Fifty Seven: Far From The Madding Crowd: Thomas Hardy - A Foggy Night & Morning

"The most private, secret and plainest wedding that's possible to have." 

Those had been Bathsheba's words to Oak one evening, and he had meditated a full hour upon how to carry out her wishes to the letter and spirit. 

"First a licence." Gabriel thought.

On a dark night a few days later Oak came with mysterious steps from the surrogate's door in Casterbridge. On way back to home he met Jan Coggan.  They walked together into the village till they came to a little lane behind the church, leading down to the cottage of Laban Tall, who had lately been installed as a clerk of the parish, and was yet in mortal terror at church on Sundays when he heard his lone voice among certain hard words of the psalm, wither no man ventured to follow him. 

"Well, goodnight, Coggan," said Oak, "I am going down this way." 

"Oh, said Coggan, surprised.  "What is going on tonight then, make so bold, Mr Oak?"

It seemed rather ungenerous not to tell Coggan under the circumstances, for Coggan had been true as steel all through the time of Gabriel's unhappiness about Bathsheba, and Gabriel said, "You can keep a secret, Coggan?"

"You have proved me, and you know." 

"Yes, I have; and I do know.  Well, then, mistress and I mean to get married tomorrow morning."

"Heaven's high tower! .... And yet I have thought of such a thing from time to time: true I have.  But keeping it so close!  Well there, that's no business of mine.  And I wish you joy o' her."

"Thank you, Coggan.  But I assure you that this great hush is not what I wished at all or what either of us would have wished if it hadn't been for certain things which would make a gay wedding seem hardly the thing.  Bathsheba has a great wish that all the parish shall not be in the church looking at her; she's shy like and nervous about it, in fact; so I am doing this to humour her."

"Aye, I see; quite right too, I suppose I might say, and you are now going down to the clerk? "

"Yes.  You may as well come with me."

"I am afraid, your labour in keeping it close will be all thrown away," said Coggan as they walked along. Laban Tall's old woman will horn it all over the parish in half an hour." 

"So she will, upon my life; I never thought of that," said Oak, pausing. 

"Yet I must tell him tonight, I suppose, for he's working so far off, and leaves early in the morning." 

"I will tell you how we'll tackle her," said Coggan.  "I will knock and ask to speak to Laban outside the door, you standing in the background.  "Then he will come out, and you can tell your tale.  She'll never guess what I want him for; and I will make up a few words about the farm work as a blind."

This scheme was considered feasible, and Coggan advanced boldly, and rapped Mrs Tall's door.  Mrs Tall herself opened it. 

"I wanted to have a word with Laban." 

"He's not at home, and won't be this side of eleven o'clock. He's been found to go to Yalbury since having work.  I shall do quite as well." 

"I hardly think you will." 

"I can tell him anything."

"Stop a moment," Coggan stepped round the corner of the porch to consult Oak. 

"Who's the other man there?" said Mrs Tall. 

"Only a friend," said Coggan. 

"Say he's wanted to meet meet mistress near the church-hatch tomorrow morning at ten," said Oak in a whisper, that he must come without a fail, and wear his best clothes."

"The best clothes will floor us as safe as houses," said Coggan.

"It can't be helped," said Oak.  "Tell her." 

So Coggan delivered the message. 

"Mind, het or wet, blow or snow, he must come," added Jan Coggan.  'Tis very particular indeed.  The fact is it is to witness her sign some law work about taking shares with another farmer for a long term.  There that's what it is, and now I have told you, Mother Tall, in a way I shouldn't have done if I hadn't loved you so hopeless well."

Coggan retired before she could ask any further, and as the clerk was not at home Gabriel called at the vicar's as well, which excited no curiosity among the servants, Oak having become church warden on entering the Lower Farm.  Then Oak went home and prepared for the morrow.

                       **********

"Liddy," said Bathsheba, on going to bed that night.  "I want you to call me at seven o'clock tomorrow, in case I shouldn't wake."

"But you always wake before then, ma'am."

"Yes, but I have something important to do, which I will tell you of when the time comes, and it's best to make sure."

Bathsheba however woke by herself by the time.  She went and tapped at Liddy's door, and after some labour awoke her.

