, the Ring remains a venue for violent crimes, with some elderly locals claiming to have seen visions of the amphitheater filled with cheering Roman soldiers and heard their bloodthirsty roars. By the time Henchard and Susan arrive at the Ring, Hardy has created a sense of darkness around their meeting, despite its outwardly cordial nature.

Coincidence
Coincidence was a prevalent plot device in Hardy’s era, and he often utilizes it in The Mayor of Casterbridge. For instance, the furmity woman coincidentally arrives in Casterbridge at the perfect moment and under the right circumstances to significantly harm Henchard. Similarly, the weather changes precisely when Henchard is most vulnerable due to his risky scheme to sabotage Farfrae.

There are two perspectives on Hardy’s use of coincidences. Some readers and critics argue that these coincidences render the story unrealistic and thus less effective. On the other hand, others contend that coincidences are not inherently unrealistic, as real life is full of them. This latter group would argue that the key question is whether the coincidences themselves are believable. In the case of The Mayor of Casterbridge, the answer appears to be a tentative “yes.” The furmity woman is portrayed as a traveling merchant, making it plausible for her to end up in Casterbridge. Additionally, anyone who has ever engaged in farming can attest to the unpredictable and uncontrollable nature of the weather, which often seems to defy farmers' expectations.

Hardy uses coincidence to delve into the concept of fate. He leaves open the question of whether coincidences are merely random, suggesting that fate is arbitrary, or if what seems like coincidences are actually orchestrated by a supernatural force guiding people to the destinies they “deserve.”

Although Hardy was trained as an architect, his strength as a novelist does not lie in technical innovation. Unlike John Dos Passos, an American of a later generation who was also trained in art and architecture and dedicated much of his creativity to redesigning the novel's very form, Hardy remains a conservative Victorian novelist. In many respects, he is even more of a traditionalist than his predecessors, Dickens and Thackeray. Like their works, Hardy's novels were written for serialization, meaning chapters or groups of chapters were published in magazines or newspapers. To ensure readers' interest carried over to the next issue, many Victorian novelists, following their eighteenth-century predecessors, created suspense or climax at the end of each episode, similar to how modern television programs build tension just before a commercial break. This approach often results in anticlimactic moments in Hardy's novels, which he did not entirely revise in their published form.

While preparing to write The Mayor of Casterbridge, Hardy, according to biographer Martin Seymour-Smith (Hardy, 1994), delved into the archives of the Dorsetshire County Chronicle to achieve a sense of realism for what he clearly intended as a historical novel about a vanishing rural culture, one that was nearly extinct by the time he began writing. He sets the opening scene about half a century before the time of composition, "before the nineteenth century had reached one-third of its span," or before 1833, with most of the novel's action occurring some twenty years later, or before 1853. Hardy clearly aims to maintain a historical perspective. His frequent references to folk culture and remnants of Roman civilization, such as the "ring of Casterbridge" or the bridge from which Henchard contemplates suicide later in the novel, reflect a desire to broaden the historical scope. This is to suggest what endures over time, such as the barbaric nature of the Roman Circus which resembles more modern acts of cruelty, or the Skimington or "skimity-ride," where the less powerful community members band together to embarrass leaders who do not uphold community norms. Throughout the novel, Hardy uses pervasive references to the remnants of ancient Roman occupation and folk customs rooted in antiquity. The Wessex setting of Hardy's novels is particularly suitable for this motif, as its proximity to the English Channel made it a major site of Roman occupation and construction. These elements serve to remind readers that events are both historical in themselves and the result of historical causes.

A common Victorian technique that Hardy frequently employs is the use of an intrusive, editorializing narrator. This narrative voice creates a sense of intimacy and control over the reader, often passing judgment on characters and their actions as virtuous, wise, or foolish. Sometimes, this narrative closeness offers brilliant metaphors, such as likening the defeated Henchard to a "fangless lion." However, modern readers, influenced by theories of realism from Hardy's contemporary Henry James and successors like James Joyce and Virginia Woolf, might prefer more freedom in interpreting the characters' behaviors that Hardy so vividly portrays.

