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John Clare wrote the story of his escape from Epping Mental Asylum multiple times. Each version is a little different. Clare was suffering both from malnutrition and the effects of his ‘madness’ – it’s fair to say he wasn’t the most reliable narrator.

This is the second part (part one, part two) – pieced together from Clare’s own writings thanks to Eric Robinson – is illustrated with moments from the Clare’s Escape game.

On the third day I satisfied my hunger by eating the grass by the road side which seemed to taste something like bread. I was hungry and ate heartily until I was satisfied and in face the meal seemed to do me good. The next and last day I recollected that I had some tobacco and my box of lucifers being exhausted I could not light my pipe so I took to chewing tobacco all day and eat the quids when I had done and I was never hungry afterwards. I remember passing through Buckden and going a length of road afterwards I do not recollect the name of any place until I came to Stilton, where I was completely foot foundered and broken down.

When I had got about half way through the town a gravel causeway invited me to rest myself so I laid down and nearly went to sleep. A young woman (so I guessed by the voice) came out of a house and said “Poor creature;” and another more elderly said “Oh, he shams.” but when I got up the latter said “Oh no, he don’t” as I hobbled along very lame.

I heard the voices, but never looked back to see where they came from – when I got near the inn at the end of the gravel walk I met two young women and asked one of them whether the road branching to the right by the inn did not lead to Peterborough and she said “Yes” it did so as soon as ever I was on it, I felt myself in homes way and went on rather more cheerful though I was forced to rest oftener than usual.

Before I got to Peterborough, a man and woman passed in a cart and on hailing me as they passed, I found they were neighbours from Helpston where I used to live – I told them I was knocked-up, which they could easily see and that I had neither eat nor drank since I left Essex. When I told my story they clubbed together and threw me fivepence out of the cart. I picked it up and called at a small public-house near the bridge, where I had two half pints of ale, and twopenn’oth of bread and cheese. When I had done I started quite refreshed only my feet was more crippled than ever, and I could scarcely make a walk of it over the stones and being half ashamed to sit down in the street, and forced myself to keep on the move and got through to Peterborough better than expected.

When I got on the high road I rested on the stone-heaps, till I was able to go on afresh and bye-and-bye I passed Walton and soon reached Werrington amd was making for the “Beehive” as fast as I could when a cart met me, with a man, a woman, and a boy in it. When nearing me the woman jumped out and caught fast hold of my hands and wished me to get into the cart but I refused thinking her either drunk or mad. But when I was told it was my second wife, Patty, I got in, and was soon at Northborough.

But Mary was not there neither could I get any information about her further than the old story of her having died six years ago which might be taken from a bran new old Newspaper printed a dozen years but I took no notice of the blarney having seen her myself twelve months ago alive and well and as young as ever. So here I am homeless at home and half gratified to feel that I can be happy anywhere.

Explore John Clare’s journey through the game Clare’s Escape on Steam or the Apple Store.

The game explores more aspects of Clare’s life mind state and questions some of his official account.

© A Human Sense Design game, 2024

John Clare wrote the story of his escape from Epping Mental Asylum multiple times. Each version is a little different. Clare was suffering both from malnutrition and the effects of his ‘madness’ – it’s fair to say he wasn’t the most reliable narrator.

This is the second part (part one here) – pieced together from Clare’s own writings thanks to Eric Robinson – is illustrated with moments from the Clare’s Escape game.

I followed looking in vain for the country mans straw bed – and not being able to meet it I lay down by a shed side under some Elm trees between the wall and the trees being a thick row planted some 5 or 6 feet from the building. I lay there and tried to sleep but the wind came in between them so cold that I lay till I quaked like the ague and quitted the lodging for a better at the Ram which I could hardly hope to find – It now began to grow dark apace and the odd houses on the road began to light up and show the inside tenants lots very comfortable and my outside lot very uncomfortable and wretched – still I hobbled forward as well as I could, and at last came the “Ram.” The shutters were not closed, and the lighted window looked very cheering; but I had no money, and did not like to go in.

