John Clare 1793-1864

Personal

John Clare was born in Helpston near Peterborough, Northamptonshire in 1793. In 1820 he married Martha Turner and published his first book of poems. He died in 1864 in Northamptonshire General Asylum still writing poems when his mental health permitted.

Career

Despite having little schooling, he began writing verses after reading many of the James Thompson's Seasons. His first love, Mary Joyce, caused Clare great pain after their separation and it contributed to the sense of loss which pervades much of his poetry. In 1820 he published his first book of poems and was described as 'John Clare, a Northampton Peasant' on the title-page, which brought him some celebrity in London. He made friends with Charles Lamb and other literary figures and was granted the sum of £45 a year by wealthy patrons. Due to the worsening relationship with his publishers, who insisted on 'correcting' Clare's individual style and use of dialect, to make his verse fit poetic convention, as well as his financial worries, put tremendous strain on his mind, and in 1837 he was admitted to a mental asylum in High Beach, Epping. He escaped from the asylum in 1841, and walked home to Northamptonshire, under the delusion that he would be reunited with Mary Joyce there. A few months later he entered Northamptonshire General Asylum, where he lived for the rest of his life. The asylum poems are among his best known works, but the haunting descriptions of rural landscapes in poems such as 'The Flitting', 'Decay' and 'Remembrances'.

Relationship with Epping

He was admitted to a mental asylum in High Beach, Epping in 1837 but escaped in 1841.

External Links

For more information please visit the below links.

John Clare biography and poems

The Northamptonshire peasant poet

John Clare Quotes

He could not die when trees were green, for he loved the time too well.
 
I long for scenes, where man hath never trod, a place where woman never smiled or wept - there to abide with my creator, God, and sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept, untroubling, and untroubled where I lie, the grass below - above, the vaulted sky.
 
If life had a second edition, how I would correct the proofs.

Still, I have been no one's enemy but my own. My easy nature, either in drinking or anything else, was always ready to submit to persuasions of profligate companions, who often led me into snares.
 
The best way to avoid a bad action is by doing a good one, for there is no difficulty in the world like that of trying to do nothing.