'It is safer to accept any chance that offers itself, and extemporize a procedure to fit it, than to get a good plan matured, and wait for a chance of using it.' - Far From the Madding Crowd
Every once in a while, God sends an opportunity our way that is so unexpected and so wonderful that our whole vision of the future is instantly brightened. It rarely happens that I wake up smiling with no emotional or mental weight on my chest. This past weekend, I experienced the overwhelming happiness that comes from a once-in-a-lifetime experience being presented to me.
I'll start from the beginning. This past Friday, I headed to Dorchester (a small town in the south of England, in the county of Dorset). Dorchester's claim to fame is being the home of the novelist and poet Thomas Hardy, whose works I absolutely love for their love and tragedy and natural landscape. Hardy was very much inspired by the rural surroundings of Dorset and set most of his novels in the area he knew best (he re-named Dorset "Wessex" in his works). I decided to head to Hardy's country for the Thomas Hardy Harvest Weekend, which was organized by the Thomas Hardy Society.
My train left Waterloo Station in London at 10:30am on Friday. On the three-hour journey, I passed some of England's most beautiful countryside. I also got to see my first glimpse of the English Channel - I was fortunate to see it on a sunny fall day.
The Channel
On the train.
From the Dorchester South station, I had about a 15-minute walk to the little bed and breakfast I booked a room at. Heading away from the town centre, I passed the loveliest churchyard I have ever seen. During my three days there, I failed to catch the name of this church, but I took a bunch of pictures of it. Just imagine this: A quiet walk on a fall day. There are green leaves on the trees still, though the sidewalk is covered with a carpet of yellow and red and brown shades. A young woman walks, suitcase in tow, along a road. On her left appears a small church and cemetery. The wind softly blows her hair off of her face and rustles the branches of the trees. The church, a small stone structure with a miniature turret on the north face stands in the middle of hundreds of stone crosses. The rolling hills of farmland are just visible in the background. The scene is dominated by a sense of peace, standing in stark contrast to the girl's recent days in the hustle and bustle of London.
I stopped for a moment near the stone wall enclosing the churchyard and marveled at its quaintness. This is the church where I want to get married, to have my children christened, and to be buried outside of. It's hard to explain how perfect this little area was - you'll just have to take my word for it. This was my first vision of Dorchester and proved to be the opening of one of the best weekends of my life.
After having my heart's fill of the church, I continued on my way. I spent the weekend at the Aquila Heights Guest House, which is a bed and breakfast off of Maiden Castle Road. The house is quite large (7 rooms, I believe) and has a wonderful little garden in the back. Guests come and go as they please and, unlike the hotels we have in America, there is personal attention paid to everyone who stays there. The proprietor, an elderly lady named Joan, was exceptionally sweet to me. I told her of the Poetry Evening I was going to attend that night at Max Gate (Hardy's home) and she immediately offered me a ride there. I depended a lot on the generosity of others this weekend and it seemed like everyone I met was willing to help me in any way they could. It was wonderful to receive such kindness from complete strangers.
Aquila Heights Guest House
In the few hours I had to kill before heading to Max Gate, I walked down to the Dorchester Town Centre to see the Hardy memorial and visit the Dorset County Museum, where Hardy's final study (including his desk, pens, books, and violin) has been preserved and is on display. The town of Dorchester is small - approximately five square blocks - and is made up of little cafes, shops, travel agencies, and hotels. There are a number of museums and churches, which I found strangely overlapped (there was a King Tut exhibit in one of the Anglican churches - I guess when you've limited space in town, you have to be creative). I spent an hour or so in the Dorset Country Museum, which in addition to Hardy's study has a collection of fossils from the Jurassic Coast (the southern coast of England) and an exhibit dedicated to the various writers from Dorset or who were inspired by Dorset.
Thomas Hardy Statue in Dorchester
The Dorset County Museum on the left and the Corn Exchange further down the street (converted into a theater where the Hardy players performed his works)
During my meanderings around the town, I also saw a number of buildings directly mentioned by Hardy in his novels. It's quite unique to see the exact places that a writer immortalizes in his work and I admire Dorchester for conserving these 19th century buildings for literary pilgrims like myself to see. Here's a few examples:
The Mayor of Casterbridge House - now a branch of Barclays bank
Saturday's sites: Maumbury Rings - a Neolithic grass fortress which Hardy sets the meetings between Henchard and his wife at in The Mayor of Casterbridge
The Kings Arms hotel - mentioned in several Hardy works
Friday night, I attended the Poetry Evening at Hardy's home, Max Gate. Members of the Hardy Society gathered to celebrate National Poetry Day by reading some of Hardy's poems in the parlor of his house. I met some really lovely people at the event, including a professor from St. Andrew's University in Scotland who offered to open his home and office to me when I visit Edinburgh in November; the couple who lived at Max Gate for the past 17 years; three post-grad students from Exeter University who gave me a ride back to Aquila Heights; and the doctoral student who is currently working and living at Max Gate (she's originally from Arkansas and is doing a Ph.D through St. Andrew's Uni). All of us Hardy admirers sat around and read some of his most famous poems and the poems of other writers inspired by Hardy. It was such a nice evening - good poetry, good people, good Dorset cider (it's delicious).
