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CHAPTER ONE
Mr Murdstone
I disliked Mr Murdstone the first time I met him. Perhaps
I was just jealous or perhaps it was more than that. Certainly he
was a handsome gentleman with dark hair and dark whiskers
but there was something in his eyes that made me feel uneasy.
He began to call at our house and then my mother started
putting on her prettiest dresses and going out in the evenings.
One such evening my nurse, Peggotty, suggested that I go
with her to visit her brother in Yarmouth for a fortnight. I
agreed immediately, happy at the thought of an adventure. I did
not realize how different things would be on my return.
The day of our departure soon arrived and Peggotty and I
climbed into the carrier's cart that was to take us to Yarmouth.
My mother and I kissed each other and we both cried. When
the cart started off she ran after it to ask for another kiss. As we
rode away I saw Mr Murdstone speak to her disapprovingly
and she lowered her head submissively.
I shall never forget that holiday. Peggotty's nephew, Ham,
was waiting for us when the cart set us down. He swung me on
his broad shoulders and took us to their home. The Peggottys
lived in a boat that had been taken from the water and made
into a small cosy home. For a young boy like me it was
magical. My nurse's brother, Mr Peggotty, greeted us warmly
and introduced Little Emily, his niece. Both she and Ham were
orphans. She was about my age with blue eyes and curls and I
quickly became devoted to her. When it was time for me to
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leave we were both inconsolable.
As we approached home, however, I became excited
about seeing my mother again. She was not at the gate to greet
me and Peggotty led me into the kitchen. Now I was worried.
'Where is Mama, Peggotty? What has happened? She isn't
dead, is she, like Papa?' Tears filled my eyes.
'Good gracious, no, Master Davy!' she replied shocked.
'But there is something I must tell you. You have a new pa!
Come and see him. And your mama.'
We went into the best parlour. My mother was sitting on
one side of the fireplace and Mr Murdstone sat on the other
side. As soon as she saw me, my mother smiled and hugged me
timidly.
'Now, Clara, control yourself,' Mr Murdstone said. She
kissed me avoiding looking at me under Mr Murdstone's
watchful eye. As soon as I could, I went to my room.
Miserable, I thought of how different things used to be, how
loving and affectionate my mother had been under Peggotty's
indulgent eye. I knew that happy life was over and I cried
myself to sleep.
I was awoken by my mother and Peggotty who had been
looking for me.
'Davy, what is the matter?' my mother asked. She tried to
put her arms around me but I pushed her away. 'Oh, this is your
fault, Peggotty!' she cried. 'You have turned my boy against
me!'
I heard other footsteps and Mr Murdstone entered. 'Clara,
my dear, remember yourself!'
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'Oh, it is too much!' my mother exclaimed. 'Can I not
have some peace and happiness?' Mr Murdstone calmed her
with a kiss and I saw immediately that she would do whatever
he said. 'Go downstairs while David and I talk. We'll join you
shortly,' he said with a smile. When we were alone he asked
me, 'Do you know what I do with a disobedient dog? I beat it.'
He gave me a hard look and I understood all too well. 'Now,
come downstairs and do not displease your mother or me
again.'
After dinner that evening Mr Murdstone's sister arrived.
She was dark like him, with the same stern look, but had a
large nose and thick eyebrows which almost met in the middle.
She had come to help my mother, and started the next morning
by rearranging all our store cupboards. From then on she took
control of everything. On the one occasion that my mother
asked to be consulted occasionally Mr Murdstone accused her
of being ungrateful and expressed his disappointment. It was
enough. My mother never protested again.
I resumed my lessons with my mother but these were no
longer the happy times they had been before. Mr and Miss
Murdstone were always present, always ready to criticize my
mother for her lack of firmness with me and myself for every
mistake. Mr Murdstone made me nervous and forgetful. My
mother in turn became anxious. When she thought no-one was
looking she tried to help me but was immediately rebuked by
Miss Murdstone. My poor mother suffered as much as I did, if
not more.
This continued for several months until one morning I
entered the parlour for my lessons and saw my mother looking
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more nervous than usual. Mr Murdstone was holding a cane in
his hand.
'Now, David, you must be very careful over your lessons
today,' he said. The effect was, of course, that I became
particularly forgetful and things went from worse to worse.
Finally my mother burst into tears.
'David, you and I will go upstairs,' Mr Murdstone said,
taking my arm. My mother ran after us but Miss Murdstone
stopped her. My mother's crying accompanied me up the stairs.
When we got to my room Mr Murdstone suddenly pinned my
head under his arm and raised the cane in his other hand.
'Please, sir! Don't beat me! I'll do better!'
