island； and the vicar was the master。 His soul was master of the
other man's。 And why……why？ She decided it was a question of
knowledge。
The curate was poor enough； and not very efficacious as a
man； either； yet he took rank with those others； the superior。
She watched his children being born； she saw them running as
tiny things beside their mother。 And already they were separate
from her own children； distinct。 Why were her own children
marked below the others？ Why should the curate's children
inevitably take precedence over her children； why should
dominance be given them from the start？ It was not money； nor
even class。 It was education and experience； she decided。
It was this； this education； this higher form of being； that
the mother wished to give to her children； so that they too
could live the supreme life on earth。 For her children； at least
the children of her heart； had the plete nature that should
take place in equality with the living； vital people in the
land； not be left behind obscure among the labourers。 Why must
they remain obscured and stifled all their lives； why should
they suffer from lack of freedom to move？ How should they learn
the entry into the finer； more vivid circle of life？
Her imagination was fired by the squire's lady at Shelly
Hall； who came to church at Cossethay with her little children；
girls in tidy capes of beaver fur； and smart little hats；
herself like a winter rose； so fair and delicate。 So fair； so
fine in mould； so luminous； what was it that Mrs。 Hardy felt
which she； Mrs。 Brangwen； did not feel？ How was Mrs。 Hardy's
nature different from that of the mon women of Cossethay； in
what was it beyond them？ All the women of Cossethay talked
eagerly about Mrs。 Hardy； of her husband； her children； her
guests； her dress； of her servants and her housekeeping。 The
lady of the Hall was the living dream of their lives； her life
was the epic that inspired their lives。 In her they lived
imaginatively； and in gossiping of her husband who drank； of her
scandalous brother； of Lord William Bentley her friend； member
of Parliament for the division； they had their own Odyssey
enacting itself； Penelope and Ulysses before them； and Circe and
the swine and the endless web。
So the women of the village were fortunate。 They saw
themselves in the lady of the manor； each of them lived her own
fulfilment of the life of Mrs。 Hardy。 And the Brangwen wife of
the Marsh aspired beyond herself； towards the further life of
the finer woman； towards the extended being she revealed； as a
traveller in his self…contained manner reveals far…off countries
present in himself。 But why should a knowledge of far…off
countries make a man's life a different thing； finer； bigger？
And why is a man more than the beast and the cattle that serve
him？ It is the same thing。
The male part of the poem was filled in by such men as the
vicar and Lord William； lean； eager men with strange movements；
men who had mand of the further fields； whose lives ranged
over a great extent。 Ah； it was something very desirable to
know； this touch of the wonderful men who had the power of
thought and prehension。 The women of the village might be
much fonder of Tom Brangwen； and more at their ease with him；
yet if their lives had been robbed of the vicar； and of Lord
William； the leading shoot would have been cut away from them；
they would have been heavy and uninspired and inclined to hate。
So long as the wonder of the beyond was before them； they could
get along； whatever their lot。 And Mrs。 Hardy； and the vicar；
and Lord William； these moved in the wonder of the beyond； and
were visible to the eyes of Cossethay in their motion。
II
About 1840； a canal was constructed across the meadows of the
Marsh Farm； connecting the newly…opened collieries of the
Erewash Valley。 A high embankment travelled along the fields to
carry the canal； which passed close to the homestead； and；
reaching the road； went over in a heavy bridge。
So the Marsh was shut off from Ilkeston； and enclosed in the
small valley bed； which ended in a bushy hill and the village
spire of Cossethay。
The Brangwens received a fair sum of money from this trespass
across their land。 Then； a short time afterwards； a colliery was
sunk on the other side of the canal； and in a while the Midland
Railway came down the valley at the foot of the Ilkeston hill；
and the invasion was plete。 The town grew rapidly； the
Brangwens were kept busy producing supplies； they became richer；
they were almost tradesmen。
Still the Marsh remained remote and original； on the old；
quiet side of the canal embankment； in the sunny valley where
slow water wound along in pany of stiff alders； and the road
went under ash…trees past the Brangwens' garden gate。
But； looking from the garden gate down the road to the right；
there； through the dark archway of the canal's square aqueduct；
was a colliery spinning away in the near distance； and further；
red； crude houses plastered on the valley in masses； and beyond
all； the dim smoking hill of the town。
The homestead was just on the safe side of civilization；
outside the gate。 The house stood bare from the road； approached
by a straight garden path； along which at spring the daffodils
were thick in green and yellow。 At the sides of the house were
bushes of lilac and guelder…rose and privet； entirely hiding the
farm buildings behind。
At the back a confusion of sheds spread into the home…close
from out of two or three indistinct yards。 The duck…pond lay
beyond the furthest wall； littering its white feathers on the
padded earthen banks； blowing its stray soiled feathers into the
grass and the gorse bushes below the canal embankment； which
rose like a high rampart near at hand； so that occasionally a
man's figure passed in silhouette； or a man and a towing horse
traversed the sky。
At first the Brangwens were astonished by all this motion
around them。 The building of a canal across their land made them
strangers in their own place； this raw bank of earth shutting
them off disconcerted them。 As they worked in the fields； from
beyond the now familiar embankment came the rhythmic run of the
winding engines； startling at first； but afterwards a narcotic
to the brain。 Then the shrill whistle of the trains re…echoed
through the heart； with fearsome pleasure； announcing the
far…off e near and imminent。
As they drove home from town； the farmers of the land met the
blackened colliers trooping from the pit…mouth。 As they gathered
the harvest； the west wind brought a faint； sulphurous smell of
pit…refuse burning。 As they pulled the turnips in November； the
sharp clink…clink…clink…clink…clink of empty trucks shunting on
the line； vibrated in their hearts with the fact of other
activity going on beyond them。
The Alfred Brangwen of this period had married a woman from
Heanor； a daughter of the 〃Black Horse〃。 She was a slim； pretty；
dark woman； quaint in her speech； whimsical； so that the sharp
things she said did not hurt。 She was oddly a thing to herself；
rather querulous in her manner； but intrinsically separate and
indifferent； so that her long lamentable plaints； when she
raised her voice against her husband in particular and against
everybody else after him； only made those who heard her wonder
and feel affectionately towards her； even while they were
irritated and impatient with her。 She railed long and loud about
her husband； but always with a balanced； easy…flying voice and a
quaint manner of speech that warmed his belly with pride and
male triumph while he scowled with mortification at the things
she said。
Consequently Brangwen himself had a humorous puckering at the
eyes； a sort of fat laugh； very quiet and full； and he was
spoilt like a lord of creation。 He calmly did as he liked；
laughed at their railing； excused himself in a teasing tone that
she loved； followed his natural inclinations； and sometimes；
pricked too near the quick； frightened and broke her by a deep；
tense fury which seemed to fix on him and hold him for days； and
which she would give anything to placate in him。 They were two
very separate beings； vitally connected； knowin