There was a sort of shed, or gig-house, at the end; but I did not like to lie there, as the people were up; so I still travelled on. The road was very lonely and dark, being overshaded with trees. At length I came to a place where the road branched off into two turnpikes, one to the right about, and the other straight forwarda and on going by my eye glanced on a mile stone standing under the hedge so I heedlessly turned back to read it to see where the other road led to and on so doing I found it led to London. I then suddenly forgot which was north or south and though narrowly examined both ways, I could see no tree, or bush, or stone heap that I could recollect having passed so I went on mile after mile, almost convinced I was going the same way I came and these thoughts were so strong upon me that doubts and hopelessness made me turn so feeble that I was scarcely able to walk yet I could not sit down or give up, but shuffled along till I saw a lamp shining as bright as the moon, which, on nearing, I found was suspended over a tollgate

Before I got through, the man came out with a candle, and eyed me narrowly but having no fear I stopt to ask him whether I was going northwards and he said “When you get through the gate you are.” So I thanked him, and went through to the other side and gathered my old strength as my doubts vanished.I soon cheered up, and hummed the air of “Highland Mary” as I went on. I at length came to an odd house, all alone, near a wood I could not see what the sign was though the sign seemed to stand oddly enough in a sort of trough, or spout. There was a large porch over the door and being weary I crept in and was glad enough to find I could lie with my legs straight the inmates were all gone to roost for I could hear them turn over as I lay on the stones in the porch – I slept here till daylight and felt much refreshed as I got up – I blest my two wives and both their familys when I lay down and when I got up and when I thought of some former difficultys on a like occasion I could not help blessing the Queen.

Having passed a lodge on the left hand side within a mile and half or less of a town I think it might be St Ives but I forget the name I sat down to rest on a flint heap, for half an hour or more and while sitting here, I saw a tall gypsey come out of the lodge gate, and make down the road to where I was sitting.

When she got up to me on seeing she was a young woman with a honest-looking countenance and rather handsome I spoke to her and asked her a few questions which she answered readily and with evident good humour. So I got up and went onto the next town with her – she cautioned me on the way to put something in my hat to keep the crown up and said in a lower tone “You’ll be noticed.” But not knowing at what she hinted – I took no notice and made no reply. At length she pointed to a small church tower, which she called Shefford Church and advised me to go on a footway which would take me direct to it and would shorten my journey fifteen miles by doing so.

I would gladly have taken the young woman’s advice feeling that it was honest and a nigh guess towards the truth but fearing I might lose my way and not be able to find the North Road again I thanked her and told her I should keep to the road. She then bade me “good day,” and went into a house or shop on the left hand side of the road.

I have but a slight recollection of my journey between here and Stilton, for I was knocked up, and noticed little or nothing – one night I laid in a dyke-bottom, sheltered from the wind, and went asleep for half an hour. When I suddenly awoke and found one side wet through from the sock in the dyke bottom so I got out and went on. I remember going down a very dark road, hung over on both sides with thick trees it seemed to extend a mile or two. I then entered a town and some of the chamber windows had candle lights shining in them – I felt so weary here that I forced to sit on the ground to rest myself and while I sat here a coach that seemed heavily laden came rattling up and stopt in the hollow below me and I cannot reccolect it ever passing by me. Then I got up and pushed onward seeing little to notice for the road very oftern looked as stupid as myself and I was very often half asleep as I went

John Clare’s written journey continues in the third part.

Or explore this journey through the game, Clare’s Escape (on Steam or the Apple Store) where you can explore Clare’s mind state and challenge his official account.

© A Human Sense Design game, 2024

John Clare wrote the story of his escape from Epping Mental Asylum multiple times. Each version is a little different. Clare was suffering both from malnutrition and the effects of his ‘madness’ – it’s fair to say he wasn’t the most reliable narrator.

The following – pieced together from Clare’s own writings thanks to Eric Robinson – is illustrated with moments from the Clare’s Escape game.

July 18, 1841, Sunday.
Felt very melancholy. Went for a walk in the forest in the afternoon. Fell in with some gypsies, one of whom offered to assist in my escape from the madhouse by hiding me in his camp, to which I almost agreed but told him I had no money to start with but if he would do so I would promise him fifty pounds and he agreed to do so before saturday[.] on friday I went again but he did not seem so willing so I said little about it

On Sunday I went and they were all gone – an old wide-awake hat and an old straw bonnet, of the plum-pudding sort, was left behind – and I put the hat in my pocket, thinking it might be useful for another opportunity. As good lack would have it, it turned out to be so.

