Mr. Speaker

The Sergeant at Arms walked up the aisle, removed the heavy gold mace from the table before the Speaker's chair. A hush settled on the House of Commons. A clerk spoke, in flat tones: "It is with extreme sorrow I have to inform the House that Mr. Speaker died this afternoon."

Captain the Rt. Hon. Edward Algernon Fitzroy was 138th Speaker in a line dating back to 1377; none had died in office since 1789, when Charles Cornwall took the last of the great draughts of porter with which he was "wont to relieve the weariness of his office."

As Mr. Speaker, Edward Algernon Fitzroy did not have the political power of U.S. Speakers, but his prestige was greater. Like his U.S. counterparts, he was chosen by the majority party, but his tenure did not, as in the U.S. depend upon that party's staying in power. When he donned the wig he resigned from his party, could look forward to a lifetime job or (if he got too feeble) to a peerage when he retired. Like all good British Speakers--and there have been few bad ones in recent times--Captain Fitzroy had to become a political agnostic, impartially guiding the business of the House. In social scale he ranked next below the Prime Minister and the Lord President of the Council, before all peers of the realm except archbishops.

Captain Fitzroy was an aristocrat who faithfully followed the path of an upperclass son in politics. Educated at Eton and Sandhurst, he entered the House as Conservative Member for South Northamptonshire in 1900. He was wounded at Ypres in 1914, elected Speaker in 1928. The Scotsman justly called him: "An impartial president over debate, the guardian of the privileges of the House, the protector of minorities, and the defender of freedom of speech." Death came at 73, in the severely blitzed 50-room Speaker's House, directly beneath Big Ben.

House of Commons' tradition demanded that this cobwebby playlet be enacted this week: In the absence of a Speaker, M.P.s point silently to Anthony Eden or some other designated Member, who announces the King's wish that another Speaker be appointed. Two M.P.s propose and second a man agreed upon by Tories and Laborites. The new Speaker formally "protests his unworthiness," is then elected and conducted to the seat of Commons' authority. At this stage he wears a bobbed wig. The King is asked to approve the choice. When he does (in practice, he must), the Speaker may don a long, full-bottomed wig. Then, and then only, the House is constitutionally complete and able to proceed with Britain's business.

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