Route by Great Western Railway vi Maidenhead and Twyford to Henley—The Red Lion Inn, place of accommodation for Mr. Eugene Wrayburn—Marriage of Mr. Wrayburn and Lizzie Hexam—The Anchor Inn, the “little inn” at which Bella Wilfer first visited Lizzie Hexam—Henley Railway Station—The Tow Path, scene of the interview between Lizzie and Eugene—Marsh Mill, at which Lizzie was employed—Neighbourhood where Betty Higden died—Shiplake Churchyard, where Betty was buried—“A cry for help”—West bank of Thames, Henley Bridge and Poplar Point, the neighbourhood where occurred Bradley Headstone’s attack on Eugene Wrayburn—Lizzie’s walk by Marsh Lock to the Eastern Tow Path beyond Henley Bridge—Her rescue of Eugene—Henley vi Aston and Medmenham to Hurley Lock, “Plashwater Weir Mill” Lock, Rogue Riderhood, Deputy Lockkeeper—Final scene of the Tragedy—Churchyard of Stoke Pogis—Mr. Micawber’s Quotation—The Homeward Journey—John Harmon’s Reflections.

A very delightful country excursion may be made for visiting the neighbourhood of Henley-on-Thames, of especial interest to the readers of “Our Mutual Friend.”

It may be remembered that Lizzie Hexam, desirous of avoiding the attentions of her (then) unworthy lover, Mr. Eugene Wrayburn, left London secretly, with the assistance of Riah—representative of the honourable firm of Messrs. Pubsey and Co.; that, by his recommendation, she obtained a situation at a Paper Mill (then under Jewish management), at some distance from the Metropolis, and remained for a time undisturbed in her country employment; that, thereafter, Eugene Wrayburn obtained her address by bribing the drunken father of “Jenny Wren,” the dolls’ dressmaker, and so followed Lizzie to her retreat, being in his turn watched and followed by the passionate and jealous schoolmaster, Bradley Headstone, who attempted his life on the river bank; that, near at hand, was the Angler’s Inn, to which Eugene—nearly dead—was carried by the heroic and devoted Lizzie, who saved him from a watery grave, and where “effect was given to the dolls’ dressmaker’s discovery,” one night, some weeks later, by their romantic marriage, while it was yet doubtful whether the bridegroom would survive; that the death of Betty Higden occurred “On the Borders of Oxfordshire,” near the mill at which Lizzie Hexam was engaged, Lizzie herself attending the last moments of the dying woman, and accepting her last request; that in accordance with such request poor Betty was decently interred in a contiguous churchyard, the charges being defrayed by her own hard earnings, specially saved for the purpose; and that, on this occasion, the first meeting of Lizzie and Miss Bella Wilfer took place, when a very interesting and touching interview ensued, which greatly assisted Bella in confirmation of a brave and righteous decision in re money versus love. Also that, at no great distance from this locality, was situated “Plashwater Weir Mill Lock,” where Rogue Riderhood did duty as deputy lock-keeper, and where, at the last, he and Bradley Headstone were drowned.

These localities are in the neighbourhood of Henley, and may be readily verified by the intelligent Rambler, adopting the excursion by land and water, as subjoined.

Leaving Paddington Terminus of the Great Western Railway, we pass Westbourne Park Junction, and the well-arranged grounds of Kensal Green Cemetery (in which repose the mortal remains of Leigh Hunt, Sidney Smith, John Leech, and Thackeray) on the right, travelling westward by the suburban stations of Acton, Ealing, and Castle Hill, and cross the Wharncliffe Viaduct to Hanwell.

To the left may be seen the handsome building of the Middlesex Lunatic Asylum. We next arrive at Southall, and afterwards cross the Grand Junction Canal to Hayes and West Drayton. Our train now passes from Middlesex to Buckinghamshire, and steams onwards in the neighbourhood of Langley Park—seen on the right. The tower of Langley Church may be observed on the left, rising from the trees, as we speed forward to Slough, where we obtain a distant glimpse of the Royal Castle of Windsor, two miles southward.

