Biography - The Personal History of Charles Dickens Let's Write Non-Fiction

"This is him, Fagin," said Jack Dawkins.

"My friend, Oliver Twist."

-Good evening, Mr Forster.

-Hello, Polly.

"Oliver did as he was told,

"and then he was lifted up onto one of the sacks

"where he fell...

"into a deep...sleep."

Don't stop on my account, Charles.

'Night, 'night.

I've lost count how many times I've read it to them.

It's a wonderful story.

There's no other novel that has a child as its main character.

Perhaps you should write another.

I've been planning it.

-Well, that's wonderful, Charles.

-But I haven't written a word yet.

I have a few ideas and characters in mind but...

it's like a stubborn child...

who refuses to talk to me.

Maybe you should work on something else for a while.

What about this autobiography you've been thinking of writing?

You've written it.

-Up to my childhood.

-That's fine.

We'll publish in monthly instalments like your novels.

No, John, it's for you to keep under lock and key. I never want it to see light of day.

I don't understand, Charles.

It contains something that I've never spoken of...

..something that I've kept secret.

I've never told anyone, not even my wife or children.

I can see, whatever it is,

it still causes you a lot of pain.

But there must be some happy memories in here.

Yes, there are. When we lived in Chatham.

'I was a sickly child and so I couldn't play outside much.

'My father kept a small collection of books in a little room upstairs.

'From that special place, Gulliver, Robinson Crusoe, Aladdin

'and Sinbad the Sailor came out to keep me company.'

I am Sinbad. I have come for the treasure.

Agh!

Charles, can't you play outside?

I will slice off your ears.

Charles, I thought you were ill.

How is Frances supposed to practise with all this noise?

Charles, grab your coat.

We're going for a walk.

'More than anything, I loved the walks with my father.'

I'm not sure whether to work for the Navy like you or be an actor.

-Maybe I'll be a singer on stage and Frances could play the piano.

-Let us just stop...

Charles, just for a minute, and...

well...

admire the view...

for a minute.

I imagine a famous person lives in this house.

Wealth and fame...

are not necessarily linked, Charles.

If you work very hard, Charles...

..you could live in that house.

'I understood that was his way of saying he was proud of me.

'I hoped that one day I would achieve the great expectations he had for me.

'The walks came to an end some weeks later when my father was posted to London.

'The countryside and all my hopes were to vanish like a dream.'

Well...

..I'm sure it's very pleasant inside.

'My father had taken a pay cut from the Navy

'and so we were forced to take in a lodger,

'James Lambert.'

-Good morning, John.

-Ah, yes, good morning, James.

-Charles will clean those for you, James.

-Thank you, Mrs Dickens.

Plenty of blacking, Charles.

WHISPERS: I thought you had paid this.

I can't be expected to do everything, Elizabeth.

Can't you...?

Can't you see your brother?

We already owe him £200.

Bye, everyone.

When am I going back to school?

Not now, Charles, please!

Well...

something will turn up.

Perhaps there'll be another war

and the Navy will see me back to Chatham.

Mrs Dickens...

I have to move out at the end of the week and it's only fair that I pay you up to the end of the month.

No, James, I won't hear of it.

But I shan't fight you. I know how insistent you can be.

We will be so sad to lose you, James. ..Won't we, Charles?

'One day drifted into another. A year passed by.

'I would have given anything to have been sent to a school or taught something anywhere.'

One sixpenny loaf, please.

Sixpence, please, young gentleman.

It's for...Dickens.

-Number 16.

-That makes six months owing now, Number 16.

MUSIC: "Moonlight Sonata" by Beethoven

LOUD SCREAM

Frances has gained a place at the Royal Academy of Music!

-Oh!

-"Dear Miss Dickens,

"We are pleased to invite you to become a pupil at the Royal Academy."

The Royal Academy!

My dear!

"..At £32 a year..."

Well, we shall find it somehow.

-Something will turn up.

-Oh!

-Oh!

'I felt a stab in the heart

'as once again my hopes of going to school were crushed.

'I would have been completely miserable but for the old books.

'I read them over and over.'

Dickens!

You ain't left the house yet.

You owe me £40.

Come on, pay us. Do you hear?

Swindlers!

Robbers!

He's gone.

I can't live like this.

-We must do something.

-Yes, my dear.

-You're quite right. We must do something.

-I have an idea.

People working in the East Indies send their children home to be educated.

So we will set up a school

so that they may be educated here in London.

A brilliant idea.

-We shall grow rich by it.

-Every day the sun rises

and brings the promise of hope.

Perhaps I might go to school.

Well, indeed, you shall, Charles.

Indeed, you shall.

'We moved to a house costing double the rent of the previous residence.

'I posted hundreds of circulars

'promoting the merits of my mother's school.

'Yet nobody came and nobody planned to come.