'Really?' he replied and hit me hard. The hand holding me
was near my mouth and I bit it. He beat me then again and
again with renewed fury. I heard my mother and Peggotty
crying outside the door and then it was over. He left me and
locked the door behind him.
I was kept in my room for five days. The only person I
saw was Miss Murdstone who brought me food but never
spoke to me. On the fifth evening I heard whispering at my
door.
'Davy, my darling?' It was Peggotty.
'Oh, Peggotty!' I cried.
'Hush or they will hear us, my lovely. Listen! You are
going away to school tomorrow.'
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CHAPTER TWO
School
I left after breakfast the following morning. My mother,
her eyes red from crying, embraced me and told me to be good.
Then Miss Murdstone took me to the awaiting cart.
It was the same carrier that had taken Peggotty and
myself to Yarmouth. I cried heartily as we drove away. Then,
about half a mile from the house, Peggotty suddenly appeared
from behind a hedge and got into the cart. She hugged me
tightly, put some cakes into my pockets, and got out again, all
without saying a word. I felt a little happier after this and even
more so when I found two half-crowns wrapped in paper, sent
with my mother's love.
As the morning progressed, I shared my cakes with the
carrier and learnt that his name was Mr Barkis. He asked a few
questions about Peggotty and then asked me to give her a
message when I wrote to her.
'What message is that. Mr Barkis?' I asked.
'Tell her: Barkis is willing', he replied. I thought it a
strange message but kept the thought to myself. I very soon fell
asleep.
Mr Barkis set me down at the inn in Yarmouth where,
after some dinner, I took the stagecoach to London. We
travelled through the night and I sat pressed in between two
gentlemen. Unlike the other passengers I was unable to sleep.
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We arrived in London the next morning. Nobody was
waiting for me at the inn so the coachman left me in the
booking office. I began to think I might never be claimed and
that perhaps this was Mr Murdstone's revenge, when a thin
young man entered. His name was Mr Mell and he was a
schoolmaster at my new school.
Salem House was an unwelcoming, square brick building.
As we crossed the courtyard I remarked to Mr Mell how quiet
it was. He seemed surprised.
'Copperfield, don't you know it is the school holidays?
There are no boys here, except you.'
Mr Mell left me in the classroom for a while. It was a
soulless, dirty, long, room which smelt stale and unhealthy. I
walked up and down the rows of desks, noticing the scraps of
paper on the floor and the ink splashed liberally about.
At one end of the room I saw a beautifully written sign
lying on a desk. It said: "Be careful. He bites."
I imagined it was for a fierce dog and felt rather alarmed.
So I quickly climbed up onto the neighbouring desk and
proceeded to peer under the other desks in search of it. When
Mr Mell returned he found me like this and asked what I was
doing.
'I'm looking for the dog, sir,' I replied. He looked at me
gravely.
'I'm sorry, Copperfield,' he said, 'it's for you. I've been
instructed to make you wear it.' He helped me down from the
desk and put the sign over my head so that it hung on my back.
How mortified I was! How I suffered! I was glad there was
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nobody there to see it.
As the days and weeks passed I began to dread the end of
the holidays but it was inevitable. Preparations were made for
the boys' return and one morning it was announced that the
headmaster, Mr Creakle, would return that evening. After
supper I was summoned before him.
Mr Creakle, who was almost completely bald, had an
angry face with small eyes and nose and a large chin. He never
spoke above a whisper and, judging by the veins protruding on
his forehead, the effort cost him dearly.
'I know your step-father, boy,' he said, as I stood before
him. 'And I know something about you: you bite.' I lowered my
head and he continued: 'Let me tell you something about
myself - I'm a Tartar and very determined. I do my duty and
make sure what I want done is done. Nobody stands in my way.
Do I make myself clear?'
'Yes, sir,' I replied, trembling under his fiery gaze.
'Good. Now go,' he replied. I hurried away as quickly as
possible.
The first boy I met was Tommy Traddles. He found the
sign on my back so amusing that he immediately introduced
me to all the other boys as they arrived back. However, the
most important introduction took place in the playground and
was to a boy some six years older than myself, who was
respected and admired by all the boys in the school.
Steerforth, for this was his name, asked me why I had to
wear the sign and, hearing my story, declared it was a shame. I
became devoted to him immediately and he took me under his
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wing.
School was a sorry business. Mr Creakle was indeed a
Tartar and took great delight in using his cane. He seemed to
particularly enjoy caning the chubbier boys and a day never
passed without poor Traddles receiving a beating. The only
exception was Steerforth who Mr Creakle never raised his cane
to.
The months passed and finally the holidays came and I
went home. I was so excited to see my mother and Peggotty.
My mother was sitting in the parlour when I arrived, with a
baby in her arms. She looked thinner and more fragile than
before, although still pretty. On seeing me she got up to
embrace me.