Resuming the journey we come, in four miles’ run, to the pleasant village of Taplow, on the borders of the Thames (here dividing the counties of Buckinghamshire and Berkshire), and within easy distance of Burnham Beeches, a favourite picnic resort. The train now crosses the river, next arriving at Maidenhead, a market town on the Thames. On the right, observation may be taken of Maidenhead Bridge, a noble erection of thirteen arches. Thereafter we soon arrive at Twyford Junction, where we change (unless seated in a special through carriage) for Henley, situated four miles northward, and served by a branch line. The town itself is very pleasantly situated on the Thames, with an old church and handsome bridge, but is of special interest to Dickensian students as containing the Inn at which Mr. Eugene Wrayburn found accommodation on the occasion of his journey in pursuit of Lizzie Hexam. See “Our Mutual Friend,” book 3, chapter 1, in which Bradley Headstone, returning to Plashwater Weir, is described as reporting the circumstance to the deputy lock-keeper—

“‘Lock ho! Lock.’ It was a light night, and a barge coming down summoned him (Riderhood) out of a long doze. In due course he had let the barge through and was alone again, looking to the closing of his gates, when Bradley Headstone appeared before him, standing on the brink of the Lock. ‘Halloa,’ said Riderhood. ‘Back a’ready, T’otherest?’ ‘He has put up for the night at an Angler’s Inn,’ was the fatigued and hoarse reply. ‘He goes on, up the river, at six in the morning. I have come back for a couple of hours’ rest.’”

The Red Lion Inn thus referred to is situated north of Henley Bridge, on the west bank of the river, and is a favourite resort for disciples of Izaak Walton and boating men in general. Here it was that Eugene Wrayburn—after the murderous attack by the schoolmaster—was brought almost lifeless by Lizzie, when rescued by her from the river, as narrated in chapter 6—

“She ran the boat ashore, went into the water, released him from the line, and by main strength lifted him in her arms and laid him in the bottom of the boat. He had fearful wounds upon him, and she bound them up with her dress torn into strips. Else, supposing him to be still alive, she foresaw that he must bleed to death before he could be landed at his inn, which was the nearest place for succour. . . . She rowed hard—rowed desperately, but never wildly—and seldom removed her eyes from him in the bottom of the boat. She had so laid him there as that she might see his disfigured face; it was so much disfigured that his mother might have covered it, but it was above and beyond disfigurement in her eyes. The boat touched the edge of inn lawn, sloping gently to the water. There were lights in the windows, but there chanced to be no one out of doors. She made the boat fast, and again by main strength took him up, and never laid him down until she laid him down in the house.”

The landing-place and patch of inn lawn, above indicated, may now be verified as belonging to the “Red Lion” at Henley aforesaid. The lawn is a favourite standpoint for spectators interested in the Henley Royal Regatta, which takes place every year usually about the beginning of July.

The marriage of Eugene and Lizzie took place at this same inn some weeks later, while it was yet uncertain that Eugene would recover; the Rev. Frank Milvey officiating at the bedside, Bella and her husband, Mr. Lightwood, Mrs. Milvey, and Jenny Wren being duly in attendance—

“They all stood round the bed, and Mr. Milvey, opening his book, began the service, so rarely associated with the shadow of death; so inseparable in the mind from a flush of life and gaiety and health and hope and joy. Bella thought how different from her own sunny little wedding, and wept. Mrs. Milvey overflowed with pity, and wept too. The dolls’ dressmaker, with her hands before her face, wept in her golden bower. Reading in a low, clear voice, and bending over Eugene, who kept his eyes upon him, Mr. Milvey did his office with suitable simplicity. As the bridegroom could not move his hand, they touched his fingers with the ring, and so put it on the bride. When the two plighted their troth, she laid her hand on his, and kept it there. When the ceremony was done, and all the rest departed from the room, she drew her arm under his head, and laid her own head down on the pillow by his side. ‘Undraw the curtains, my dear girl,’ said Eugene, after a while, ‘and let us see our wedding-day.’ The sun was rising, and his first rays struck into the room, as she came back and put her lips to his. ‘I bless the day!’ said Eugene. ‘I bless the day!’ said Lizzie.”

