CHAPTER SIX

A New Life

One beautiful morning in May, Tess Durbeyfield left her parents' house for the second time. It was more than two years after her return from Trantridge. She went in the opposite direction, to the Talbothays dairy farm.

She took a carriage, and then she walked. She carried a basket. She could see the trees that surrounded Kingsbere. She could see the church where her ancestors were buried. She no longer admired or respected them, but hated them for ruining her life. All they had left her family were an old seal and a spoon.

"Well," thought Tess, "my mother was a milkmaid, too."

It took her two hours on foot to reach the hill near the Valley of the Great Dairies. The valley received water from the river Froom. Huge amounts of milk and butter were made in the valley, more so than in Tess' Vale of Blackmoor. The Vale of Blackmoor was also called the Vale of Little Dairies.

As she looked from the hill, she realized that the valleys were very different. In the Valley of the Great Dairies, the fields and farms were much bigger. She saw more cows than ever before. The setting sun shone on the red, white and brown cow bodies. She knew the view of Blackmoor better. She did not think the new valley was as pretty as her old home, but this view made her happier. The air was clear and the river rushed by quickly.

Whether it was the change in the air or the start of a new life, Tess felt hopeful and happy. She still wanted to be happy and find pleasure. She was still only 20 years old and was young, beautiful and very strong. She could not stay sad for too long.

Tess wanted to show that she was grateful for a second chance. She sang love songs and songs from church that talked about God. But then she stopped. "Maybe I do not really know God," she thought.

Tess was happy to live independently. She wanted to live an honest life and work hard, unlike her lazy father. Women often live through terrible things, and Tess wanted to do well for herself.

Tess walked down the hill towards the dairy farm. It was time to milk the cows. She followed the cows into the farm. The milkmen and milkmaids came from their cottages as the cows arrived. The girls sat on stools as they milked the cows with their cheeks against the cows' bodies. They saw Tess arrive. The men did not see her.

Tess saw the head dairyman. He was middle aged and wore white milking clothes. He worked six days each week milking cows and making butter. Every Sunday he wore his best clothes and took his family to church.

Most dairymen are in a bad mood when milking time comes. But Mr Richard Crick, the head dairyman, was happy to see Tess. He needed a new dairymaid because it was a busy time of the year. He was very polite and asked Tess about her family.

"When I was young, I knew your part of the countryside very well," he said. "An old woman told me that an ancient, noble family once lived there. She said they originally came from there and had a name like yours. That woman is dead now, and I didn't pay much attention to her."

"Oh, that's just a story," said Tess.

"Well," said Mr Crick, "can you milk cows well? It's very busy and I don't want any of them to dry up."

"Yes, I can."

He looked at her pale face and soft hands.

"I hope you're strong enough for this work. It's very difficult."

"I'm very strong," said Tess. "I'm used to working hard."

"Then have some tea and some food. You have traveled far."

"I would rather work right away," said Tess. "I'll just drink some milk first."

Mr Crick was surprised. He no longer liked to drink milk because he had had so much of it.

"Have some," he said. "I haven't had milk in years." He offered her a bucket of milk and showed her which cow she would work on.

As Tess sat on her stool and milk ran through her fingers, she felt like her new life was beginning. She relaxed and looked around her. She saw that it was a large dairy farm, with almost one hundred cows. Dairyman Crick milked the difficult cows. He did not trust the milkmaids to do it. If they did a bad job, the cows would dry up and give no more milk.

Everyone worked in silence. Then Mr Crick said, "We're not getting as much milk from the cows as we usually do. We should sing to them." The men and women began to sing so the cows would give more milk.

"I think the bulls like the music better than the cows. There is a story about a man named William Dewy," continued Crick. "On his way home from a wedding, he got lost in a field with an angry bull. He played some music on his violin and the bull sat on the ground to listen. Then William escaped."

"Is it a true story?" asked one of the men.

"Yes, it is very true, sir. I knew William well."

Tess did not understand why the head dairyman would call one of his workers 'sir.' Then the man stood up. Tess could see that even though he wore white milking clothes, he was different underneath. He looked like an educated gentleman. Then she realized that she had seen him once before. He had stopped to watch the May Day dance so long ago. He had danced with other girls, but had not danced with Tess.

Tess was worried that if he saw her he might recognize her. But he didn't remember her. He looked older and more thoughtful since she had seen him a few years ago. He had a mustache and beard. It was obvious that he was a beginner at the dairy because he did not milk well.

Tess found out that only a few of the milkmaids slept at the house. They shared a bedroom near the cheese-making room. That night, the other girls told Tess stories about the workers in the dairy. Tess was half asleep and heard their voices float away.

"Mr Angel Clare is learning to milk," said one girl. "He thinks a lot. He doesn't seem to notice women. His father is minister at Emminster, which is far from here. All of his sons except for Angel are going to be ministers, too."

Tess was tired and soon fell asleep.

(end of section)