The next morning I woke up early to have a full English breakfast prepared by Joan. It was remarkable - eggs, English bacon, hash browns, Dorset mushrooms, fresh fruit, toast, and coffee. I loved it. And I later was extremely grateful for having such a substantial meal in the morning...
Here's where the adventure begins. I, in all my wisdom, decided to do a walk out to Thomas Hardy's cottage, where he lived until his marriage at the age of 34. I had gotten my hands on a little brochure that guided the walk to the church where Hardy's heart is buried, along one of his favorite walking paths, and then out to his cottage. The brochure said the walk to the cottage would be about 4 miles and I, figuring I'm young and in good shape, thought it'd be no problem. HA.
The walk started out lovely enough - rural countryside, sunny fall day, all that.
I walked through two fields for about, oh, 40 minutes and reached Stinsford Church, a building Hardy worked with his father to restore and in whose churchyard his heart is buried.
Hardy's heart is buried with the remains of his wives (Emma and Florence). His ashes are at Poets' Corner in Westminster Abbey.
Stinsford was lovely and I sat on an old bench in the cemetery to write and to rest for a little bit. I then headed back down to the path to continue on my way. The next stretch followed a 'river' (more like a creek - I should have known the brochure was not credible by this point). The path was really lovely, though I wish I had been smart and been on horseback like the other people I passed.
At the end of the path, I was routed through the village of Lower B-something, through a farmer's field and on to another grazing field. By this point, I've crossed five fields, opened multiple heavy, rusty old gates, and passed numerous farm animals (chickens, sheep, cows, etc.) and I've been walking for almost two hours. Then I come to this:
See that gate on the left? I have to exit the field through that. See those cows? They, too, want to exit through that (though they are held back by some wire fencing). As I approach said gate, said big black cow approaches. As I wiggle through the gate, the cow nudges me quite vigorously with her nose. Having never been so close to a cow before, I am quite shaken by this. It was an ordeal.
After walking another mile or so UPHILL, I finally come to a Tea House out in the middle of nowhere. I'm exhausted, my feet ache from walking through fields and across gravel roads. Then I see them - my saviors. Two ladies from Bath are in the parking lot, discussing how they're heading to Hardy's cottage. So I did what any tired college student would do: I hitchhiked. They happily gave me a ride the rest of the way to cottage, sparing me quite a hike through the woods.
The cottage was very pretty and, while I was upset at the writers of the brochure, I was glad I made the effort to come out to see it. The size of the rooms was shocking - a family of 6 or 7 squeezed into that little house! The cottage is preserved by the National Trust, along with the gardens and orchards.
Finally made it to the cottage!
Hardy's bedroom.
The family orchard.
The kind ladies from Bath (Sally and Jane) were then kind enough after our visit to the cottage to take me to lunch with them at a local restaurant and then on to Max Gate, Hardy's home where I had visited the night before. I again met the doctoral student staying at Max Gate as well as the woman who organizes the events and tenancy at the house. They were extremely nice to me, sending me upstairs to Hardy's study with a cup of coffee to spend a couple hours reading before my jaunt back to the bed and breakfast.
Max Gate
When I came back downstairs, I again had a little chat with them and the subject of the tenancy of Max Gate came up. Then it happened - the glorious chance that God sent my way. The doctoral student has to return to the States in May and there'll be an open position to live and work at Max Gate. The coordinator, Caroline, then inquired whether I'd be interested in staying there for a time. Um, YES!!! So this May, for a month or more, I will most likely be LIVING in THOMAS HARDY'S HOUSE - working, doing research, etc. HOW AMAZING IS THAT?! I'll be able to read and write in the study of one of the greatest English writers ever. I was blown away at having such an opportunity offered to me and I am now so excited about the spring! This also pretty much sets in stone my thesis topic - looking at Thomas Hardy's tragic heroines and investigating how their fates are a reflection of the laws and social expectations of late Victorian England. And I'll be doing the research for this in Dorchester, in Hardy's house, surrounded by members of the Hardy Society. Can you say "perfect"?!
Sunday morning, I woke up with a huge smile on my face. I was exhausted from Saturday's hike, but filled to the brim with excitement for the year ahead. Coming to London has been wonderful, but I never expected anything like this to happen. I am so truly blessed.
Before heading to the station to catch my train back to London, I walked out to Maiden Castle - a huge grass fortress just outside of Dorchester. The views were stunning, and though I didn't have time to walk up Maiden Castle, I could sit and marvel at the countryside for a few minutes.
My big Dorchester smile. So happy.
Maiden Castle - also appears in Hardy's novels (Far From the Madding Crowd)
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