[The clergyman and friends who assisted on this interesting occasion as above, left London from Waterloo Station. We may remember that Mrs. Rokesmith, escorted by Mr. Lightwood, came into town by rail from Greenwich. Thus they would change trains at Waterloo Junction, and adopt the South-Western Route as being the more convenient, travelling to Reading, and driving thence to Henley. It was at this terminus that Bradley Headstone first heard (from Mr. Milvey) of the intended wedding, and was so seriously upset by the news, that an attack of epilepsy ensued in consequence. We thus read in chapter 11, book 4, with reference to Bella and her escort:—

“From Greenwich they started directly for London, and in London they waited at a railway station until such time as the Rev. Frank Milvey, and Margaretta, his wife, with whom Mortimer Lightwood had been already in conference, should come and join them. . . . Then the train rattled among the house-tops, and among the ragged sides of houses, torn down to make way for it, over the swarming streets, and under the fruitful earth, until it shot across the river. . . . A carriage ride succeeded near the solemn river. . . . They drew near the chamber where Eugene lay.”

This is certainly descriptive of the South-Western Railway, and is not applicable to the Great Western Route.]

For full particulars the reader is referred to chapter 11, book 4. On the occasion of Bella Wilfer’s First Visit to Henley, and the introduction of the two girls to each other, as narrated in chapter 9, book 3 (in association with the burial of old Betty Higden), mention is made of “the little inn,” at which Bella’s friends were then accommodated. This was not the “Red Lion,” but, in all probability, was The Anchor Inn, a small, but very comfortable hostelry in Friday Street, near the river. Visitors desiring to combine economy with homeliness, are recommended to follow Miss Wilfer’s lead in this regard, and commit themselves to the hospitable care of the present landlord.

The Railway Station at Henley is referred to in the last-named chapter as being near at hand, when “the Rev. Frank and Mrs. Frank, and Sloppy, and Bella and the Secretary set out to walk to it;” the two last dropping behind, for a little confidential conversation on the road. We read that

“The railway, at this point knowingly shutting a green eye and opening a red one, they had to run for it. As Bella could not run easily so wrapped up, the Secretary had to help her. When she took her opposite place in the carriage corner, the brightness in her face was so charming to behold, that on her exclaiming, ‘What beautiful stars and what a glorious night!’ the Secretary said, ‘Yes,’ but seemed to prefer to see the night and the stars in the light of her lovely little countenance, to looking out of window.”

A short walk of five minutes from the station, southward by the riverside (west bank), will bring the Rambler to The Tow Path, the scene of that memorable interview between Lizzie and Eugene, recorded in chapter 6, book 4, as taking place previous to the catastrophe by which Wrayburn nearly lost his life. The path leads to Marsh Mill, about half a mile from Henley; a large and important paper mill, now in the occupation of Mr. Wells, situated near the weir, with its long wooden bridge leading to the lock. This was the mill at which Lizzie Hexam, secretly leaving London, found refuge and occupation, on the recommendation of her old friend Mr. Riah, her worthy employers being a firm of Hebrew nationality. We first read of this mill in connection with the closing scenes of Betty Higden’s history, as narrated in chapter 8, book 3, and headed “The end of a long journey”—

“There now arose in the darkness a great building full of lighted windows. Smoke was issuing from a high chimney in the rear of it, and there was the sound of a water-wheel at the side. Between her and the building lay a piece of water, in which the lighted windows were reflected, and on its nearest margin was a plantation of trees. ‘I humbly thank the Power and the Glory,’ said Betty Higden, holding up her withered hands, ‘that I have come to my journey’s end!’”

The Death of Betty here occurred; as, sinking on the ground, and supporting herself against a tree “whence she could see, beyond some intervening trees and branches, the lighted windows,” her strength gave way—

“‘I am safe here,’ was her last benumbed thought. ‘When I am found dead at the foot of the Cross, it will be by some of my own sort; some of the working people who work among the lights yonder. I cannot see the lighted windows now, but they are there. I am thankful for all!’”

We have the satisfaction of reading that the poor woman’s hopes were realised, for Lizzie Hexam returning from the mill, found her lying among the trees as described, and tended her at the last, with helpful and loving hands—

“A look of thankfulness and triumph lights the worn old face. The eyes, which have been darkly fixed upon the sky, turn with meaning in them towards the compassionate face from which the tears are dropping, and a smile is on the aged lips as they ask, ‘What is your name, my dear?’ ‘My name is Lizzie Hexam.’ ‘I must be sore disfigured. Are you afraid to kiss me?’ The answer is, the ready pressure of her lips upon the cold but smiling mouth. ‘Bless ye! Now lift me, my love.’ Lizzie Hexam very softly raised the weather-stained grey head, and lifted her as high as Heaven.”