'Davy, my boy! I'm so happy to see you! This is your little
brother,' she said showing me the baby. Peggotty came running
in then and held me to her. 'Oh, Master Davy! Let me look at
you!'
That evening was the best day of the holiday Mr and Miss
Murdstone were not at home and we three all dined together. I
told them about Mr Creakle and Steerforth and we talked and
laughed. I almost believed Mr Murdstone did not exist until we
heard the door open later on. My mother suggested I went to
bed quickly: Mr Murdstone did not approve of going to bed
late. I said goodnight and slipped out of the room.
The next morning Mr Murdstone was sitting in the
parlour. I approached fearfully and apologised for biting him.
He accepted my apology coldly but nothing changed between
us. The rest of the holidays were quite miserable. Whenever I
entered the room in the middle of a conversation, Mr
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Murdstone or his sister stopped speaking and became serious
while my mother looked anxiously from one to the other. I,
therefore, tried to remain out of the way and sat silently
through meals. This behaviour drew criticism too and if my
mother attempted weakly to defend me, she was also rebuked.
Finally, the day came to return to school. My mother
came to the gate to say goodbye. When I was sitting in the cart,
she held up the baby for me to see and stood that way as we
drove away. I did not know it but this would be my last image
of her.
Now I must relate the saddest time of my life. My
birthday was about two months after my return to school. After
breakfast, I was told to go to the parlour. I imagined that
Peggotty or my mother had sent something for me but was
conscious of something like pity in the schoolmaster's eyes.
Mr Creakle was still at the breakfast table when I arrived
but he quickly left the room. His wife sat me down beside her
and, with a sad look, took my hand.
'My poor boy sit beside me. I'm afraid I have some very
sad news: your mother has died.'
I cried long and hard while Mrs Creakle held me. The
news quickly spread through the school and I had the bitter
satisfaction of a new-found status among the boys.
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CHAPTER THREE
Everything changes
And so the worst period of my life began. I was sent
home the next day but any hope I had of finding much comfort
there was immediately dashed. Mr Murdstone ignored my
presence entirely and sat consumed by his own grief while his
sister busied herself with practical matters. I saw little of
Peggotty except at night when she sat by my bed and offered
me the only comfort I found under that roof.
The time before the funeral is confused in my memory
but I remember the day itself clearly. I can still see the best
parlour readied for mourners and later the coffin containing my
mother and baby brother as it was lowered into the ground.
That evening Peggotty came to my room. She held me
close and told me that my mother had died in her arms, her last
thoughts of me. The baby had died the following day.
The first thing Miss Murdstone did after the funeral was
over, was to give Peggotty a month's notice. Poor Peggotty was
as upset as I was at the thought of our separation.
After her departure I was almost entirely neglected. I ate
with the Murdstones when they were at home, alone when they
were not. Mr Murdstone tried to see as little of me as possible,
my presence, perhaps, irritating his conscience, and I spent
many lonely hours, weeks, months. Peggotty, now married to
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Mr Barkis, came to visit as often as she was allowed but it was
never often enough. Then, one day, Mr Murdstone decided I
should be sent to work in his business in London. I was ten
years old.
Murdstone and Grinby's warehouse was in Blackftiars, on
the waterfront. It was an old building, overrun with rats. My
job, along with four other boys was to wash, label and pack the
bottles of wine the warehouse shipped overseas. For this I
received six shillings a week. Lodgings were arranged for me
with Mr Micawber, who I was introduced to on my first day.
He was a rotund middle-aged man with a shiny bald head. His
clothes were shabby yet he had an air of kindness. Mr
Micawber lived with his wife and four children in a house
which was as shabby as he was worked from morning to night
and spent all my earnings on my breakfast and supper, which
was often an inadequate affair. I was quite miserable at work,
feeling the full shame of my situation and the divide between
myself and the other men and boys there. I had no friends, so I
became attached to the Micawber family. Mrs Micawber freely
confided all of her husband's financial problems to me and
enlisted my services in selling household possessions. Thus I
bore not only my own misery but also my worries for this kind
family.
Finally Mr Micawber's problems reached a crisis. Unable
to repay his creditors, he was arrested and taken to a debtors'
prison. Soon afterwards the family furniture was sold and Mrs
Micawber and the children moved into his cell with him. I did
not want to be separated from the only family I knew in
London so lodgings were found for me near the prison.
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After several weeks Mr Micawber was released from
prison and we were all reunited. However, he decided to leave
London and wasted very little time in preparations. We spent
their last evening together and Mr Micawber offered me some
fatherly advice.
'My dear Copperfield,' he said, 'learn from my mistakes.