Additionally, similar to his other novels and those of his predecessors like Dickens, The Mayor of Casterbridge relies on coincidences in ways that may seem outdated and quaint to many contemporary readers. Several instances have been highlighted in previous sections of this study, most of which occur at the worst possible times or just when a character appears to have found happiness. For instance, Henchard organizes an outdoor celebration for the community, competing with a smaller event planned by Farfrae in a makeshift tent. Despite weeks of fair weather, a downpour on the morning of Henchard's fair leads the public to favor Farfrae's event. Much later, Henchard stands on a bridge associated with despair, contemplating suicide, and is saved by the coincidental sight of his own effigy in the water, which we later learn was discarded by those who created the Skimingtonride. The sheer number of such coincidences in The Mayor of Casterbridge can create a sense of artificiality, undermining the realism sought by many late nineteenth-century novelists. Hardy's reliance on what we might call adverse coincidences (which rarely benefit the characters) can partly be attributed to serialization. In smaller segments, the plot's reliance on repeated coincidences would be less apparent. Nonetheless, the omnipresence of these coincidences also underscores, albeit sometimes crudely, Hardy's central theme: the inevitability of fate and the extent to which our greatness lies in facing our destinies with courage and honesty.

"The Mayor of Casterbridge" by Thomas Hardy intricately weaves together the protagonist's fate with the landscape and architecture of its setting, providing a rich tableau against which the drama unfolds. Casterbridge, a fictional town set in the pastoral Wessex countryside, embodies both historical grandeur and the claustrophobic tension of a tight-knit community. This duality mirrors the tragic trajectory of Michael Henchard, whose personal ambitions and failures are deeply intertwined with the town’s physical and social structures.

Casterbridge: A Town of Dual Perspectives

At the heart of the novel is Casterbridge, a bustling market town that traces its origins back to Roman times. The town's Roman amphitheater, ancient graveyard, and straight roads hint at a storied past while illustrating a stark contrast between its historical roots and the vibrant life it now hosts. From a distance, Casterbridge appears as a well-defined urban enclave, delineated from the surrounding countryside by a wall, tree-lined avenues, and a river. However, up close, the town reveals itself as a chaotic maze where the boundaries between public and private, order and disorder, are blurred. Market stalls overflow onto sidewalks, and the jostling of carts and carriages underscores the town's bustling nature.

The town's dual nature is emblematic of Michael Henchard’s own complex character. On one hand, his fate seems to be determined by a harsh, unyielding destiny; on the other, it is a consequence of his muddled decisions. This tension between fate and free will is central to the novel's power, as Henchard's story is one of both personal agency and inevitable decline.

Key Locations: Historic Charm and Symbolism

Casterbridge is a vivid tapestry of locations that serve as touchstones within the narrative. The High Street, St. Peter’s Church, and the town hall—all typical of Georgian and Tudor architecture—serve various civic and social functions, while inns like the Mariner’s Arms and the King’s Arms Hotel offer settings for community gatherings and private machinations. The town’s market house and the Bull Stake, an open space, host vibrant public life, contrasting sharply with the more secretive environments within the town.

Henchard’s house on Corn Street, strategically located for his role as the town’s corn factor, signifies his rise and fall. When ownership shifts to Donald Farfrae, it symbolizes the power dynamics that have shifted between the two men, reflective of Henchard's personal and professional downfall.

High-Place Hall: A Symbol of Social Ambiguity

High-Place Hall, leased by Lucetta Le Sueur, is another critical setting within Casterbridge. Positioned near the market, the hall is built like a country mansion yet resides in the town center, symbolizing Lucetta's ambiguous social standing. The house offers a vantage point from which Lucetta and Elizabeth-Jane Newson observe the interactions of Henchard and Farfrae, hinting at the interconnectedness and concealed relationships among the characters. Its hidden entrance further emphasizes the clandestine nature of personal and social interactions in the novel.

