Knight of the Garter

When first this order was ordain'd, my lords, Knights of the garter were of noble birth, Valiant and virtuous, full of haughty courage, Such as were grown to credit by the wars ; Not fearing death, not shrinking for distress, But always resolute in most extremes.

--Henry VI Though Winston Churchill is not strictly of noble birth, few Britons better fulfill Shakespeare's qualifications for membership in England's oldest chivalric order.

This week, in the first Garter service of her reign, Britain's young Queen Elizabeth formally installed 79-year-old Sir Winston as a Knight Companion.

For the occasion, Churchill, the only living commoner in a company whose 31 other members include three queens, two kings, and two ex-kings, got himself rigged out in blue and crimson velvet, topped by a black hat adorned with ostrich feathers.

At a morning ceremony in the throne room at Windsor Castle, Elizabeth herself adorned him with the ancient insignia of the Order: the golden collar, the "great George," the "lesser George," the Star and the Garter itself, a band of dark blue edged with gold and embroidered with the famed admonition of Edward III, "Honisoit qui mal y pense."--Later, in St. George's Chapel, Lord Halifax, Chancellor of the Order, read aloud the new knight's name and style ("Sir"), and he was led to a stall hung with the lion rampant of the Churchills.

After half an hour of prayers and anthems, it was all over. Queen Elizabeth hurried away to prepare for Ascot Week festivities, and Sir Winston Churchill, K.G., returned to London and the humdrum 20th century business of being Prime Minister.

Reluctant Step. Throughout his 60 years of public life, Winston Churchill has managed better than any other Briton to suffuse the political scene with the spirit of knight errantry. But to those Britons whose business was the practical administration of day to day politics, the principal interest concerning the newest Knight of the Garter last week was when he intends to lay down his lance.

Weeks ago, Churchill had told his faith ful squire Anthony Eden that he intended to retire soon after the Queen's return from her round-the-world tour. He was mortally tired; he still had his great moments, but the aftereffects of a stroke last year had left him often unfit to conduct the daily business of government.

Retirement before Parliament rises in late July would give Eden a chance to take over smoothly as Prime Minister and pre pare himself for a possible general election either this fall or next spring. To defer his retirement until the very eve of an election and then let Eden bear the brunt of possible defeat would be a serious affront to Churchill's own rigid code of loyalty. For the best interests of all concerned, it was agreed that retirement should come on or about July 15. Yet, as the moment for quitting drew near last week, the old man still seemed loth to take the step.

Final Gesture. Developments in Geneva and Moscow had made Churchill's dream of a "parley at the summit" between himself, Eisenhower and Malenkov an impossibility. Last week, faced with the possibility of a complete breakdown at Geneva, and still dreaming of making the great contribution to peace that he had once made to victory, Churchill was seriously considering another supreme gesture: a conference with Eisenhower at Washington to patch up the badly shattered Anglo-American alliance. Such a conference would be bound to postpone the aged statesman's retirement at least until the fall, and perhaps later. Meanwhile, at Whitehall and Westminster and Downing Street, the papers were piling up, with the younger Tories powerless to sort them out. None was prepared to force him out, but all heartily wished he would make up his mind. "Not fearing death, not shrinking from distress," Britain's newest Garter Knight last week seemed somewhat less than "resolute in most extremes."

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