Never put off until tomorrow what you can do today.' I
promised not to.
After my friends left I felt I could bear it no longer at
Murdstone and Grinby's and a plan formed in my mind. I
would run away. I remembered my mother telling me about my
father's aunt, Betsey Trotswood. Disappointed that I was a boy
and not a girl, she had severed all ties with my mother at my
birth. Despite this, I decided to find her and ask for her help.
I shall not relate my journey: how I was robbed almost
immediately of my possessions, how I walked all day and slept
in fields at night, selling my jacket and waistcoat in order to
buy food. It is enough to say that six days after I left London I
arrived, exhausted, starving and half-clothed in Dover and
began to enquire after my aunt.
I was lucky and after no more than half a day I was
following her maid along a cliff road to the pretty cottage in
which my aunt lived. There, aware of my terrible appearance,
my courage failed. Having stood outside for a while I was
intending to leave when an elderly lady came out of the
cottage. She was wearing gardening gloves and a handkerchief
over her bonnet and held a large knife in her hand.
'Go away! I'll have no boys here!' she said angrily before
turning away. I approached and, timidly touching her, said,
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'Please, ma'am. I'm your nephew, David Copperfield.'
'Good gracious!' she exclaimed, sitting down quickly. A
series of emotions passed across her face. I hurriedly told her
all my story and then burst into tears. Seeing this she took me
by the collar, led me into the cottage and lay me on the sofa.
She then instructed her maid, Janet, to ask Mr Dick to come
downstairs. Soon afterwards a grey-haired gentleman appeared.
'Mr Dick, do you remember my nephew David
Copperfield?' she asked him.
'Well, this is his son and he's run away. What should we
do?'
Mr Dick considered for a moment and then said 'Give
him a bath.' And so I was bathed, fed and, much restored, put to
bed.
The following morning I entered the parlour feeling quite
hopeful. My aunt was an austere woman but not unkind.
Perhaps she would let me stay with her.
'Good morning, David,' she said. 'I have written to your
step-father and told him to come.'
'Oh, must I go back?' I asked, my voice failing.
'I haven't decided. We shall see,' she replied. My hopes
died.
On the morning Mr Murdstone came, we were sitting in
the parlour. Aunt Betsey suddenly saw a lady on a donkey
approach the house. My aunt never allowed donkeys on the
grass and angrily shook her fist at the rider from the window.
Recognising Miss Murdstone, I quickly informed my aunt of
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the rider's identity.
'I don't care!' she cried and ran outside, shaking her fist
again. Mr Murdstone was walking up behind his sister. They
both looked at my aunt in surprise.
She ignored them and chased away the boy leading the
donkey. Then she marched back into the house and waited for
Janet to announce the visitors.
'Miss Trotswood,' said Mr Murdstone on entering, 'I have
come to take this ungrateful boy back.'
'Really? David, are you ready to leave?' my aunt asked
me.
'No! They never liked me and made Mama unhappy about
me too! Please don't send me back with them! I was so
miserable!' I exclaimed.
'This is ridiculous!' said Miss Murdstone indignantly.
'I wonder, would you treat your own son like this and
send him to work?' my aunt asked Mr Murdstone.
'I can do what I like with the boy. I must warn you, Miss
Trotswood, if you decide to keep him I shall close my door to
him forever,' Mr Murdstone said sternly.
'So be it! I shall take my chances with him. Good day to
you both,' my aunt replied coldly. 'Janet, show them out!'
Furious, the Murdstones marched out of the house and
out of my life.
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CHAPTER FOUR
A new life
My life now took a happy turn. I became good friends
with Mr Dick and my aunt, who called me Trot, grew very fond
of me. She decided to seek the advice of a certain Mr
Wickfield, her lawyer, regarding a suitable school for me in
Canterbury. I accompanied her to his house. When we arrived a
pale youth of about fifteen opened the door to us. He had
extremely short red hair, no eyebrows or eyelashes and was
bony and ill-proportioned with skeleton-like hands. His name
was Uriah Heep.
'Uriah, is Mr Wickfield at home?' my aunt asked. He
showed us into the study. Mr Wickfield soon arrived. He was
an affable gentleman with white hair and a complexion which
suggested a little too much port. He was able not only to
recommend a school but to offer me lodgings in his house.
Then he introduced me to his daughter, Agnes. She was about
my age with a gentle face and such a calm spirit that I have
never forgotten. I knew immediately that we would be friends.
So time passed. I attended Doctor Strong's school. It
would be impossible to find someone more different from Mr
Creakle: Doctor Strong was one of the kindest, gentlest men I
have ever known and my schooldays there were happy ones. I
was also happy living in Mr Wickfield's house and grew close
to Agnes, coming to consider her as a sister. The only person I
did not like there was Uriah Heep. I had disliked him
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instinctively on first meeting him and the years did nothing to
change this. He continually referred to himself as 'a humble
person' and had snakelike movements and ingratiating ways
which repulsed me.