'The only visitors I ever saw or heard of were creditors.'

Take these to the pawnbroker's.

They are solid silver. A wedding gift from my dear parents.

'Rather than give up hope for the school,

'my mother began to sell off the contents of the house.'

Ah, Charles! Look who's paid us a visit.

Happy birthday, Charles.

-Thank you, Mr Lambert.

-Oh, please, call me James.

You must be 12 now.

-Yes.

-James has been made chief manager of Warren's boot blacking factory.

And...

he's offered you a position there

working in the counting house.

You are to be paid six shillings a week. ..A most generous offer.

-What about school?

-Ah! James has kindly offered to give up his dinner time to teach you.

Just think, Charles, six shillings a week!

'I'll never forget the look on my parents' faces.

'It was as if I was 20 and was heading off to Cambridge University.'

Charles, welcome to the world of business.

This will be your work area.

Now, are you good with your hands, Charles?

-I think so.

-Excellent.

Your job will be to prepare the goods for sale.

One of the more experienced workers...will explain the task.

Name's Fagin. Bob Fagin.

Charles Dickens. Pleased to meet you.

Proper little gentleman, ain't you?

The guv'nor's asked me to show you what we do downstairs.

You cover the pots of paste blacking...

first with a piece of blue paper,

then with a piece of brown paper.

You tie it around with a bit of string until it looks smart

-as a pot of lady's ointment.

-Agh!

Here, you're lucky. There's an army of them in the cellar.

Dinner's at twelve.

We usually go down by the river and mess about on the coal barges.

I can't. James is going to teach me then.

Am I to have a lesson today, James?

Let's start next week, shall we?

Perhaps it's best if you work with the others downstairs.

Let me introduce you two. This is Poll.

P-O-L-L. Cos that's how his father spelt Paul!

..And this is the little gentleman.

Master Chickens.

Oi, Chickens...

how comes you work here, then?

Are you an orphan?

No.

Well, your parents must really hate you.

'I worked from eight in the morning

'till six o'clock at night from Monday to Saturday

'for six shillings.'

SOBBING

The baker has called in his debt.

Your father has been taken to prison.

Charles.

My dear boy.

I believe the sun has set upon me for ever.

Take warning by my fate, Charles,

and observe...

..if a man has £20 a year...

and spends...

..£19...

19 shillings...

and sixpence...

he is happy.

Oh, but if he spends £20 one shilling...

..he is miserable.

Unfortunately, I have never taken that advice.

'I really thought my father's heart was broken.

'And mine too.'

The guv'nor wants to see you upstairs.

Ah, Charles.

There's nothing left to sell in the house. I'm handing back the key.

-The children and myself will move into prison with your father.

-And I'll be coming too.

No, Charles. I have secured lodgings for you with a Mrs Roylance

to enable you to work here.

BABY CRIES

Now, I don't want any noise.

You make your own meals and you clean up your own mess.

I lock the door at ten o'clock and if you aren't in by then, tough!

Are you listening?

If you wet the bed, you're out on the street.

'I lived only for Sundays when I met with Frances

'and we joined the rest of my family for dinner.'

I shall leave the Academy and come and stay with you here.

Don't be foolish, Frances.

One doesn't just leave the Royal Academy of Music!

You must fly the flag for the Dickens family, Frances.

It would be a great tragedy if your talent was wasted.

We shall not be here for ever.

Something will turn up.

'And something DID turn up.

'My grandmother died and left my father enough to pay off his debts.

'My family were released after six months' incarceration

'and came to join me at Mrs Roylance's.

'I continued working in the blacking factory,

'fully expecting to end up like Bob Fagin.'

Your father has written a strong letter to me, Charles, complaining about your work conditions.

I am running a business, not a charity.

I'm sorry, Charles, but you'll have to leave.

'No sooner had I arrived home than my mother set about resolving

'the difference between James Lambert and my father.

'She brought home a request for me to return the next day.'

Charles!

I think it's time you started school.

'I never shall forget...

'..I never can forget that my mother was keen for my return to that factory.'

My parents refused to discuss that time, as though it never happened.

The secret's so old it's grown to be part of me...

impossible to let go of.

Until now.

"To begin my life, I record that I was born on a Friday

"at twelve o'clock at night.

"It was remarked that as the clock began to strike, I began to cry."

-Charles, where are you taking me?

-To show you the house I've just bought.

-So, what did you think of David Copperfield?

-I loved it.

I was surprised by how much of it I recognised.

It's an ingenious mixture of truth and fiction.

'Charles Dickens lived in Gad's Hill for the remainder of his life

'and wrote many more novels, including Great Expectations.

'When Dickens was asked for his favourite novel,

'he replied, "David Copperfield."

'In 1871, a year after he died,

'I wrote and published his biography.'

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