Jamie Stone MP reflects on his Irish heritage this St Patrick's Day
Jamie Stone is the Liberal Democrat MP for Caithness, Sutherland and Easter Ross and the chair of the House of Commons Petitions Committee.
Dear Old Ireland…
When I was growing up on the shores of the Dornoch Firth in the Scottish Highlands, I had hardly even heard of the place – although I might have heard of a leprechaun.
At uni, I met a nice girl who told me that she came from the Emerald Isle. I remember trying to charm her and, in my ignorance, I confused Belfast with Ulster, blissfully unaware that one was a city and the other was a province. I thought I’d blown my shot – and I may not have given it a second thought, but for the fact that one day I married that very same girl. That started a twice yearly visit to her home, the county of Armagh, bang on the border between Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland. It was a voyage of discovery, one that continues all these years on.
One thing I discovered was that my grandmother – who my mother had always assured me came from a reputable Scottish family – was in fact of Irish descent. This lineage included an ancestor who had once been a doctor in Dublin (his nickname was ‘stirabout Gus’ – a reference to the fact that in the late 18th century he prescribed porridge ‘stirabout’ as the cure for all ailments). Why had the Irish blood in my veins been so unacknowledged? I’m still yet to find out.
In more recent times, as our children got bigger, we as a family have stayed with my kind sister-in-law and her husband in a small holiday home in the remote northwest of County Donegal in Éire. To be precise, on the Fanad Peninsula overlooking Lough Swilly. A more remote and romantic part of Ireland it would be hard to find.
Now me being me, when I’m in Ireland, it is only really right and proper that I drink one or two pints of Guinness. And so it is that one evening I found myself in the Lighthouse Tavern, just where the Falad Peninsula punches northwards into the wild Atlantic. One evening as I raised my pint, one of my nephews and nieces took a picture of me with my brother-in-law sitting beside me in the bar. More of that picture anon.
Only a year later in 2017, I was surprised to find myself elected to the House of Commons. It would be fair to say that the House of Commons was equally as surprised to get me. I learnt that they had been rather badly caught and hadn’t had time to prepare a security pass for me in the event of my being elected. Apparently a mad scramble ensued to find my picture and prepare a pass in the knowledge that I could well be on the next train south from Inverness.
As I write this, I look at my security pass. It is that same picture of me in the Donegal pub which they had found online – albeit, with my brother-in-law, the optics and the darts trophies all cropped out. Over the ensuing years, I have been greatly touched to learn that the pub now takes a close interest in what I say and do in Westminster. Beyond this, most of the people in that remote part of Ireland had heard of the late Charles Kennedy and had taken some pleasure over the years in noting his success and ascent in UK politics.
That is the point about what I write in this piece. Little known to me as a child, but the fact is that the connections between the Irish Celt and the Highland Celt – between Gaelic in Ireland and Gaelic in the Highlands is not just strong but goes back way beyond living memory.
So as I sit here in my office on St Patrick’s day, I am reminded that a wee part of Ireland is with me whenever I stand and speak in the Chamber. I celebrate today with a proud personal commitment and also on behalf of my wife and three children – who all have strong Irish blood in them.
Happy St Patrick’s Day!
Image credit: UK Parliament – Creative Commons
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