Melcombe Regis
The Man Who LaughsMelcombe Regis is the port town reached by the abandoned boy as he carries an infant through the winter night, crossing from Weymouth over the bridge on the Wey. The town’s importance is set against Weymouth’s changing fortunes: once the city and port beside a smaller suburb, Melcombe Regis has become a parish within the village that grew to absorb it. In the boy’s immediate journey, however, the crossing promises only a new urban landscape; the doors remain shut, and the sleeping town offers no help.
Setting and changing fortunes
At the time of the episode, Weymouth is described as a hamlet and suburb of Melcombe Regis, which is identified as a city and port. The relation has since been reversed: Weymouth has absorbed the city, and Melcombe Regis is now one of its parishes. The narrative attributes this change to the bridge between them, treating it not as a passive structure but as a force that draws population toward one bank at the expense of the other. The town’s history is therefore condensed into a shift in scale and status: what had been the larger settlement becomes part of the smaller neighbour that outgrows it.
The boy approaches the bridge after passing through the Scrambridge lanes, where cultivated plots and thorn hedges still outnumber houses. A passage near Trinity schools leads him to the water’s edge, a roughly built quay with a parapet, and the bridge over the Wey. The Backwater joins the harbour beneath its arches. These landmarks establish Melcombe Regis as a place shaped by waterways and crossings, but the route is also practical: after finding no answer at the doors he has already tried, the boy continues toward the town rather than turning back into the lanes.
The crossing into town
The bridge is then a covered timber structure. Its roof has kept snow off the planks, giving the boy’s bare feet a brief respite as he crosses. The comfort is strictly momentary: the bridge changes what lies around him, but not the cold or the burden of carrying the infant. Once across, he has passed out of the village and into the city, a transition the narration marks as a change in kind as well as location.
The distinction is visible in the buildings. Melcombe Regis has fewer wooden houses than stone ones, and the bridge opens onto the comparatively fine St. Thomas’s Street. High carved gables and shop-fronts give the street signs of an established town and its commercial life. Yet these features do not amount to welcome. The boy knocks again, now too exhausted to call or shout. The town’s substantial buildings and urban order stand beside the helplessness of a child who can make himself heard only by tapping at closed doors.
A closed and sleeping town
Melcombe Regis appears as still as Weymouth. Its doors are double-locked and its windows shuttered; the inhabitants have taken precautions against being awakened by unwanted surprises. The boy receives no response. His movement from a hamlet to a city has therefore brought a change in architecture and civic scale without changing his isolation: in both settlements, the houses remain closed to the children outside them.
The narration enlarges this silence into an atmosphere rather than treating it as mere absence of noise. It likens the sleeping town to a paralyzed colony of ants and imagines the sleepers’ dreams mingling above their bodies into a disturbing haze. The account moves from locked doors and shutters to the unseen pressure the boy experiences as he walks among sleepers. It names this condition as fear without an apparent reason, but the scene has already supplied its human circumstances: he is exhausted, carrying an infant, and surrounded by a population that does not answer.
Narrative significance
Melcombe Regis is both a geographical threshold and a failed refuge. The bridge carries the boy into a more substantial settlement, while its covered planks briefly ease the pain of travel; neither the crossing nor the city’s stone houses changes the children’s precarious situation. The contrast between the town’s historical capacity to draw people across the river and its inhabitants’ refusal—or failure—to respond to the boy sharpens the episode’s concern with movement and indifference.
The episode also lets the town’s past and present echo the boy’s passage. The bridge once linked neighbouring settlements, but its pull helped transfer prominence until the former suburb absorbed the former city. In the immediate scene, the boy crosses the same connection in search of help and finds only more closed doors. Melcombe Regis thus gives the journey a clear physical destination while withholding the welcome that destination might seem to promise.