Finally, the time came for me to leave school and take my
place in the world. I was seventeen. At my aunt's suggestion, I
took some time to think about what I wanted to do next, and
decided to visit my dear old nurse, Peggotty. I took the
stagecoach to London, stopping for the night at an inn there. As
I sat near the fire, a handsome, well-dressed, young man
entered the room. It was Steerforth!
'Steerforth! Don't you recognise me?' I asked,
approaching him, hand outstretched. He looked at me hard and
then I saw recognition light up his face.
'Why it is Copperfield!' he exclaimed, shaking my hand
heartily.
'I'm so glad to see you!' I said, tears coming to my eyes.
We sat and talked. He was on his way from Oxford University
to see his mother and suggested I went with him. I agreed
happily and we set off the next morning.
I spent a delightful week with them during which
Steerforth taught me to ride. When I finally made up my mind
to continue my journey, Steerforth decided to accompany me.
And so, we travelled to Yarmouth together. When Peggotty
recognised me, joy spread across her face and we fell into each
other's arms.
Steertorth charmed Peggotty with his easy ways and
affection for me. That evening, we all went to Mr Peggotty's
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little boat and knocked on the door. We could hear the sound of
laughing and celebrating coming from inside.
'Look who is with me, brother?' Peggotty said, indicating
myself.
'Why, Master Copperfield!' Mr Peggotty exclaimed,
shaking my hand and then Steerforth's.
'What are you celebrating, if I might ask?' I enquired,
looking round the room at everyone.
'Such good news! My Emily is to marry Ham!' Mr
Peggotty said happily taking Emily's hand in his. She blushed
prettily. What a beauty she had become! Ham stood grinning
with pride.
'Well! Congratulations!' I said, shaking his hand and
smiling at Emily.
We spent a happy evening. Steerforth entertained
everyone with stories of the sea. Emily sat in a corner but
observed and listened to everything. When we left her blue
eyes followed Steerforth.
We remained in Yarmouth for a fortnight although not
always together. I enjoyed wandering on my own and went to
visit my childhood home. Sadly, I found the windows closed up
and the garden overgrown. Steerforth spent a great deal of time
with Mr Peggotty, sailing. At last, a letter arrived from my aunt,
reminding me of my purpose and inviting me to join her in
London.
It was decided: I would become a proctor. My aunt found
me a position as a clerk with 'Spenlow and Jorkins' and we
found lodgings nearby. Imagine my delight when I met
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Traddles again in London, lodging with my old friend Mr
Micawber!
After a trial period, I was articled. Mr Spenlow invited
me to his house, Norwood, for the weekend. When we arrived,
he immediately called for his daughter. We entered a room and
there she was. Dora Spenlow! I fell in love instantly.
Later, we walked in the garden together. She wore a straw
hat and, had such blue eyes and curls! A little black dog, Jip,
was by her side. We made idle conversation and walked
together to the greenhouse. There, she stopped to admire the
geraniums and, laughing charmingly, held Jip in her arms. I
followed her from flower to flower, her slave.
Dora became my life. I thought of her constantly and
walked along the road to Norwood so many times hoping to
see her that I soon became well- known there.
I saw Steerforth occasionally when he came up to
London. On one such occasion he brought me news from
Yarmouth. Mr Barkis, Peggotty's husband, was dying. I
resolved to go to Peggotty and obtained permission from Mr
Spenlow.
In the days following Mr Barkis's death, I helped settle
his affairs for Peggotty and then stayed for the funeral. That
evening we were all to meet at Mr Peggotty's house but Ham
and Emily did not arrive. After a while, I went outside and saw
Ham there, his head in his hands.
'Ham, what is the matter?' I asked. He looked at me with
dead eyes.
'How can I tell him, Master Davy? How can I tell him that
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Emily has run away?' he exclaimed.
'Run away? Where to? Who with?' I asked. I looked at
Ham's face and knew. Steerforth.
You may well imagine the misery that I witnessed that
evening and the feeling of loss greater than death that fell upon
the house. Mr Peggotty resolved to find Emily and never rest
until he did.
My sadness at the Peggotty's troubles weighed heavily
upon me and was lightened only by an invitation to Dora's
birthday party. It was a picnic in the countryside. A young man
with red whiskers claimed Dora's attention and in a state of
jealousy, I flirted with the nearest girl I could find. I was
miserable all afternoon. I was planning to leave when Dora
approached with a friend.
'Mr Copperfield you are unhappy. Dora so are you,' the
wise friend said. 'Stop this silliness now before it is too late.'