The Burial, as detailed in the following chapter, must have taken place in the little churchyard of the contiguous village of Shiplake (about three-quarters of a mile distant), the service being conducted by the Rev. Frank Milvey, and attended by the Secretary and poor Sloppy as mourners.

“A cry for help.” It may be interesting to indicate the local sequence of events on that memorable Saturday evening, when Bradley Headstone, impelled by wild resentment and furious jealousy, did his best to murder his more favoured rival, as described in chapter 6, book 4, under the above heading. It will be remembered that, on the evening in question, Eugene Wrayburn having forced an appointment with Lizzie Hexam, met her on the path by the river, when a very affecting farewell interview ensued. This interview occurring on the towpath—tolerably secluded at and after twilight—about halfway between Henley and Marsh (see Marcus Stone’s Illustration, “The Parting by the River”), Eugene strolled slowly towards his inn, while Lizzie walked sorrowfully, as a matter of course, in the opposite direction. We read that, passing Bradley Headstone (disguised as a bargeman)—

“Eugene Wrayburn went the opposite way, with his hands behind him, and his purpose in his thoughts. He passed the sheep, and passed the gate, and came within hearing of the village sounds, and came to the bridge. The inn where he stayed, like the village and the mill, was not across the river, but on that side of the stream on which he walked . . . feeling out of humour for noise or company, he crossed the bridge, and sauntered on: looking up at the stars as they seemed one by one to be kindled in the sky, and looking down at the river as the same stars seemed to be kindled deep in the water. A landing-place overshadowed by a willow, and a pleasant boat lying moored there among some stakes, caught his eye as he passed along.”

Thus it will be seen how Eugene, following the west bank of the Thames to Henley, and thereafter crossing Henley Bridge, pursued the course of his meditations past the landing-place on the opposite side, walking onwards by the towpath thence continued, in the direction of Poplar Point.

The Murderous Attack upon him by Headstone, in the darkening shades of nightfall, must have here occurred, not far from the bridge, and opposite to the town, Wrayburn being thrown into the river by his assailant, and so left for dead.

Lizzie Hexam, endeavouring to regain composure, went towards Marsh, and must have crossed by The Lock Gates to the main road beyond, turning in the direction of Henley. She thereafter walked slowly onwards in the neighbourhood of the bridge at its eastern side, and thus unconsciously came again near to, and following behind, her lover, on theEastern Tow Path beyond the bridge, as above mentioned. Hereabouts, hearing “the sound of blows, a faint groan, and a fall into the river,” she ran towards the spot from which the sounds had come—not far distant, on the riverside path, northward from the bridge. We are all familiar with the story of Lizzie’s heroic rescue of Eugene from the river. Finding a boat on the north side of Henley Bridge—

“She passed the scene of the struggle—yonder it was—on her left, well over the boat’s stern—she passed on her right the end of the village street (New Street) . . . looking as the boat drove, everywhere, everywhere for the floating face.”

Finding and recovering the body, she rowed “back against the stream,” landing at the lawn of the Red Lion Inn as previously described.

The Rambler may now take a short trip by boat down the river six miles from Henley, for visiting The Lock where Rogue Riderhood acted for a time, as deputy superintendent.

Leaving Henley, we may note, on the left, the mansion of Fawley Court, beyond which, passing Regatta Island, we arrive at Greenlands, in the occupation of the Right Hon. W. H. Smith (not unknown in political and literary circles). The house is pleasantly situated at the bend of the river. We next arrive at Hambledon Lock, two miles from Henley; thereafter reaching Aston, as we proceed down the stream to Medmenham, with its picturesque Abbey, founded in the reign of King John, standing on the north bank. Below Medmenham is Hurley Lock, which is our present destination. It is contiguous to New Lock Weir, and to the village of Hurley, situated on the right bank of the river. This is known to readers of “Our Mutual Friend” as Plashwater Weir Mill Lock, at whose gates Riderhood—whilom a “waterside character,” the partner of Gaffer Hexam—officiated as deputy lock-keeper. We are introduced to him as not very wide-awake in this capacity, in chapter 1, book 4—

“Plashwater Weir Mill Lock looked tranquil and pretty on an evening in the summer-time. A soft air stirred the leaves of the fresh green trees, and passed like a smooth shadow over the river, and like a smoother shadow over the yielding grass. The voice of the falling water, like the voices of the sea and the wind, was an outer memory to a contemplative listener; but not particularly so to Mr. Riderhood, who sat on one of the blunt wooden levers of his lock-gates, dozing.”

