Books: Life and Remains of John Clare

J >> J. L. Cherry >> Life and Remains of John Clare

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Again I struggled, and the spell was broke,
And 'midst the laugh of mocking ghosts I woke;
My eyes were open'd on an unhoped sight--
The early morning and its welcome light,
And, as I ponder'd o'er the past profound,
I heard the cock crow, and I blest the sound.

FAILURE OF "THE SHEPHERD'S CALENDAR"

"The Shepherd's Calendar" sold very slowly, for several months after
its publication Mr. Taylor wrote to Clare:--

"The season has been a very bad one for new books, and I am afraid
the time has passed away in which poetry will answer. With that
beautiful frontispiece of De Wint's to attract attention, and so much
excellent verse inside the volume, the 'Shepherd's Calendar' has had
comparatively no sale. It will be a long time, I doubt, before it
pays me my expenses, but ours is the common lot. I am almost hopeless
of the sale of the books reimbursing me. Of profit I am certain we
have not had any, but that I should not care for: it is to be
considerably out of pocket that annoys me, and by the new works my
loss will probably be heavy."

And again, after the lapse of four or five months:--

"The poems have not yet sold much, but I cannot say how many are
disposed of. All the old poetry-buyers seem to be dead, and the new
ones have no taste for it."

And now for a time Clare eked out his scanty income by writing poems
for the annuals, the silk-bound illustrated favourites of fashion,
which for ten or twelve years almost sufficed to satisfy the languid
appetite of the English public for poetry. Clare was sought after by
several editors; among the rest, Allan Cunningham, editor of the
"Anniversary;" Mr. and Mrs. S. C. Hall, who severally conducted the
"Amulet" and the "Juvenile Forget-me-not." Alaric A. Watts, editor of
the "Literary Souvenir;" Thomas Hood, and others. "The Rural Muse,"
the last volume which Clare published, was composed almost entirely
of poems which had appeared in the annuals, or other periodicals. The
remuneration which Clare received was respectable, if not munificent.
His kind-hearted Scotch friend, Allan Cunningham, was certain to see
that he was treated with liberality: Mrs. Hall, on behalf of Messrs.
Ackermann, sent him in October, 1828, three guineas for "The
Grasshopper," and in the following month Mr. Hall wrote "Enclosed you
will receive L5, for your contributions to the 'Amulet' and the
'Juvenile Forget-Me-Not.' I am however still L2 in your debt, L7
being the sum I have set apart for you. How shall I forward you the
remaining L2?" Mr. Alaric Watts frequently importuned Clare for
contributions for the "Literary Souvenir" and the "Literary Magnet,"
but he was exceedingly fastidious and plain-spoken, and although he
sent Clare presents of books he never said in his letters anything
about payment. At length Clare hinted to him that some acknowledgment
of that kind would be acceptable, and then Mr. Watts replied, "I have
no objection to make you some pecuniary return if you send me any
poem worthy of yourself, but really those you have sent me of late
are so very inferior, with the exception of a little drinking song,
which I shall probably print, that it would do you no service to
insert them." This appears to have closed the correspondence.

A sketch of Clare's life would be incomplete which did not notice the
subject of his relations with his publishers. His first two works--
"Poems Descriptive of Rural Life and Scenery" and "The Village
Minstrel"--were published conjointly by Messrs. Taylor and Hessey and
Mr. Drury, of Stamford, on the understanding that Clare was to
receive one half of the profits, and that the London and local
publishers should divide the remaining half of the profits between
them. Before the publication of the third work--the "Shepherd's
Calendar"--an arrangement was come to by which Mr. Drury ceased to
have any interest in Clare's books, and the London firm renewed the
agreement which gave Clare one half of the profits. It was the
practice of Taylor and Hessey to remit to Clare money on account, in
sums of L10 or L20, and evidently at their own discretion--a
discretion which, considering Clare's position and circumstances,
appears to have been wisely and considerately exercised. Added
together, these remittances made, for a person in Clare's condition,
a considerable sum of money, but the poet fretted and chafed under
the want of confidence in his judgement which he thought was implied
by this mode of treatment, and he repeatedly applied to Taylor and
Hessey for a regular and businesslike statement of account. During
the time Mr. Drury had a pecuniary interest in the sale of Clare's
books, the London publishers excused themselves from furnishing an
account on the ground that it had been complicated by Mr. Drury's
claims, but years passed away after the latter had been arranged
with, and still the rendering of the account was postponed. This
irritated Clare, and he frequently spoke and wrote of his publishers
with a degree of bitterness which he afterwards regretted. His
suspicions, for which there was no real foundation, were at one time
encouraged rather than otherwise by influential friends in London,
and therefore in February, 1828, he resolved to take another journey
to Town, with the two-fold object of having a settlement with his
publishers and consulting Dr. Darling respecting a distressing
ailment with which he was then afflicted.

