Edward Bulwer Lytton Dickens: The Sad, True Story of the Son Charles Dickens Sent Away

Charles Dickens was a man who preached the sanctity of the hearth and home, yet his own family life was, frankly, a train wreck. He had ten children. Most people can name maybe one or two, if they’re literature buffs. But the youngest, Edward Bulwer Lytton Dickens, known to his family as "Plorn," has a story that feels more like a tragic Victorian novel than the festive cheer of A Christmas Carol.

Plorn didn’t get the cozy London life. He didn't get to inherit the literary throne. Instead, at the tender age of sixteen, his father essentially shipped him off to the Australian outback. It wasn't a vacation. It was a permanent "goodbye" designed to get a struggling, unacademic son out of the way.

Why Charles Dickens Sent "Plorn" to Australia

You’ve gotta wonder what Charles Dickens was thinking. By 1868, the famous author was exhausted. He was separated from his wife, Catherine, and he was increasingly frustrated by his sons. He felt they lacked "dash" and "application." Basically, he thought they were lazy. Edward Bulwer Lytton Dickens was the baby of the family, born in 1852 and named after Dickens’s friend and fellow novelist, Edward Bulwer-Lytton (the guy who wrote "it was a dark and stormy night").

Plorn was his father's favorite when he was little. Dickens called him "the noble Plorn" and "the luckiest of all the kids." But as the boy grew up, he struggled in school. He wasn't a scholar. He wasn't a businessman. To a high-achiever like Charles, this was a disaster.

Australia was seen as a "sink or swim" destination for the surplus sons of the British upper-middle class. If you couldn't make it in London, you were sent to the colonies to become a "remittance man." Dickens had already sent his son Alfred to Australia three years earlier. In September 1868, it was Edward's turn.

It's actually heartbreaking to read Dickens's letters from this time. He wrote to friends about how much it pained him to see Plorn go, yet he was the one forcing the issue. He gave the boy a Bible and a list of instructions, then watched him sail away from Plymouth on the Somersetshire. They never saw each other again.

Life on the Edge: Edward Bulwer Lytton Dickens in the Outback

Imagine being sixteen years old. You’ve grown up in a house full of servants, famous writers, and London comforts. Suddenly, you’re dropped into the dusty, brutal heat of New South Wales. Edward Bulwer Lytton Dickens landed at a place called Momba Station.

It was massive. It was isolated. We’re talking about a sheep station that covered over a million acres. Plorn started at the bottom as a "jackaroo"—basically an apprentice station hand. He had to learn how to shear sheep, manage rough laborers, and survive in a landscape that wanted to kill him.

He wasn't naturally suited for it. He was shy. He had a bit of a stutter. But he stayed. Unlike some of his brothers who struggled with debt or health, Edward tried to make a go of it. He eventually became the manager of Momba Station. He lived in the dust while his father's books were being read in velvet-draped parlors back in England.

The Political Career You Didn't Know About

Here’s where it gets interesting. Plorn didn't just stay a sheep farmer. He actually got into politics. In 1889, Edward Bulwer Lytton Dickens was elected to the New South Wales Legislative Assembly for the seat of Wilcannia.

He wasn't a powerhouse orator. Honestly, he struggled with public speaking. But he was well-liked. He was seen as a "gentleman" in a very rough-and-tumble political environment. He served until 1894. It’s a bit ironic, isn't it? The son Charles Dickens thought was a failure ended up helping to run a territory that would eventually become part of a new nation.

However, the "Dickens luck" didn't last. The 1890s brought a devastating drought to Australia. The sheep died. The money dried up. Plorn lost his seat in Parliament and his financial stability. He ended up taking a job as a rabbit inspector for the Department of Lands. It was a massive step down. He spent his final years struggling with debt, much like his grandfather, John Dickens—the man who inspired the character of Mr. Micawber.

The Shadow of the Famous Father

Living as a Dickens in Australia was a double-edged sword. On one hand, the name got him in the door. People wanted to meet the son of the great Boz. On the other hand, the expectations were crushing. People expected him to be witty, brilliant, and wealthy. He was mostly just tired and broke.

He rarely spoke about his father in public. When he did, it was with a mix of reverence and perhaps a bit of lingering hurt. He once gave a lecture on his father's works, but witnesses said it felt stiff and formal. You have to wonder if he ever truly forgave Charles for the "exile."

When Charles Dickens died in 1870, just two years after Edward arrived in Australia, Plorn was devastated. He didn't have the money to go home for the funeral. He stayed in the bush, reading about his father's death in newspapers that were months old.

What Most People Get Wrong About Plorn

There’s this idea that Plorn was a "lost soul" or a total failure. That’s not quite fair.

He survived thirty-four years in the Australian outback during one of its harshest eras. He served in the government. He married a local woman, Constance Desailly, though they never had children. He was a man of integrity. His failures were mostly financial and were shared by almost everyone in the region at the time.

The real tragedy isn't that he "failed." It's that he was a victim of a Victorian social system that exported its "problems" rather than dealing with them. Charles Dickens wrote about the poor and the marginalized with incredible empathy, but when it came to his own flesh and blood, he could be remarkably cold.

The Final Years in Moree

By the turn of the century, Edward Bulwer Lytton Dickens was in poor health. He moved to Moree, New South Wales. He was still working, still trying to keep his head above water.

He died in January 1902, at the age of 49. He’s buried in the Moree cemetery. If you go there today, you’ll see a headstone that mentions he was the son of the great novelist. It’s a quiet, lonely spot, thousands of miles away from the Poets' Corner in Westminster Abbey where his father lies.

It’s a stark contrast. One man is buried in the heart of the Empire, surrounded by kings and queens. The other is buried in the red dirt of the plains.

Lessons from the Life of Edward Dickens

Looking back at Plorn’s life, there are a few things that really stand out. First, family reputation is a heavy burden. Second, the Victorian "success" metrics were incredibly narrow. If you weren't a genius or a tycoon, you were "disappointing."

If you’re interested in exploring this further, don't just read the biographies of Charles. Look into the letters Charles wrote to his sons in Australia. They reveal a man who was obsessed with "character" but perhaps lacked the patience to let his children find their own path.

Actionable Insights for History Buffs:

📖 Related: The Greg O'Shea Reality Check: Why the Love Island Winner Didn't Follow the Influencer Blueprint

• Visit Moree: If you ever find yourself in New South Wales, the Moree cemetery is a pilgrimage site for Dickens fans. It's a reminder of the global reach of the Victorian era.
• Read "The Last Dickens" by Matthew Pearl: While it’s a novel, it captures the atmosphere of the Dickens family's various struggles and the pressure of the legacy.
• Check the NSW Parliamentary Records: You can actually look up Edward's voting record and speeches. It gives a fascinating glimpse into what he actually cared about—mostly land rights and local infrastructure.
• Analyze the "Remittance Man" Phenomenon: Plorn’s story is a perfect case study for how the British Empire functioned as a pressure valve for the middle class.

The story of Edward Bulwer Lytton Dickens is a reminder that behind every "great man" in history, there's often a family of real people just trying to survive the shadow. He wasn't a literary giant, but he was a man who carved out a life in a world his father only ever wrote about from a distance.