1 APRIL 1955, Page 18

An English Grandmother

BY MORAY McLAREN MR. JOHN SMITH announced that the toast of the London and South of England Press Club would be proposed by Mr. Alexander MacGonnegal, the Minister of Information. Mr. MacGonnegal had travelled down that day from his Ministry in Edinburgh at some incon- venience in order to be present at this function. (Applause.) But the Minister had informed him (Mrs Smith) that, incon- venience or no inconvenience, he always looked forward to and enjoyed a visit to England. Indeed, he had said that in a sense he felt that in coming to the South he was coming home, for he (Mr. MacGonnegal) had had an Enghill grandmother. (Loud applause.) Mr. MacGonnegal then rose to propose the toast of the club. He was indeed proud to admit, nay, to affirm, that one of his grandmothers had been English. It was something that he never forgot and frequently mentioned in his speeches, and not before English audiences only. But then how many of our prominent men today had not had English grandmothers, or at least some English connections amongst their forebears. It was the sturdy English strain strengthening and counter- balancing the more adventurous and fanciful Celtic Scottish qualities of the predominant partner in the Union that had hdlped to preserve the British Empire in its early and forma- tive years. Scotsmen never forgot that, though it might have been they who had blazed the trail of Empire, it was the patient, hard-working—some said unimaginative (but he, Mr. MacGonnegal, did not agree to that description)—English qualities that had done much to consolidate the glorious work of the early Scottish pioneers. (Applause.) The Minister of Information then drew attention to the number of Englishmen holding high positions in public life today. In particular he mentioned his friend the present. Speaker of the House of Commons at Parliament Hall in Edinburgh. What an asset to a man in such a position was the possession of a homely Cockney accent! (Some murmurs of dissent.) He begged his hearers' pardon: he should have said a homely English accent. (Laughter.) At any rate, by whatever name it was called, it was an accent that at once drew attention to itself and made everyone even in a large legislative assembly pay attention. Mr. MacGonnegal here gave some impressions of the English accent of his friend the Speaker and ventured upon two English funny stories. They were listened to in embarrassed silence.

Mr. MacGonnegal, whose reputation as a public speaker has been largely enhanced by his sensitivity to audience reaction, quickly recovered himself. He said that he had never believed nor paid much attention to the myths about the English character which had been propagated by the factory for making English jokes and English comic stories, and by the comedians who had made capital out of these alleged English absurdities and failings on the music halls. Mr. MacGonnegal hoped that his hearers would forgive him, but he must point out that the responsibility for disseminating the reputation of these English comic characters and jokes must rest partly on the English themselves. After all, was it not the English poet Shakespeare who had invented the character of Falstaff? Had not many other English writers attempted to imitate this character, and had not innumerable English comedians spread over the world the Falstaffian idea of an Englishman? Nevertheless, he (Mr. MacGonnegal) had never found the English gross over-eaters, coarse, unimagina- tive and insensitive to beauty. No, that had not been his experience. But then (he added with a smile) perhaps that was because he had had an English grandmother. (Laughter and applause.) With one of those quick transitions from gay to grave for which the Minister of Information is so well known, Mr. MacGonnegal then went on to deal with the recent agitation for English Homc Rule. He implored his hearers not to be taken in by the specious arguments of the extremists who were demanding a Parliament in London. What need was there of a Parliament in England when there were so many Englishmen in prominent and, key positions in Edinburgh? He added, with a characteristic flash of extravagant Celtic humour, that when he looked round at his English colleagues on the Government benches, he sometimes wondered whether he would not be justified in asking for Home Rule for Scotland. (Loud laughter.) Mr. MacGonnegal begged his hearers, and through them those whom they influenced by means of the provincial Press, not to forget the facts of history. One could not put the clock back. (A voice : 'Why not? We do it once a year.') At any rate, the clock of history could not be put back. When James VI, upon his succession to the thrones of the two king- doms in 1603, had decided to stay on in Scotland and send a regent 'to act for him in England, he may have been actuated by timorousness, but willy-nilly (if they would excuse the phrase) he had determined the shape into which the country of Britain was to grow and form itself in the ensuing centuries.

This was a historical fact. and could not be gainsaid. And he thanked goodness for it. If what now seems incredible had happened, and the seat of government had moved from its present place, comparatively near to the centre of the island, down to the south-east, would not the effect have been disastrous? The population would not have been, as it is now, evenly spread, but would have been drawn in vast quantities into a vulnerable corner at the bottom end of the island.

Mr. MacGonnegal then reverted to his main task of the evening, and in a few words proposed the toast of the London and South of England Press Club. In the course of his remarks he gave much praise to the provincial Press of Great Britain. When he was interrupted by a voice with a strong Middlesex accent saying, 'London still is the capital of England,' Mr. MacGonnegal quickly corrected himself and thereafter referred to the London and provincial Press.

At the conclusion of his speech the Minister was vigorously applauded. The evening wound up with the singing of a popular old music-hall song, 'There'll always be an Englairid.'