England

Last week I attended a busy function in the Speaker's House —a set of grand apartments beneath the boom of Big Ben.

It was April 23rd, St George's Day. Mr Speaker was hosting members of the Society of St George — patriots of Englishness drawn from across the country, there to celebrate the great man's birthday.

Even if we set aside the mythical slaying of the dragon, St George was a great man. He was a Greek, born in the third century who joined the Roman army and was highly regarded by the Emperor Diocletian.

But in AD 303 his career took a turn for the worse when the Emperor decided that all Christians (including George) should worship Roman Gods. George demurred and was excessively tortured as a result — at one point his body being lacerated on a wheel of knives — an ordeal during which he had to be resuscitated on three occasions. He was then decapitated and effectively despatched for Sainthood.

St George was promoted in England during the Crusades and the flag (red cross on white background) started to receive real prominence during Edward III's reign when it was supposed that he assisted the English with their victory at Crecy — after which the Order of the Garter (incorporating the flag) was born.

St George's Day was a source of celebration in the Middle Ages although for many years after England's unification with Scotland in 1707 interest waned. It is good to see this interest revived more recently and that many celebrations now occur each year.

Mr Speaker made a gracious speech in support of the Society of St George and pressed the point that we should feel proud to promote our country. Like him I am proud to be British, but especially proud to be English too.