"My dear and suffering Clare," wrote Mrs. Emmerson at this time,
"your painful letter of to-day is no sooner read by me than I take up
my pen, and an extra-sized sheet of paper, to pour out the regrets of
my heart for your illness. God knows I am little able to give thee
'comfort,' for indeed, my Clare, thy friend is a beggar in
philosophy, so heavily have the ills of humanity pressed upon her of
late; but such 'comfort' as confiding and sympathizing souls can
offer do I give in full to thee. Receive it then, my poor Clare, and
let the utterings of my pen (which instead of gloomy ink I would dip
into the sweet balm of Gilead for thy afflictions) prove again and
again thy 'physician.' Forget not what you told me in your former
letter: 'your letters come over my melancholy musings like the dews
of the morning. I am already better, and you are my physician.' Now,
my dear Clare, let me, instead of listening to, or rather acting upon
your melancholy forebodings, entreat you to cheer up, and in the
course of another week make up a little bundle of clothes, and set
yourself quietly inside the Deeping coach for London. I will get your
'sky chamber' ready to receive you, or my niece Eliza shall yield to
you her lower apartment, the blue room. We can then, 'in council
met,' talk over wills, and new volumes of poems, and all other
worldly matters relating to yourself, myself, and posterity."

And again, on the 20th of February:--

"I was yesterday obliged to receive a whole family of foreigners to
dinner. I now hasten, my dear Clare, to entreat you will not allow
your kind resolves of coming to visit us to take an unfavourable
change. I would send down the money for your journey, but am fearful
it might be lost. Let me merely say then, that I shall have the
pleasure to give it you when we meet. I am sure you will benefit in
your health by coming to see us. I have a most worthy friend, a
physician, who will do everything, I am sure, to aid you. We shall
have a thousand things to chat over when we meet, and it will require
a calm head and a quiet heart to effect all we propose. Bring your
MSS. With you, and I will do all in my power."

The cordiality of this invitation was irresistible, and Clare, a few
days afterwards, presented himself in Stratford Place, where he was
entertained during his stay in London, which extended over five
weeks.

THE POET TURNED PEDLAR

Shortly after his arrival he called upon Mr. Taylor, who told him
that the sale of the "Shepherd's Calendar" had not been large, and
that if he chose to sell his books himself in his own neighbourhood
he might have a supply at cost price, or half-a-crown per volume.
Clare consulted his intimate friends on this project: Allan
Cunningham indignantly inveighed against Mr. Taylor for making a
suggestion so derogatory to the dignity of a poet, and Mrs. Emmerson
at first took a similar view, but afterwards changed her mind, on
seeing Clare himself pretty confident that he could sell a sufficient
number of copies not only to clear himself from debt but enable him
to rent a small farm. After Clare had accepted the offer she wrote to
him as follows:--

"I am sincerely happy to hear from your last communications about Mr.
Taylor that you can now become the merchant of your own gems, so get
purchasers for them as fast as possible, and, as Shakspeare says,
'put money in thy purse.' I hope your long account with T. may
shortly and satisfactorily be settled. 'Tis well of you to do things
gently and with kindly disposition, for indeed I think Mr. Taylor is
a worthy man at heart."

The promised statement of account was furnished in August or
September 1829, but Clare disputed its accuracy and some of his
corrections were accepted. Years elapsed before he could feel quite
satisfied that he had been fairly treated, and in the meantime a
rupture with his old friend and trustee, Mr. Taylor, was only averted
by that gentleman's kindness and forbearance. Clare gave the pedlar
project a fair trial, but it brought him little beyond fatigue,
mortification, and disappointment. About this time his fifth child
was born.