"But I thought it was I who had to call you," said bewildered Liddy and it isn't six yet."

"Indeed it is; how can you say such a story, Liddy? Come to my room as soon as you can.  I want to give my hair a good brushing."

When Liddy came Bathsheba was waiting for her.  Liddy could not understand this extraordinary promptness.  "Whatever is going on, ma'am?" she said.

"Well, I will tell you," said Bathsheba with a mischievous smile in her bright eyes.  "Farmer Oak is coming here to dine with me today."

"Farmer Oak --- and nobody else?  You two alone?"

"Yes."

"But is it safe ma'am?" said her companion.  A woman's good name is such a perishable article that" ---

Bathsheba laughed with a flushed cheek, and whispered in Liddy's ear, although there was nobody present.

Liddy stared and exclaimed, "Souls alive, what news.  It makes my heart go quite bumpity -bump!"

"It makes mine rather furious too," said Bathsheba.  "However there is no getting out of it now."

It was a damp morning.  At twenty minutes to ten o'clock Gabriel Oak came out of his house and 

"Went up the hill side 

With that sort of stride

A man puts out when walking in search of a bride." 

And knocked Bathsheba's door. Ten minutes later.  Two large umbrellas were seen from the same door moving through the mist along the same road to the church.  The distance was not more than hundred yards, still the two sensible persons deemed it necessary to drive. And the persons under the umbrella were Bathsheba and Gabriel Oak.  Arm in arm for the first time, Oak in great coat extending to his knees, and Bathsheba in a cloak extending down her clogs [1].  

Repose had again incarnadined her cheeks; her hair was arranged as she had worn it years ago on Norcombe Hill.  So, she appeared to Gabriel Oak like a girl of his first fascinating dream.  In the church the deed was done in the presence of Tall, Liddy, and parson.

In the evening of the same day the couple sat ko tea in Bathsheba's parlour.  Just as Bathsheba was pouring out a cup, their ears were greeted by the firing of a cannon, followed by tremendous blowing of trumpets in front of the house.

"There," said Oak, laughing, "I knew those fellows were upto something, by the look of their faces." 

Oak took up the light and went into the porch, followed by Bathsheba with a shawl over her head.  Light fell on the men gathered upon the gravel in front.  A loud "Hurrah!" followed by another bang of cannon, and the clang of drum, tambourine, clarionet, 

serpent and hautboy, tenor viol, and the double bass, relics of a Weatherbury band.  The performers came forward and marched upto the front of the house.

"Those bright boys, Mark Clark and Jan Coggan are at the bottom of this," said Oak.  "Come in souls, and have something to eat and drink with me and my wife."

"Not tonight," said Mr Clark, with evident self-denial.

"Thank you all the same, but we will call at more seemly time.  However, we couldn't think of letting the day passed without a note of admiration of some sort.  If you could send a drop of somewhat down to Warren's, why so it is.  Here's long life and happiness to neighbour Oak and his bride."

"Thank you, thank you all," said Gabriel.  "A bit and drop shall be sent to Warren's for you at once.  I had thought that we might very likely get a salute of some sort from our old friends, and I was saying so to my wife but now."

"Faith," said Coggan in a critical tone, turning to his companions, "the man have learnt to say 'my wife' in a wonderful natural way, considering how very youthful he is in wedlock as yet --- hey, neighbours all?"

"I never heard a skillful old married feller of twenty years standing pipe

'my wife' in a more used note than a-did," said  Jacob Small Smallbury.  "It might have been more true to nature if it had been spoken a little chillier; but that was hardly expected just now."

"That improvement will come with time," said Coggan twirling his eyes.

Oak laughed and Bathsheba smiled, for she never laughed readily now, and their friends turned to go.

"Well, I suppose that's about the size of it," said Joseph Poorgrass, with a cheerful sigh as they turned away, "And I wish him joy o' her, though I were once or twice upon saying today with holy Hosea in my scripture manner, which is my second nature, Ephraim is Joined to Idols , let him alone.  But since 'tis as 'tis, why it might have been worse, and I feel my thanks accordingly."

            END OF THE NOVEL 

1. Heavy wooden soled shoes.