Without thinking I took Dora's hand and kissed it and she let
me. I offered her my arm and we walked together. I do not
know where. What joy!
The next day I determined to declare myself. Alone with
Dora I told her how happy I had been with her the day before.
When she doubted it, I took her in my arms and told her that I
worshipped her. Jip barked and growled but I did not stop. I
told her I could not live without her. She cried and I held her
more tightly. Soon we were engaged.
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CHAPTER FIVE
Dora
Apart from Agnes, to whom I wrote immediately, and
Dora's wise friend, Miss Mills, who she was staying with, we
told no-one of our engagement. We met when we could and
exchanged letters daily. We were so happy and in love!
However, this carefree existence did not last long. A
series of events tested our love. The first was the discovery that
my aunt was ruined. I found her, and Mr Dick, sitting outside
my rooms one day. This news was a terrible shock and I
confess my thoughts were not only for my aunt. I was poor
now too and not the same man Dora had given her heart to.
My aunt stayed with me and we found accommodation
for Mr Dick. I immediately spoke to Mr Spenlow about my
circumstances but he was unwilling to release me from my
articles. Consequently I determined to find additional work to
support myself. I was lucky. My old teacher, Mr Strong, needed
a secretary and we arranged that I should work for him for a
couple of hours in the mornings and evenings.
The following Sunday I went to confess everything to
Dora.
'My darling, could you love a poor man?' I asked, kissing
her hand.
'Don't be so silly, Doady,' she replied, calling me by her
pet name for me. 'I shall make Jip bite you if you don't stop!'
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When she realized I was serious she began to cry. I comforted
her and promised to work hard and make everything right.
'Don't talk about hard work,' she said. She was terrified
by the idea and more so when I suggested she learn something
of how to keep house and cook. She trembled and cried. I
resolved not to worry Dora again with such matters.
The second and third events came together. Mr Spenlow
discovered our relationship and threatened to change his will if
I refused to give Dora up. He gave me a week to consider. That
same night he set out for home but died on the way. Dora was
distraught at her father's death and refused to see me. In fact
there was no will, but there were debts and Dora was sent to
live with two old aunts.
I was very depressed by my separation from Dora and,
seeing me in this state, my aunt sent me to Dover to check on
her cottage and its new tenant. I stopped in Canterbury on the
way back to visit Agnes. Mr Micawber was now working for
Heep. He opened the door to me. We talked for a while before
Agnes arrived. I confided all my problems to her and felt peace
in doing so. She was always so kind and tender. She advised
writing to Dora's aunts, telling them everything and asking for
permission to visit from time to time. I immediately saw the
wisdom of her words and resolved to write that day.
Uriah and his mother now lived in the house and so were
present at dinner. I was conscious of them both watching Agnes
and me throughout the evening. They seemed like a pair of evil
bats to me. The mother was constantly present the next day too
until, unable to bear her presence any longer, I went for a walk
to escape. I soon heard footsteps behind me. It was Uriah.
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'Why do you and your mother keep watching Miss
Wickfield and I?' I asked him.
'You are a dangerous rival, Mr Copperfield,' he replied.
'Rival? Do you think I consider Miss Wickfield other than
a sister?'
'Perhaps, perhaps not,' he said, 'but you must know, I hope
to make her mine one day.'
'She is as far above you as the moon,' I said with feeling.
He smiled slyly.
That evening after dinner Mr Wickfield, Uriah and I were
alone. Uriah encouraged Mr Wickfield to drink and proposed a
toast to Agnes.
'Ah, Mr Wickfield, to be her husband....' I heard a terrible
cry from Mr Wickfield.
'Oh, this is torture!' he exclaimed. 'Is it not enough that I
have let him into my business and my house? That I have lost
my good name and reputation? No, he wants my daughter too!
It is too much.'
'Be careful what you say! Remember I know things, Mr
Wickfield,' Uriah said menacingly. Agnes arrived then.
'Papa, what is wrong?' she asked. 'Come, let me help you
to bed,' she said, then looked at myself and Uriah.
I left Uriah there too and went upstairs. I was greatly
troubled by what I had seen. Agnes came to me later. Her eyes
were red from crying but she smiled.
'Agnes, promise me you will not think of sacrificing
yourself to Uriah.' She smiled sadly and left me. I left the next
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morning full of concern.
The letter I wrote to Dora's aunts on Agnes's advice bore
fruit. I was invited to call. The aunts had considered my letter
carefully and would allow me to visit every Sunday and twice
during the week. I agreed immediately. Dora came in then.
How happy I was to see her and how she cried!
