Civic Pride: Parallels between Chris Turner and John Clare

A couple of weeks ago I visited two local statues. I hadn’t set out to deliberately visit or link the two, it was quite accidental, writes Toby Wood of Peterborough Civic Society.
Statues of John Clare and Chris TurnerStatues of John Clare and Chris Turner
Statues of John Clare and Chris Turner

Nevertheless they rather neatly sit at either end of the Peterborough cultural spectrum that I wrote about last month, poetry at one end and football at the other.

The first statue I visited was that of John Clare at the Clare Cottage in Helpston. I was there, along with my friend Peter Lee, giving a presentation on Clare to members of the Civic Society. John Clare (1973-1864) is one of the country’s finest poets and, before you see the word ‘poet’ and turn the page, he is nationally and internationally known.

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His poems are simple, straightforward and accessible and mainly deal with nature, the countryside and the simple feelings of love, longing, desire and loss that we all experience at one time or another.

The second statue that I visited was that of Chris Turner (1951-2025) who was player, captain, manager, chairman and owner of Peterborough United from the 1970s through to the 1990s. Chris is revered by Posh supporters for his no-nonsense approach to the game as well as his leadership skills. The statue stands proudly outside the London Road ground and is a reminder to all those who visit the ground of the passion, loyalty and sense of belonging that football generates.

There are some surprising links between Clare and Turner. Their statues are both situated at places that are

places of pilgrimage for their admirers. Yet these places are only open for a short period each week. Clare Cottage

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is open on Mondays and Thursdays and the London Road stadium is generally open when a Peterborough United

team is playing at home. Both venues can be opened when there are special events, meetings, performances or

concerts.

Both Clare and Turner, although much appreciated in their lifetimes, have gained considerable respect and admiration since their deaths and serve to remind us of the best aspects of being English. On a lighter note, in later life Clare was incarcerated Northampton General Lunatic Asylum. He hated it there and in fact once walked all the way back home to Helpston. Turner, having been a Posh player, manager and owner would have also noted fans’ antipathy towards Northampton!

The epithet on Clare’s grave in Helpston churchyard reads, ‘A poet is born not made’.

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Perhaps a similar moniker applies to Turner, ‘A great footballer is born not made’.

One final thought. Perhaps Peterborough people, as well as visitors to our city, would be far more curious about both John Clare and Chris Turner had their statues been placed on Cathedral Square. Now there’s a thought!

Hot town, summer in the city

Back of my neck getting dirty and gritty

Been down, isn’t it a pity?

Doesn’t seem to be a shadow in the city

All around, people looking half dead

Walking on the sidewalk, hotter than a match head

So wrote the Lovin’ Spoonful’s John Sebastian 56 years ago, in 1966.

I’m not sure if he was writing about Cathedral Square but he could have been. I have to confess that the recent 40 degrees was a little too much for me and, on a more serious note, there surely have to be serious concerns about summers and the change in climate in the future. We have been warned!

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Much has been written about the malfunctioning of the fountains on Cathedral Square. . Whatever the reasons, Cathedral Square is a metaphor for Peterborough itself – an imposing space, bounded by impressive historic buildings – the Cathedral and Guildhall. People sit around on benches surrounding the space patiently waiting for something to happen, perhaps a performance or even the reinstallation of flower beds or hanging baskets. They have heard rumours of something stirring underneath. This may even be the much-vaunted fountains although these may in fact be the stuff of legend. To quote John Clare,

“So I try to seek pleasure

But vainly I try;

Now joy’s cup is drained

And hope’s fountain is dry.”