The Ring: The Amphitheater of Secrecy

Adjacent to Casterbridge lies the ancient Roman amphitheater known as The Ring. Although its vastness rivals the Colosseum, it is shrouded in secrecy, described as "dismal privacy," suggesting the presence of unseen watchers. The Ring is a venue for pivotal, covert encounters, such as Henchard's meetings with Susan and Lucetta, his spying on Farfrae's encounter with Elizabeth-Jane, and observing Newson's return. Such meetings, steeped in secrecy, add layers of intrigue and highlight the hidden undercurrents that drive the narrative forward.

Durnover and the River: Reflections of Social Divide

Durnover, the only suburb of Casterbridge, lies to the east and northeast, along the river that embodies the "mournful phases" of Casterbridge life. Mixen Lane, a slum area abutting the river, introduces themes of poverty and social stratification. The low-class pub, Peter’s Finger, becomes the site where a skimmity ride—a form of public shaming—is planned, underscoring the societal tensions at play. Henchard's stay with Jopp in Durnover reflects his fall from grace, while the "chorus of yokels" living there echo the town's class divisions.

Bridges: Pathways of Destiny and Despair

The two bridges of Casterbridge serve as poignant symbols of the town’s social stratification and the personal tragedies of its inhabitants. The brick bridge at High Street is frequented by those of lower status, reflecting their societal position, while the stone bridge in the meadows offers a secluded retreat for the more privileged in their misfortune. These bridges also play a role in the darker aspects of the town’s life, as those who leap into the waters below meet tragic ends, such as in Blackwater Pool or Ten Hatches Hole, mirroring Henchard’s own existential struggles.

Weydon Priors: The Beginning of the End

Beyond Casterbridge lies Weydon Priors, a village in Upper Wessex, marking another significant locus in the novel. Situated six days' walk from Casterbridge, it is a site of beginning and end, characterized by economic decline and the fading glory of its annual fair. It is also here that the Furmity woman, a link to Henchard’s past, reveals his long-held secret, setting off a chain of events that precipitate his ultimate downfall. This location, albeit removed from the central setting of Casterbridge, plays a critical role in charting the course of Henchard’s fate.

The Mayor of Casterbridge is sure to spark engaging debates about fate and free will. These discussions may naturally lead to examining whether Henchard's destiny is deserved or if, as Shakespeare's King Lear puts it (see "Literary Precedents" above), he is "A man more sinned against than sinning." Considering this, it might be worthwhile to explore how much Fate or destiny acts as a malevolent force in the novel. For those interested, studying some of Hardy's poems like "Hap," "The Subalterns," "The Dynasts," "Channel Firing," or "The Convergence of the Twain" could be beneficial. Does the portrayal of fate in this novel align with that in his poems?

1. To what extent is the community's Skimington-ride, which mocks Lucetta, Farfrae, and Henchard, a justified reaction from a morally offended community? Conversely, to what extent is it an act of collective malice or depravity?

2. Is there any validity to the occasional claim that the novel declines in quality as it increasingly relies on unexplained coincidences toward the end?

3. How much does Henchard's belief that he has completed his penance through twenty-one years of abstinence from alcohol contribute to his downfall?

4. How genuine do you believe Farfrae's acts of charity towards Henchard are?

5. Do the frequent references to ancient Britain and Roman rule eventually disrupt the narrative, or do they continue to enhance it?

6. When Henchard brings a caged bird as a wedding gift for Elizabeth-Jane and Farfrae but forgets it, leading to the bird's death, how effective is this as a symbol for the fragility of human relationships, a recurring theme in Hardy's work?

The Mayor of Casterbridge begins with a striking and foreboding scene that highlights many of the novel's key social themes about clashing cultures. At Wedon Fair, an age-old rural gathering in southwestern England that dates back to feudal times, a stranger and his family join the local community. The fair itself is a remnant of a fading culture, which the novel portrays as nearing extinction. Here, strangers are welcomed, and the tent serving "furmity"—a local brew that can be spiked with rum upon request—becomes a hub for conversation and interaction among farmers and agricultural workers. This opening scene brings several cultural issues to the forefront, particularly the decline of folk traditions into parodies of their original community-building purposes, and the harmful effects of a patriarchal system that demands women's subservience.