VISIT TO BOSTON

Not long after Clare's return from London, the Mayor of Boston
invited him to visit that town. He accepted the invitation and was
hospitably entertained. A number of young men of the town proposed a
public supper in his honour, and gave him notice that he would have
to reply to the toast of his own health. Clare shrank from this
terrible ordeal and quitted Boston with scant ceremony. This he
regretted on discovering that his warm-hearted friends and admirers
had, unknown to him, put ten pounds into his travelling bag. His
visit to Boston was followed by an attack of fever which assailed in
turn every member of his family, and rendered necessary the frequent
visits of a medical man for several months. For a long time Clare was
quite unable to do any work in the fields, or sell any of his poems,
and hence arose fresh embarrassments.

In the autumn of 1829 Clare once more made a farming venture on a
small scale, and for about eighteen months he was fairly successful.
This raised his spirits to an unwonted pitch, and his health greatly
improved; but the gleam of sunshine passed away and poverty and
sickness were again his portion. In 1831 his household consisted of
ten persons, a sixth child having been born to him in the previous
year. To support so large a family it was not sufficient that he
frequently denied himself the commonest necessaries of life: this for
years past he had been accustomed to do, but still he could not "keep
the wolf from the door." In his distress he consulted his
confidential friends, Artis and Henderson. While talking with
Henderson one day at Milton Park, Clare had the good fortune to meet
the noble owner, to whom he told all his troubles. His lordship
listened attentively to the story, and when Clare had finished
promised that a cottage and a small piece of land should be found for
him. The promise was kept, for we find Mr. Emmerson writing on the
9th of November, 1831:--

"Why have you not, with your own good pen, informed me of the
circumstance of your shortly becoming Farmer John? Yes, thanks to the
generous Lord Milton, I am told in a letter from your kind friend,
the Rev. Mr. Mossop (dated October 27th) that you have the offer of a
most comfortable cottage, which will be fitted up for your reception
about January the 1st 1832, that it will have an acre of orchard and
garden, inclusive of a common for two cows, with a meadow sufficient
to produce fodder for the winter."

REMOVAL TO NORTHBOROUGH

The cottage which Lord Milton set apart for Clare was situated at
Northborough, a village three miles from Helpstone, and thus
described by the author of "Rambles Roundabout":--

"Northborough is a large village, not in the sense of its number of
houses or its population, but of the space of ground which it
covers. The houses are mostly cottages, half-hidden in orchards and
luxuriant gardens, having a prodigality of ground. There is not an
eminence loftier than a molehill throughout, yet the spacious roads
and the wealth of trees and flowers make it a very picturesque and
happy-looking locality. Clare's cottage stands in the midst of ample
grounds."

It has been generally supposed that the cottage was provided for
Clare rent-free, but that this was not the case is shown by the fact
that in one of his letters to Mrs. Emmerson he told her that he had
had to sub-let the piece of common for less than he was himself
paying for it. The rent was either L13 or L15 a year, but whether the
regular payment of that amount was insisted upon is very doubtful. To
the astonishment and even annoyance of many of Clare's friends, when
he was informed that the cottage was ready for its new tenants, he
showed the utmost reluctance to leave Helpstone. Mr. Martin gives the
following account of what took place:--

"Patty, radiant with joy to get away from the miserable little hut
into a beautiful roomy cottage, a palace in comparison with the old
dwelling, had all things ready for moving at the beginning of June,
yet could not persuade her husband to give his consent to the final
start. Day after day he postponed it, offering no excuse save that he
could not bear to part from his old home. Day after day he kept
walking through fields and woods among his old haunts, with wild,
haggard look, muttering incoherent language. The people of the
village began to whisper that he was going mad. At Milton Park they
heard of it, and Artis and Henderson hurried to Helpstone to look
after their friend. They found him sitting on a moss-grown stone, at
the end of the village nearest the heath. Gently they took him by the
arm, and, leading him back to the hut, told Mrs. Clare that it would
be best to start at once to Northborough, the Earl being dissatisfied
that the removal had not taken place. Patty's little caravan was soon
ready, and the poet, guided by his friends, followed in the rear,
walking mechanically, with eyes half shut, as if in a dream. His look
brightened for a moment when entering his new dwelling place, a truly
beautiful cottage, with thatched roof, casemented windows, wild roses
over the porch, and flowery hedges all round. Yet before many hours
were over he fell back into deep melancholy, from which he was
relieved only by a new burst of song. His feelings found vent in the
touching verses beginning 'I've left my own old home of homes.'"