Let me turn my recollections to a later date. I am twenty-
one and Dora and I are married. Among my other occupations I
have begun writing and Dora is never happier than when she
sits next to me in the evenings, a supply of pens in her hand.
She feels she is helping me and I indulge her, loving to see her
so happy. I remember it all so well!
We had a little house in Highgate but Dora proved
incapable of mastering accounts or cookery. One evening after
a disastrous dinner she sat on my knee with her arms wrapped
around my neck.
'Doady, I'm so sorry. Will you do something for me? Will
you think of me as your 'child-wife'? Then, when I do
something wrong, perhaps you will forgive me more easily,'
she said, earnestly.
'My child-wife,' I said, holding her close. I was rewarded
by her beautiful laugh. I never forgot this heartfelt appeal and,
although I sometimes wished she were more practical, I learned
to accept her as she was and always loved her dearly.
In our second year of marriage Dora fell ill. We thought
she would soon be her old self again but it was not to be. She
spent more and more time resting on the sofa during the day
and I carried her tenderly to bed in the evenings.
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News came of Emily. She had been found! Mr Peggotty
thought it would be best for her to start a new life far away and
decided to emigrate with her to Australia. He asked me to
accompany him to Yarmouth to tell everyone and, leaving Dora
in my aunt's care, I agreed. I did not feel I should be present
when he told Ham so I left him to break the news. Later I saw
Ham standing alone looking out to sea. We talked briefly but
never directly about Emily. Feeling he wanted to ask me
something I went to look for him the next day.
'May I ask you something, Master Copperfield? Should I
see her before she leaves?' he asked me.
'No, I don't think so. I think it would be too hard for her,' I
replied. 'If you want to tell her something, I could write a letter
for you, Ham,' I offered.
'Thank you. You are a gentleman and so much better with
words than I am. I don't think I can forgive her or forget her but
I don't want to weigh heavy on her heart. Tell her that I'm fine.
Not that I shall ever marry or anything, but I'm fine,' he said.
Poor, honest Ham! I promised to write for him.
Mr Peggotty emptied his little home the next day and
packed the few things he wanted to take away and we travelled
back to London together.
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CHAPTER SIX
Endings and beginnings
I shall now relate how Uriah Heep was exposed for the
villain he was but, to do so, I must first go back a little in time.
Shortly before Emily was found I received a mysterious letter
from Mr Micawber: he was coming to London and wished to
meet with me and Traddles. We waited for him at the appointed
time and found him to be quite agitated. Wanting to get to the
bottom of things, I invited him to come to Highgate with me,
where I would introduce him to my aunt. He accepted.
My aunt and Mr Dick welcomed him warmly. He was
moved by their hospitality but was clearly upset about
something.
'Mr Micawber, you are among friends here. Won't you tell
us what is wrong?' I asked him.
'What is wrong? Heep, that is what is wrong! He is a
villain! When I think of poor Miss Wickfield, so good, so
loving and her poor father...' Here he became extremely
agitated. 'I shall not rest until I have exposed him. You must all
come to Canterbury - one week from now.' He left us then
abruptly, too upset to continue.
The next day a letter arrived repeating his request and
giving us instructions. When the time came, my aunt and I
were reluctant to leave Dora but she coaxed us prettily, saying
she was not so very ill. Not wanting to alarm her with our
concerns for her health, we agreed to go.
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So, as instructed, we went to Canterbury and called at the
agreed time to see Agnes. Mr Micawber opened the door to us,
pretending to be surprised. Uriah certainly was. Agnes soon
arrived. Uriah then instructed Mr Micawber to leave on some
business but my old friend refused. Irritated, Uriah called him a
scoundrel and threatened to dismiss him but still Mr Micawber
stayed.
'The only scoundrel here is you, Heep! ' Micawber
declared. Uriah looked at us all, surprised and then suspicious.
Ah, this is a conspiracy, is it? Well, Copperfield you
always were jealous of my rise. Miss Wickfield, if you love
your father, do not join in this plot. Miss Trotwood too, if you
know what is best for you,' Uriah said, dropping all pretence of
humility.
The change in him was astonishing. With his mask off, all
his hatred and malice were apparent. He seemed to grow in
height like an evil genie and I readily imagined him towering
over poor Agnes and her father, frightening them into
submission. Or, as he had threatened, turning his attention to
my aunt. He was dangerous like a cornered wild animal.
Unafraid, Mr Micawber took a burnt pocket- book from
his pocket.
'My wife found this in the fire when we moved into your
house, Heep. Do you recognise it?' Uriah tried to snatch it but
Mr Micawber was too quick. Addressing us he explained, it
contains proof of fraud and treachery carried out over a number
of years. You see, Heep falsely obtained Mr Wickfield's
signature on important documents and has held him in his
power ever since. First he obliged him to make him a partner.