This powerful scene leaves a lasting impression on readers. A frustrated hay-trusser—an agricultural job nearly obsolete by the time Hardy wrote the novel but once requiring strength, energy, and skill—interrupts the artificial community of the fair to voice his dissatisfaction with his life. Hardy describes his young protagonist as a "skilled countryman." This theme of discontent is familiar to readers of Hardy's earlier works, Far From the Madding Crowd (1874) and The Return of the Native (1878), although it is usually expressed by a woman feeling constrained by rural customs and attitudes, rather than a man.

Michael Henchard, the central figure of the story, attributes his unhappy circumstances to decisions he has made, particularly his marriage to Susan and their child. Hardy addresses a recurring social concern in his novels: the justifications inherent in a gender-power system. Henchard did choose to marry Susan, and their union resulted in a daughter, but he later decides to blame all his hardships on them. He intentionally steers the public discussion in the furmity tent towards the topic of "the ruin of good men by bad wives" and ultimately decides to auction off his wife and daughter to the highest bidder. This shocking scene leaves a strong impact on readers. In his preface to the definitive "Wessex" edition of his novels (1912), Hardy explained that a local story about a husband auctioning off his wife, along with two other tales, inspired the novel.

Three key points must be emphasized regarding this impactful scene. As critic Irving Howe was one of the first to note, Henchard sells Susan not out of greed but because he is "supremely dissatisfied with the drabness" that his life has become, prompting him to make a "gesture that will proclaim his defiance and disgust." The essence is that Henchard's action is primarily symbolic, prioritizing the expression of his personal misery over the happiness of others. Another crucial point when analyzing the novel's social dimensions is that this gesture is sanctioned by the artificial patriarchal society present at the fair. Conducting an auction necessitates several elements: a seller, a buyer (and any other bidders), and those who either actively encourage the behavior or passively allow it by not intervening. Although it is reasonable to assume that the crowd, like the seller, is intoxicated and may see the event as a mere joke, one person eventually takes on the role of auctioneer, and another makes a derisive bid. Only one ineffective voice protests, and even the wife, who has desperately tried to steer her husband away from his increasing drinking and complaining, ultimately gives implicit, though ironic, consent when she remarks that "her present owner is not at all to her liking."

This dehumanization of the wife into a piece of property is finalized when a serious bidder, a sailor named Newson, steps forward. Thus, the violation of Susan's and Elizabeth-Jane's human dignity is not solely Henchard's doing, although he bears the primary responsibility and, as the novel progresses, suffers far more profoundly than the other characters for his cruel act. However, the sale of two human beings, reducing them to objects, is an act perpetrated by an artificial community. Moreover, although the revelation by the "furmity-woman" of Henchard's past misdeed years later in Casterbridge contributes to his downfall from power and influence, it is not the sole cause. While that community, somewhat more respectable and formally organized than the tent at the fair, condemns his past actions, it is Henchard himself, not the broader community, who is ultimately unable to forgive himself.

Some readers might find the sale of Henchard's wife and daughter somewhat mitigated by his drunken state. Although interpreting the novel as merely a temperance tract is a misreading, it’s crucial to acknowledge how Hardy links Henchard's life to various forms of intemperance and uncontrolled passion. His frustration in the opening scene leads him to drink, which then lowers his inhibitions and those of his immediate audience. Upon sobering up and realizing his actions, Henchard makes an effort—hindered by the shame of inquiring about behavior he regrets—to find his family and undo the past. He also makes a peculiar vow to abstain from drinking for precisely twenty-one years, or until he is nearly forty. The reason for this specific duration remains unexplained, yet it offers insight into his character. After two decades of rigorous abstinence, during which Henchard gains material success and public respect, he hastens his downfall by resuming drinking exactly on the twenty-first anniversary of his vow. This relapse has inevitable repercussions for a man already in decline both economically and morally, as he begins to confront his past. In another historical inspiration mentioned by the author, the visit of a "royal Personage" to the remote town—an event meant to assert a national sense of community—sees the drunken ex-mayor publicly embarrassing himself, thereby disgracing the community he had worked diligently to build.

