The Warren, residence of Mr. Haredale and his niece, an old red-brick house, standing in its own grounds, was situated about a mile eastward from the Maypole, and was thence accessible by a path across the fields, from the garden exit of the inn, to its position on the border of Hainault Forest. (See final paragraph of chapter 19, “Barnaby Rudge.”) From many suggestions in the book, it occupied, in all probability, the site of _Forest House_, not a great distance from Chigwell Row; but of this no certainty exists. * * * * * CHIGWELL TO IPSWICH. It will be best to return from _Buckhurst Hill_ by rail to Stratford or Liverpool Street, in order to travel by fast main line train, to the good old town of Ipswich, our next destination. The journey—_viâ_ Chelmsford and Colchester—will occupy about two hours, during which we may recall the memorable occasion of Mr. Pickwick’s excursion per coach from the “Bull Inn,” Whitechapel, to this ancient capital of Suffolk, attended by the faithful Sam, Mr. Weller, senior, driving, and beguiling the tediousness of the way with conversation of considerable interest—“possessing the inestimable charm of blending amusement with instruction.” Full details will be found on reference to the “Pickwick Papers,” chapter 22, together with the account of Mr. P.’s introduction to his fellow-traveller, Mr. Peter Magnus, “a red-haired man, with an inquisitive nose and blue spectacles.” On arrival at the station at Ipswich, the wayfarer, crossing by bridge over the _Gipping_ river, may proceed straight onwards through _Princes Street_ (five minutes) to _Tavern Street_. Turning to the right, along this thoroughfare, he will soon see the Great White Horse Hotel, on the left side of Tavern Street. Tramcars from the station pass the hotel; also omnibus meets all trains. Telegraphic address—Pickwick, Ipswich. In the chapter before referred to is contained the following description:— “In the main street of Ipswich, on the left-hand side of the way, a short distance after you have passed through the open space fronting the Town Hall, stands an inn, known far and wide by the appellation of the Great White Horse, rendered the more conspicuous by a stone statue of some rapacious animal with flowing mane and tail, distinctly resembling an insane cart-horse, which is elevated above the principal door. The Great White Horse is famous in the neighbourhood in the same degree as a prize ox, or county paper-chronicled turnip, or unwieldy pig—for its enormous size. Never were such labyrinths of uncarpeted passages, such clusters of mouldy, ill-lighted rooms, such huge numbers of small dens for eating or sleeping in beneath one roof, as are collected together within the four walls of the Great White Horse at Ipswich.” [Picture: The “Great White Horse,” Ipswich]