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Then he systematically forged Mr Wickfield's signature on
accounts and documents. Poor Mr Wickfield lost his reputation
with his clients and investors and just recently, believing
himself bankrupt, signed a document giving all of the business
to Heep. I have it here.' Uriah did not speak. Agnes cried
quietly, thinking of how her poor father had suffered. My aunt's
reaction was quite different.
'So, you are responsible for ruining me!' she declared
furiously, trying to take hold of Uriah.
'It is quite clear what must be done,' Traddles said. 'We
must destroy the document giving Heep the business. Then,
Heep, you must repay every penny you have stolen. If you
don't, we can arrange for you to spend some time in prison.'
I still remember the look of defeat and hatred on Uriah
Heep's face.
My darling Dora grew worse. She no longer left her bed
and my aunt and I spent many hours sitting with her. Yet she
was always so happy and loving, never complaining.
Time rolls back and I can see it all so clearly. It is night
and I am sitting by her bed holding her hand in mine.
'Doady, I think I was too young and inexperienced to be a
wife.'
'Don't say such things, my darling,' I say, laying my face
on her pillow.
'No, Doady, it is true. We are happy now but I am sure as
time goes on you will want more from your companion, more
than a foolish child-wife. It is better this way.'
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'Oh, Dora don't!' I cry and she comforts me.
'Hush my sweet boy,' she whispers. 'Doady, I would like
to talk to Agnes. Can you send her to me?' I leave reluctantly to
fetch Agnes, who is downstairs with my aunt.
I sit by the fire while Agnes is with Dora. Jip, old now, is
near me. My thoughts turn to Dora's words and I feel full of
remorse for ever wishing her different. I sit like this for I do not
know how long. Then Jip looks towards the stairs, whines once
and dies. Agnes comes down soon after, tears running down her
face. My Dora is gone.
My grief was frozen for a time, waiting to explode fully. I
do not know how but it was decided that I should travel abroad
for a period. Preparations were made. The time was nearing for
Mr Peggotty and Emily to depart too. Mr Peggotty showed me
a letter from Emily to Ham and I offered to take it to him
before they left.
So, once again, I went to Yarmouth. There was a terrible
storm coming. I could not find Ham and, worried, returned to
the inn. Later, I was woken by voices calling out that a ship
was going down so, along with others, I hurried to the beach.
The broken ship was hit by wave after wave. We watched
helplessly as men disappeared under the sea. Then I saw Ham
and I understood his intention immediately. I tried to stop him
but he pushed me aside gently saying,
'If it is my time then so be it, Master Copperfield.'
With ropes around his waist, he went into the water. Only
one man remained on the ship now, clinging to a mast. He
waved his red cap in a gesture I thought familiar. Ham almost
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reached him but an enormous wave hit the ship then. The
seamen pulled on the ropes and brought Ham back to shore. He
was dead. Poor honest Ham! I remained with him until a
fisherman asked me to follow him.
'Is there another body?' I asked. He did not reply but
walked to the shore. There, lying as he used to at school, was
my old friend Steerforth.
We carried his body to the inn and, in a dream-like state, I
travelled to break the news to Mrs Steerforth and then directly
on to London. I was determined to keep the news of Ham's
death from Mr Peggotty and let them leave happy.
Consequently I assured him that Ham had received the letter
and his thoughts were with his uncle and Emily. Mr Peggotty
boarded the ship. As he waved goodbye from the deck I saw
Emily appear next to him and, placing her head on his
shoulder, she waved too.
I travelled abroad from place to place, the burden of my
grief growing heavier and heavier. I mourned my pretty Dora,
my old friend and kind-hearted Ham. At times I wanted only to
die and end my sorrow. Then a letter from Agnes arrived. Her
gentle confidence in me gave me heart and I slowly started to
mend and to write.
My feelings for Agnes began to change, or rather, I
understood them better. I realized I loved her and had always
done so.
I returned to England three years later and went to my
aunt's house in Dover. We had an emotional reunion. Talking, I
asked her if Agnes had a lover. My aunt thought there was
someone. I was not surprised and I resolved to hide my true
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feelings from Agnes, and this I did in all my visits.
It was Christmas. I had understood from my aunt that
Agnes would soon marry.
'Agnes, my sister, do you not trust me with your secret?' I
asked her. 'Do you think I cannot be happy for you in your
marriage?' Agnes became upset and started to cry. Her look
gave me hope. 'If I thought you could ever love me as more
than a brother... you must know I love you.'
'Oh, Trotwood. I have always loved you!' she said
through her tears. As I held her close, I fancied I saw Dora
smiling at us happily, giving us her blessing. We were married
two weeks later.

- THE END -
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