Shortly after removing to Northborough Clare made another ineffectual
attempt to induce his trustees to draw out a portion of his fund
money. Writing in connection with this subject Mr. Emmerson says:--

"Mrs. Emmerson and myself take a lively interest in your welfare, and
we shall be glad to know exactly how you stand in your affairs, what
debts you owe, and what stock you require for your present pursuit:
by stock, I mean a cow or cows, pigs, &c. Pray give me an early reply
to all these particulars, that we may see if anything can be done
here to serve you."

Clare replied at once, and in a few days Mrs. Emmerson wrote as
follows:--

"We have consulted with Mr. Taylor. Mr. Emmerson went to him
yesterday on the receipt of your letter, and informed him of its
contents, and it was concluded to set on foot a private friendly
subscription to help Farmer John in his concerns. E. L. E. will give
L10, which must be laid out in the purchase of a cow, which she begs
may be called by the poetic name of Rose or Blossom, or May. Mr.
Taylor will kindly give L5 to purchase two pigs, and I dare say we
shall succeed in getting another L5 to buy a butter churn and a few
useful tools for husbandry, so that you may all set to work and begin
to turn your labour to account, and by instalments pay off the
various little debts which have accumulated in your own
neighbourhood. Your garden, and orchard, and dairy will soon release
you from these demands, I hope; at any rate you will thus have a
beginning, and with the blessing of Providence, and health on your
side, and care and industry on the part of your wife and children, I
hope my dear Clare will sit down happy ere long in his new abode,
rather than have cause to regret leaving his 'own old home of homes.'
It is a very natural and tender lament."

Clare had not lived long at Northborough when he was waited upon by
the editor of a London magazine who wormed from him an account of his
private affairs, and having dressed up that account in what would now
be called a sensational style, published it to the world. The article
contained many unjust insinuations against Clare's patrons and
publishers, and Mr. Taylor commenced actions, afterwards abandoned,
against the magazine in which it originally appeared, the "Alfred,"
and also against a Stamford paper, into which the article was copied.
Clare indignantly protested against the use to which his conversation
with his meddlesome visitor had been put, but it is impossible
entirely to acquit him of blame. Mr. Taylor remonstrated with him
upon his indiscretion, but with a consideration for his inexperience
which it is very pleasant to notice, refrained from a severity of
rebuke to which Clare had no doubt exposed himself. "I have been much
hurt," he says, "at finding that my endeavours to do you service have
ended no better than they have, but if you supposed that I had been
benefited by it, or that I had withheld from you anything you were
entitled to--any profit whatever on any of your works--you have been
grievously mistaken." Mr. Taylor was constant to the end, for after
this he promoted Clare's interests by every means in his power,
conferring with Dr. Darling on his behalf, discharging in conjunction
with Mrs. Emmerson a heavy account sent in by a local medical man,
advising him in all his troubles, offering him a home whenever he
chose to come to London to see Dr. Darling, editing his last volume
of poems, although it was brought out by a house with which he had no
connection, and, finally, contributing to his maintenance when it
became necessary to send him to a private asylum. Among the
indications which Clare gave of the approaching loss of reason were
frequent complaints that he was haunted by evil spirits, and that he
and his family were bewitched. Writing on this subject in February,
1833, Mr. Taylor said:--

"As for evil spirits, depend upon it, my dear friend, that there are
none, and that there is no such thing as witchcraft. But I am sure
that our hearts naturally are full of evil thoughts, and that God has
intended to set us free from the dominion of such thoughts by his
good Spirit. You will not expect me to say much on this subject,
knowing that I never press it upon my friends. I must, however, so
far depart from my custom as to say, that I am perfectly certain a
man may be happy even in this life if he will listen to the Word
which came down from heaven, and be as a little child in his
obedience and willingness to do what it requires of him. I am sure of
this, that if we receive the Spirit of God in our hearts we shall
never die. We shall go away from this scene, and our bodies will be
consigned to the grave, but with less pain than we have often felt in
life we shall be carried through what seem to be the pangs of death,
and then we shall be with that holy and blessed company at once who
have died fully believing in Christ, and who shall never again be
separated from him and happiness.

Farewell, my dear Clare.

Believe me ever most sincerely yours,

JOHN TAYLOR."