To this locality came Bradley Headstone, who, for sinister reasons of his own, cultivated Riderhood’s acquaintance, making The Lock House a convenient place of call, as he pursued Eugene Wrayburn in his quest, full details of which may be found in chapters 1 and 7, book 6. Here also was enacted the final scene of the tragedy, as narrated in chapter 15, book 4, when Bradley Headstone drowned himself and Riderhood in the Lock—

“Bradley had caught him round the body. He seemed to be girdled with an iron ring. They were on the brink of the Lock, about midway between the two sets of gates. . . . ‘Let go!’ said Riderhood. ‘Stop! What are you trying at? You can’t drown me. Ain’t I told you that the man as has come through drowning can never be drowned? I can’t be drowned.’ ‘I can be!’ returned Bradley, in a desperate, clenched voice. ‘I am resolved to be. I’ll hold you living, and I’ll hold you dead. Come down!’ Riderhood went over into the smooth pit, backward, and Bradley Headstone upon him. When the two were found, lying under the ooze and scum behind one of the rotting gates, Riderhood’s hold had relaxed, probably in falling, and his eyes were staring upward. But he was girdled still with Bradley’s iron ring, and the rivets of the iron ring held tight.”

By road, Hurley Lock is but four miles distant from Henley; a pedestrian, therefore, could make an easy short cut, as against a rower up the stream; hence the assurance given by the deputy lock-keeper to his impatient visitor (see book 4, chapter 1):—

“‘Ha, ha! Don’t be afeerd, T’otherest,’ said Riderhood. ‘The T’other’s got to make way agin the stream, and he takes it easy. You can soon come up with him. But wot’s the good of saying that to you! You know how fur you could have outwalked him betwixt anywheres about where he lost the tide—say Richmond—and this, if you had had a mind to it.’”

Travelling homeward on the return to London, it may be desirable to break the journey at Slough—eighteen miles from Paddington—whence may be conveniently visited the rustic village and cemetery of Stoke Pogis, about a mile and a half northward from the station. The latter contains the tomb of the poet Gray, and is the scene of his famous “Elegy in a Country Churchyard.” It may be remembered that from this well-known poem Mr. Micawber’s Quotation was taken, as an appropriate conclusion to one of his many friendly but grandiloquent epistles, confirming an important appointment. In “David Copperfield,” at the end of chapter 49, we read of Micawber’s expressed determination to unmask his “foxey” employer, and to crush “to undiscoverable atoms that transcendent and immortal hypocrite and perjurer, Heep”; and we may recall his “most secret and confidential letter,” soon afterwards received by David, as containing the following reference:—

“The duty done, and act of reparation performed, which can alone enable me to contemplate my fellow mortal, I shall be known no more. I shall simply require to be deposited in that place of universal resort, where

‘Each in his narrow cell for ever laid,
The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.’

With the plain Inscription,
Wilkins Micawber.”

So, as the evening shades prevail, “near and nearer drawn” through “the glimmering landscape,” we again approach the lights of London Town, with (it may be hoped) pleasant reminiscences of the foregoing excursions. Should the Rambler, like Mr. John Harmon on a similar occasion, be accompanied by a friend, who perchance may be “nearer and dearer than all other,” he may appropriately endorse John Harmon’s reflections as he made the same journey under blissful circumstances (see “Our Mutual Friend,” book 3, end of chapter 9)—

“O, boofer lady, fascinating boofer lady! If I were but legally executor of Johnny’s will. If I had but the right to pay your legacy and take your receipt! Something to this purpose surely mingled with the blast of the train as it cleared the stations, all knowingly shutting up their green eyes and opening their red ones when they prepared to let the boofer lady pass.”