July 19 – Monday – Did nothing

July 20.
Reconnoitered the rout the gipsey had taken, and found it a legible one to make a movement and having only honest courage and myself in my army I led the way and my troops soon followed. But being careless in mapping down the road as the gipsey told me, I missed the lane to Enfield Town, and was going down Enfield Highway, till I passed the “Labour-in-vain” public-house, where a person I knew comeing out of the door told me the way.

I walked down the lane gently, and was soon in Enfield Town, and by and by on the great York Road, where it was all plain sailing and steering ahead meeting no enemy and fearing none I reached Stevenage where being night I got over a gate crossed over the corner of a green paddock where seeing a pond or hollow in the corner, I was forced to stay off a respectable distance to keep from falling into it for my legs were nearly knocked up and began to stagger. I scaled some old rotten paleings into the yard and then had higher palings to clamber over to get into the shed or hovel which I did with difficulty, being rather weak and to my good luck I found some trusses of clover piled up about six or more feet square, which I gladly mounted and slept on. There was some trays in the hovel on which I could have reposed had I not found a better bed. I slept soundly, but had a very uneasy dream I thought my first wife lay on my left arm and somebody took her away from my side which made me wake up rather unhappy. I thought as I awoke somebody said “Mary”, but nobody was near

I lay down with my head towards the north to show myself the steering point in the morning.

July 21.
When I awoke daylight was looking in on every side and fearing my garrison might be taken by storm and myself be made a prisoner I left my lodging by the way I got in and thanked God for his kindness in procuring it (for any thing in a famine is better than nothing and in any place that giveth the weary rest is a blessing) I gained the North Road again, and steered due north – on the left hand side the road under the bank like a cave I saw a man and boy coiled up asleep which I hailed, and they awoke to tell me the name of the next village.

Some where on the London side near the “Plough” public-house, a man passed me on horseback, in a slop frock, and said, “Here’s another of the broken-down haymakers,” and threw me a penny to get a half pint of beer, which I picked up, and thanked him for, and when I got to the “Plough,” I called for a half pint and drank it and got a rest and escaped a very heavy shower in the bargain by having a shelter till it was over

Afterwards I would have begged a penny of two drovers who were very saucey so I begged no more of any body meet who I would – I passed 3 or 4 good built houses on a hill and a public house on the road side in the hollow below them. I seemed to pass the Milestones very quick in the morning but towards the night they seemed stretched further asunder. I got to a village further on and forgot the name the road on the left hand was quite over shaded by some trees and quite dry so I sat down half an hour and made a good many wishes for breakfast but wishes was no hearty meal so I got up as hungry as I sat down – I forget here the names of the villages I passed through but recollect at late evening going through Potton in Bedfordshire where I called in a house to light my pipe in which was a civil old woman and young country wench making lace on a cushions round as a globe and a young fellow all civil people – I asked them a few questions as to the way and where the clergyman and overseer lived but they scarcely heard me or gave me no answer.

I went through Potton and happened with a kind talking country man who told me the Parson lived a good way from where I was or overseer I do’n’t know which so I went on hopping with a crippled foot for the gravel had got into my old shoes one of which had now nearly lost the sole. Had I found the overseers house at hand or the Parsons I should have gave my name and begged for a shilling to carry me home but I was forced to brush on pennyless and be thankful I had a leg to move on – I then asked him wether he could tell me of a farm yard any where on the road where I could find a shed and some dry straw and he said yes and if you go with me I will show you the place – its a public house on the left hand side of the road at the sign of the ‘Ram’ and seeing a stone or flint heap I longed to rest as one of my feet was very painful so I thanked him for his kindness and bid him to go on – but the good natured fellow lingered a while as if wishing to conduct me and then suddenly recolecting that he had a hamper on his shoulder and a lock up bag in his hand cram full to meet the coach which he feared missing – he started hastily and was soon out of sight.

John Clare’s written journey continues in the second part.

Or explore this journey through the game, Clare’s Escape (on Steam or the Apple Store) where you can explore Clare’s mind state and challenge his official account.

© A Human Sense Design game, 2024