The issue of community in The Mayor of Casterbridge is further complicated by Hardy's recurring theme of modernization. As early as 1866, with his remarkable dramatic poem "The Ruined Maid," Hardy began to articulate his concerns about the challenges facing a society in the later stages of an industrial revolution. With more efficient production and distribution methods came new issues such as urban crowding, poverty, and permanently lost jobs.

He sets this novel in his cherished Wessex because, as he frequently notes, the industrial revolution arrived late in rural England. During the period between Henchard's selling of his family and his fall from prominence twenty years later, significant cultural shifts occurred in rural England. These transformations are embodied by Hardy in the two central characters of the novel. The emerging conflict between Henchard and his protégé, Donald Farfrae, symbolizes the clash between old and new commercial models. Henchard represents old England with its paternalistic feudal traditions, while Farfrae embodies twentieth-century Europe's focus on efficiency and precision in agriculture and business. Henchard, the town's leading grain merchant, persuades a wandering Scotsman with an innovative formula for recovering spoiled grain to stay and become his right-hand man. However, he eventually realizes that he has created a formidable adversary, a man of the new age. By the novel's end, Farfrae has taken over Henchard's business, his house, his furniture, his former mistress, his position on the town council, and even the woman Henchard sometimes believed was his daughter.

The conflict between these men represents not just a generational divide but also differing approaches to land and the world. Farfrae's success signifies a rejection of older business methods rooted in a paternalistic community. Much like William Faulkner's elegy for the rural American South, The Hamlet (1945), the commercial events in the novel illustrate that an agricultural system based on trust, handshakes, and sloppy bookkeeping must eventually give way to one founded on contracts, letters, ledgers, efficiency, and precise accounting. It is essential to recognize the mix of personal choice, judgment errors, and sheer bad luck in Henchard's economic downfall. For instance, when he attempts to corner the grain market to bankrupt his rival, he bets on the expectation of a poor harvest, which aligns with weather trends. However, sudden and unpredictable weather changes cause the crop to flourish, leading to the ruin of all Henchard's plans, not through miscalculation but through bad luck. This irony compounds the theme of the agricultural community. What brings prosperity to the Casterbridge farmers brings ruin to their leading citizen and grain merchant. Nevertheless, it is crucial to understand that Henchard is a man of the past, while Farfrae represents the future. Henchard, as a paternalistic figure in rural England, was already an anachronism by the time Hardy wrote about the changes occurring in the provinces.

Farfrae's business innovations are welcomed by the Casterbridge community, but scholars often question their benefits for the citizens. Richard Carpenter, for instance, describes Farfrae as a "good man, all right. . . but he is too much like the new agricultural machinery he brings to Casterbridge"; he argues that Farfrae is "too efficient," too "like an adding machine." Perry Meisel concurs, calling Farfrae a "scientific, advanced businessman, the material representative of a new order that destroys the symbol of the old." By examining two distinct moments of the conflict, however, we can appreciate the complex ambiguity with which Hardy presents this issue. Hardy clearly acknowledges that Henchard's paternalistic methods are imprecise and heavily influenced by the merchant's personality, akin to the feudal systems they stem from. In contrast, Farfrae's methods are fair, precise, and efficient. However, they strip transactions of their human and personal touch. One minor character complains, "we work harder, but we bain't made afeerd [aren't made to fear] now. . . . tho tis a shilling a week less I'm the richer man." This character implies that Farfrae's demand for more work at lower pay is balanced by stability and fairness in the workplace.

One of the initial contrasts between the two men and their economic systems involves Henchard's earlier treatment of a lazy employee, Abel Whittle, who had a chronic habit of oversleeping. After repeatedly warning Whittle, Henchard goes to the tardy worker's house, drags him out of bed under threat of physical force, and marches him half-dressed down the street to his job. Farfrae publicly criticizes Henchard's disregard for Whittle's feelings as "tyrannical," and Whittle threatens, more theatrically than seriously, to "do myself harm" due to the humiliation. Henchard, having provided several non-contractual services for the Whittles, such as supplying the family with coal, and being Abel's employer, felt justified in imposing his iron will on Whittle's body and spirit. By most reasonable modern standards, Farfrae's respect for Whittle's privacy and his limitation of the employer's role to workplace matters seem far more appropriate. However, we assess this from the perspective of citizens in the world Farfrae created, not the one Henchard inhabited. Although it is true that Whittle later endorses Farfrae's business ethics as fairer than the old order, it is also worth noting that Henchard's drastic method was apparently effective. We hear no further complaints about Whittle's oversleeping.

