The Life of John Clare | Page 5

seemed to him a real
teacher. While tending his geese, John came into daily contact with
Mary Bains, an ancient lady, filling the dignified post of cowherd of the

village, and driving her cattle into the pastures annually from May-day
unto Michaelmas. She was an extraordinary old creature, this Mary
Bains, commonly known as Granny Bains. Having spent almost her
whole life out of doors, in heat and cold, storm and rain, she had come
to be intimately acquainted with all the signs foreboding change of
weather, and was looked upon by her acquaintances as a perfect oracle.
She had also a most retentive memory, and being of a joyous nature,
with a bodily frame that never knew illness, had learnt every verse or
melody that was sung within her hearing, until her mind became a very
storehouse of songs. To John, old Granny Bains soon took a great
liking, he being a devout listener, ready to sit at her feet for hours and
hours while she was warbling her little ditties, alternately merry and
plaintive. Sometimes the singing had such an effect that both the
ancient songstress and her young admirer forgot their duties over it.
Then, when the cattle went straying into the pond, and the geese were
getting through the corn, Granny Bains would suddenly cease singing,
and snatching up her snuff-box, hobble across the fields in wild haste,
with her two dogs at her side as respectful aides-de-camp, and little
John bringing up the rear. But though often disturbed in the enjoyment
of those delightful recitations, they nevertheless sunk deep into John
Clare's mind, until he found himself repeating all day long the songs he
had heard, and even in his dreams kept humming--
'There sat two ravens upon a tree, Heigh down, derry, O! There sat two
ravens upon a tree, As deep in love as he and she.'
It was thus that the admiration of poetry first awoke in Parker Clare's
son, roused by the songs of Granny Bains, the cowherd of Helpston.

JOHN CLARE LEARNS THRESHING, AND MAKES AN
ATTEMPT TO BECOME A LAWYER'S CLERK.
The extreme poverty of Parker Clare and his wife compelled them to
put their son to hard work earlier than is usual even in country places.
John was their only son; of four children born to them, only he and a
little sister, some six years younger, having remained alive; and it was
necessary, therefore, that he should contribute to the maintenance of the
family, otherwise dependent upon parish relief. Consequently, John
was sent to the farmer's to thrash before he was twelve years old, his
father making him a small flail suited to his weak arms. The boy was

not only willing, but most eager to work, his anxious desire being to
assist his poor parents in procuring the daily bread. However, his
bodily strength was not equal to his will. After a few months' work in
the barn, and another few months behind the plough, he came home
very ill, having caught the tertiary ague in the damp, ill-drained fields.
Then there was anxious consulting in the little cottage what to do next.
The miserable allowance from 'the union' was insufficient to purchase
even the necessary quantity of potatoes and rye-bread for the household,
and, to escape starvation,--it was absolutely necessary that John should
go to work again, whatever his strength. So he dragged himself from
his bed of sickness, and took once more to the plough, the kind farmer
consenting to his leading the horses on the least heavy ground. The
weather was dry for a season, and John rallied wonderfully, so as to be
able to do some extra-work, and earn a few pence, which he saved
carefully for educational purposes. And when the winter came round,
and there was little work in the fields, he made arrangements with the
schoolmaster at Glinton, a man famed far and wide, to become his
pupil for five evenings in the week, and for as many more days as he
might be out of employment. The trial of education was carried on to
John Clare's highest satisfaction, as well as that of his parents, who
proclaimed aloud that their son was going to be a scholar.
Glinton, a small village of about three hundred inhabitants, stands some
four or five miles east of Helpston, bordering on the Peterborough
Great Fen. It was famous in Clare's time, and is famous still, for its
educational establishments, there being three daily schools in the place,
one of them endowed. The school to which John went, was presided
over by a Mr. James Merrishaw. He was a thin, tall old man, with long
white hair hanging down his coat-collar, in the fashion of bygone days.
It was his habit to take extensive