"THE RURAL MUSE"

In 1832 Clare projected a new volume of poems, and with the
assistance of his friends obtained in a few months two hundred
subscribers. Mr. Taylor having represented that as publisher to the
London University poetry was no longer in his line of business, Mr.
Emmerson undertook the task of finding another publisher, and opened
a correspondence with Mr. How, a gentleman connected with the house
of Whittaker & Co. A large number of manuscript poems and of fugitive
pieces from the annuals were submitted to Mr. How, who was requested
by Mr. Emmerson to make the poet an offer. The negotiation was
successful, for on the 8th of March, 1834, Mr. Emmerson was enabled
to write to Clare as follows:--

"My very dear Clare,--

At length with great pleasure, although after great anxiety and
trouble, I have brought your affair with Mr. How to a conclusion. I
have enclosed a receipt for your signature, and if you will write
your name at the bottom of it and return it enclosed in a letter to
me, I shall have the L40 in ready money for you immediately. You will
perceive by the receipt that I have sold only the copyright of the
first edition, and that Mr. How stipulates shall consist of only 750
copies, or at the utmost 1000. And now, with the license of a friend,
I am about to talk to you about your affairs. This money has been
hardly earned by your mental labour, and with difficulty obtained by
me for you, only by great perseverance. We are therefore most anxious
it should be the means of freeing you from all debt or incumbrance,
in order that your mind may be once more at ease, and that you may
revel with your muse at will, regardless of all hauntings save hers,
and when she troubles you can pay her off in her own coin. The sum
you stated some time since I think was L35 as sufficient to clear all
your debts, and thus you will be able to start fairly with the world
again."

While the "Rural Muse" was in the press, Mr. How, one of the very few
of Clare's earlier friends who are still living, suggested to him the
advisableness of his applying to the committee of the Literary Fund
for a grant, and promising to exert himself to the utmost to secure
the success of the application. Clare applied for L50, and obtained
it, whereupon Mrs. Emmerson, to whose heart there was no readier way
than that of showing kindness to poor Clare, writes:--

"In my last, I told you I had written to Mr. How on the subject of
the Literary Fund, &c. Yesterday morning the good little man came to
communicate to me the favourable result of the application. The
committee have nobly presented you with fifty pounds. Blessings on
them! for giving you the means to do honour to every engagement, and
leave you, I hope, a surplus to fly to when needed. Mr. How is just
the sort of man for my own nature. He is willing to do his best for
Clare. He has shown himself in the recent event as one of the few who
perform what they promise. God bless him for his kindly exertions to
emancipate you from your thraldom!"

"The Rural Muse" was published in July, and was cordially received by
the "Athenaeum," "Blackwood's Magazine," the "Literary Gazette," and
other leading periodicals. It was well printed and embellished with
engravings of Northborough Church and the poet's cottage. It has been
already intimated that the poems included within this volume, while
retaining all the freshness and simplicity of Clare's earlier works,
exhibit traces of the mental cultivation to which for years so large
a portion of his time had been devoted. The circle of subjects is
greatly expanded, the passages to which exception may be taken on the
score of carelessness or obscurity are few, and the diction is often
refined and elevated to a degree of which the poet had not before
shown himself capable. The following extracts are made almost at
random:--

AUTUMN

Syren of sullen moods and fading hues,
Yet haply not incapable of joy,
Sweet Autumn! I thee hail
With welcome all unfeigned;

And oft as morning from her lattice peeps
To beckon up the sun, I seek with thee
To drink the dewy breath
Of fields left fragrant then,

In solitudes, where no frequented paths
But what thine own foot makes betray thine home,
Stealing obtrusive there
To meditate thy end;

By overshadowed ponds, in woody nooks,
With ramping sallows lined, and crowding sedge,
Which woo the winds to play,
And with them dance for joy;

And meadow pools, torn wide by lawless floods,
Where waterlilies spread their oily leaves,
On which, as wont, the fly
Oft battens in the sun;

Where leans the mossy willow half way o'er,
On which the shepherd crawls astride to throw
His angle, clear of weeds
That crown the water's brim;

Or crispy hills and hollows scant of sward,
Where step by step the patient, lonely boy,
Hath cut rude flights of stairs
To climb their steepy sides;

* * * * *

Now filtering winds thin winnow through the woods
With tremulous noise, that bids, at every breath,
Some sickly cankered leaf
Let go its hold and die.

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