More convincingly, when the Mayor's fortunes completely collapse, it is Whittle he turns to for help. The previously humiliated employee goes to great personal lengths to assist his former oppressor in finding a place to live out his final days because "he was kind-like to mother when she wer here below, though 'a was rough to me." This significant moment can be interpreted to support Hardy's argument about the new model in two ways. Henchard's old approach was indeed authoritarian and paternalistic but was based on a genuine care and concern that many readers do not observe in Farfrae's method of handling his official or public duties.

A clearer example of Hardy's perspective on the new ways represented by Farfrae is found in the well-known scene where a new seed drill is introduced to the farming community. While sitting in the home of Henchard's former lover, Elizabeth-Jane and Lucetta view the new machine as a grotesque combination of natural creatures, "hornet, grasshopper, and shrimp, magnified enormously." Henchard finds the new device absurd. However, Farfrae, from within the machine, begins to sing, subtly creating the illusion of merging the organic with the mechanical, the aesthetic with the practical. He delights in the machine's complexity and promises it will "revolutionize" planting by ensuring accurate and controlled seed distribution, which is essentially a farmer's capital. Elizabeth-Jane Henchard voices the romantic in Hardy and all of us: "Then the romance of the sower is gone for good." Farfrae reluctantly acknowledges that the charming inefficiency must eventually give way to the progress overseen by men like himself.

The machine is an unattractive, efficient beast that can produce music if the right singer is inside it and will ultimately render the sower obsolete. While many who rely on agriculture for employment will miss the wages that manual sowing provides, and poets and painters will mourn the loss of this picturesque figure on the horizon, most people who have labored with heavy bags of seed day after day might find it difficult to understand what is so lamentable. Thus, we can construct Hardy's vision of a changing commercial order in The Mayor of Casterbridge. Clearly, neither the pastoral past with its paternalism nor the new era with its efficiency and precision is without flaws. Hardy, like the reader, recognizes an unstoppable progress that cannot be halted and a past that cannot be entirely forgotten.

Late Nineteenth Century: The price of English grain is dropping due to competition from international farmers. Improved transportation and refrigeration allow foreign farmers to export grain to England, undercutting local producers. Large estates in England's grain-growing areas, such as Hardy’s Wessex, experience declining profits and, in some cases, are divided into smaller farms. Unemployment among farm workers is high. However, dairy and fruit farmers thrive as they do not face foreign competition.

Today: England imports the majority of its food, including grain. The income from crops is only about one-third of that from livestock and dairy products. Nonetheless, southern England remains a significant farming region. Farms are significantly smaller than during Hardy’s era, averaging less than 250 acres, and are much more mechanized. Key crops include wheat, potatoes, barley, sugar beets, and oats.

Late Nineteenth Century: The Third Reform Bill of 1884 extends voting rights to male farm workers in England; previously, only upper-class men could vote. Additionally, new laws enable upper-class women to retain their property upon marriage, vote in local elections, and attend universities. However, working-class women like Susan in The Mayor of Casterbridge still have almost no legal rights.

Today: All men and women in England have the right to vote in all elections, with more than one hundred women serving in Parliament. Women also enjoy property rights and access to higher education equal to those of men.

Late Nineteenth Century: Queen Victoria, the namesake of the Victorian era, celebrates her golden jubilee—fifty years of reign—in 1887 and her diamond jubilee in 1897.

Today: Queen Elizabeth II ascended to the throne in 1952 and celebrated her golden jubilee in 2002.

The Mayor of Casterbridge shares many characteristics with the serialized novels that were immensely popular in Victorian England. Additionally, its enduring appeal can be attributed to its connections with classic and Shakespearian tragedies, which Hardy greatly admired.

Tragic fiction fundamentally involves the hero's relative isolation as they confront forces that overwhelm and ultimately intimidate ordinary individuals. To give Henchard this tragic stature, Hardy adheres closely to Aristotle's advice in the Poetics, focusing on a character who is both superior and inferior to us—superior in his capacity for suffering, yet his fate results from his own tragic flaw. Henchard's flaw is his excessive and impulsive nature, characterized by his grandiose rages and brooding, which are both awe-inspiring and contemptible. This flaw causes harm to himself and others but also leads him to a profound, albeit dreadful, self-awareness.

Hardy consistently emphasizes Henchard's tragic dimension by reminding readers of history's presence, a collective past stretching back to Roman conquest. This historical backdrop adds a sense of scope and grandeur fitting for a tragedy to the pastoral landscape of Wessex. Furthermore, The Mayor of Casterbridge can almost be seen as a parallel to Shakespeare's greatest tragedy, King Lear (1605). Like Lear, Henchard makes a catastrophic error in judgment driven by his immense pride. This mistake harms an innocent descendant, though in Henchard's case, the woman is not technically his child. Both characters are physically ruined by the consequences of their pride and experience tearful reconciliations with those they have wronged, only to lose their daughters again and fall into such deep despair that life appears meaningless.

Hardy reinforces this connection by frequently referencing the heath, a hovel, and solitude at the story's end, all reminiscent of the middle acts of King Lear. Finally, Henchard's confession to Donald Farfrae—"God is my witness that no man ever loved another as I did thee at one time . . . And now—though I came here to kill 'ee, I cannot hurt 'ee!"—echoes, in a minor way, the powerful admissions of Lear’s tragic recognition.

Unabridged audio editions of The Mayor of Casterbridge have been released by several publishers: Books on Tape, Inc. (1983), Chivers Audio Books (1991), John Curley and Associates (1991, narrated by Tony Britton), and the Audio Partners Publishing Corporation (1998, narrated by John Rowe).

The Mayor of Casterbridge was adapted into a seven-part television miniseries in the United Kingdom in 1978. Directed by David Giles III and written by Dennis Potter, the cast featured Alan Bates as Henchard, Jack Galloway as Farfrae, Janet Maw as Elizabeth-Jane, and Anne Stallybrass as Susan.

In 2001, a made-for-television film adaptation of The Mayor of Casterbridge was directed by David Thacker and scripted by Ted Whitehead. The film starred Ciarán Hinds as Henchard, James Purefoy as Farfrae, Jodhi May as Elizabeth-Jane, and Juliet Aubrey as Susan.

Sources
Alden, H. M., Review of The Mayor of Casterbridge, in Harper’s New Monthly Magazine, November 1886, pp. 961–62.

Guerard, Albert J., Thomas Hardy: The Novels and Stories, Harvard University Press, 1949.

Seymour-Smith, Martin, Introduction, in The Mayor of Casterbridge, Penguin Books, 1978, p. 21.

Further Reading
Armstrong, Tim, Haunted Hardy: Poetry History, Memory, St. Martin’s Press, 2000. This book examines Hardy’s poetry with a focus on themes of death and the presence of ghosts, particularly those of lost children.

Bettey, J. H., Rural Life in Wessex, 1500–1900, Sutton Publishing, 1989. This nonfiction work delves into the rural life of Wessex before and during Hardy’s era, providing a detailed look at the region where much of Hardy’s literature is set.

Mallett, Phillip, ed., The Achievement of Thomas Hardy, Palgrave, 2000. This collection of essays explores various aspects of Hardy’s fiction and poetry, including storytelling techniques and the interplay between his poems and songs.

Mitchell, Sally, Daily Life in Victorian England, Greenwood Publishing Group, 1996. This thorough examination of life in Victorian England covers urban and rural settings, social classes, morals, economics, laws, and more, featuring excerpts from primary sources and illustrations.

Turner, Paul D. L., The Life of Thomas Hardy: A Critical Biography, edited by Claude Rawson, Blackwell Publications, 1998. This biography’s thirty-two chapters discuss the biographical and literary context of Hardy’s works. Notably, it highlights Hardy’s self-education in Greek and Latin and the subsequent influence of Greek tragedy, Latin poetry, and Shakespeare on his writing.