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Time for another journey into the past with Netflix’s The Crown! This recap covers the ninth episode of season one, “Assassins.” If you’ve missed any previous recaps, you can catch up here!

We begin with a helpful note that it’s 1954. Lord Porchester (later the 7th Earl of Carnarvon) has made his way into disagreeable central London for an important date: he’s asking his girlfriend, Jean Wallop, to marry him.

Jean’s wearing a lovely era-appropriate necklace and earrings, and she wants to accept his proposal, but she’s nervous that he’s still carrying a torch for her.

And by “her,” she means the Queen. Porchey and Elizabeth are old friends from the racing world. Porchey claims that he doesn’t carry a torch for her, and besides, she was only ever interested in Philip. Meanwhile, Elizabeth waits at Buckingham Palace for her drunken louse of a husband to come home.

He staggers in, and she pretends to be asleep. Things are just peachy in the Mountbatten-Windsor marriage.

The Churchills are in the country at Chartwell. Clemmie takes a telephone call from Jock Colville about Winston’s 80th birthday celebrations.

He’s painting in the garden, and she comes out to tell him about the artist, Graham Sutherland, who’s been chosen to paint his birthday portrait.

Churchill will also undoubtedly be thrilled that Anthony Eden has arrived back in England, all better after his recent surgery in America.

We also get our first look at Lady Eden: Clarissa Spencer-Churchill. Clarissa was Eden’s second wife; she also happens to have been Winston Churchill’s niece. All in the family!

While his wife-to-be is taking a bath, Porchey takes a call from the woman he’s definitely not holding a torch for.

Elizabeth wants to talk horses. If she was nervous in previous episodes about her lack of knowledge, it’s clear here that she’s almost an expert on racing, and Porchey is her close confidant and equal in that field. And she’s lonely.

Graham Sutherland arrives to paint Churchill’s portrait. He’s blustery, as per usual, talking about art and accuracy and truth. Clemmie, who has a brooch on in this scene, is mostly amused. After Sutherland leaves, the Churchills discuss him. Winston thinks Clemmie has a crush, and she says he’s quite right. She tells him that he shouldn’t be worried about the portrait, because she thinks this painter isn’t “an assassin.”

Meanwhile, at Royal Ascot, the Queen’s horse, Aureole, is triumphant. She’s wearing the “inspired by” bow brooch, and she is beyond excited.

Philip is so bored and annoying that he can’t even be happy about it. Also, he’s clearly jealous of Porchey.

Margaret, in her pearls and her sunglasses, is the only one who notices.

The horse gets a hero’s welcome back at the stables.

Porchey and Elizabeth reminisce, getting all nostalgic about the late king and his equine instincts. They discuss the possibility of running the horse in an American race. Porchey’s against it, and Elizabeth’s surprised, because she knows his girlfriend is American. Porchey tells her that he’s engaged now, and that she’d approve of her. Elizabeth wants to meet her.

Margaret arrives, smoking a cigarette on a white horse, as Porchey leaves. She calls him “the one who got away” from Elizabeth, who thinks she’s mad. It’s too bad Philip doesn’t like horses, Margaret says. She also insinuates that he’s fooling around with other women.

Eden arrives to see Churchill, who makes him wait. Eden wants him to stand down. Churchill says he will, at the right time. There’s shouting and growling. There’s also a confusing time reference; Eden says that “two months ago” Churchill was effectively dead. The stroke happened in episode seven; episode eight included the entire Commonwealth tour, which was almost six months long. The time continuity in this show is just the worst. The meeting ends when Sutherland arrives to work on the portrait.

Sutherland has brought his wife, Kathleen, to assist as he sketches. Churchill is a mess as they get started, both figuratively and literally. Sutherland even has to smooth down Churchill’s hair. There’s lots of discussion about art supplies and experience and things. Churchill wants to prove that he’s a better painter, so there’s lots of empty boasting, until the PM eventually just falls asleep. He eventually wakes up and tells Sutherland that he wants the portrait to be flattering. These “Churchill gets painted” scenes are awfully lengthy.

At the palace, Elizabeth is playing solitaire while wearing the “ribbon” brooch and pearls. She takes a call from Porchey. He’s got a report on Aureole, but first he complains about how long it takes to put in a call to her. She offers to get him a direct line.

Later, Philip wants to know all the monetary details of putting Aureole out to stud.

Elizabeth, who is wearing her rings while she moisturizes, is sort of exasperated with his questions.

Philip needles her more by comparing the horse to Porchey’s father, Lord Carnarvon, who had supposedly had so many affairs that he’d sired an entire generation of British aristocrats. And then he goes off to gallivant with Mike Parker again.

Back to Churchill, who has tracked down samples of Sutherland’s modernist work. And then cut to Sutherland, who is perusing a book of Churchill’s paintings. Each tries out the other’s style. When Sutherland comes back to work on the portrait for a final time, Sutherland asks him for silence. Churchill agrees, and then talks incessantly. Then they talk about Churchill’s paintings and Sutherland’s analysis of the emotions they evoke. And then Churchill asks about Sutherland’s paintings, and they do the dance all over again. Eventually, they start talking about a child each has lost.

At the stables, Elizabeth’s engagement and wedding rings are on display as she waits for Porchey to arrive. They look at three different mares and basically play matchmaker for Aureole.

We skip ahead to Churchill’s 80th birthday: November 30, 1954. He gets a glass of champagne and an enormous cake. He blows out precisely one candle.

With her pearls on and a drink in her hand, the Queen Mum watches Churchill’s car drive through London on television.

Michael Adeane joins the Queen at the palace to watch the Westminster Hall celebration on television.

At Westminster Hall, Clemmie helps Churchill climb the stairs before he can give his speech. We cut back and forth between Churchill and others watching it on television. He jokes about standing down and about the modernist painter of his portrait. Churchill also reminds everyone that the portrait Sutherland painted represents Churchill, the office of the prime minister, and the entire government. The painting is unveiled, and Churchill scowls. Sutherland looks humiliated. (Churchill really did hate the portrait, but in real-life, he got to see it before it was unveiled.)

We get a quick shot of Clemmie’s earrings as she worries about his reaction.

Churchill jokes about the “fine, patriotic piece of modern art,” and the Queen, in her pearls, shakes her head in response. Churchill is, after all, inserting the individual into the moment rather than the institution. Not good.

Churchill ends up rejecting the painting, and Sutherland goes to Chartwell to confront him. Churchill just hates it, because it makes him look frail and vulnerable and old. Churchill wants to look young and sprightly, basically. Sutherland points out that it would be unwise to reject it, because it was commissioned by parliament. Churchill spits that they should have chosen a better artist. Sutherland asks him to take some time to think about it, and that it’s not his fault that Churchill looks old, because Churchill is old.

Churchill orders Sutherland out, and then he pouts a little with his look-a-like painting.

Later, Clemmie wears pearls as Churchill admits to her that Sutherland was right about everything. He’s going to stand down. Clemmie thinks it’s a good decision. (In real life, this happened in April 1955.)

Churchill meets with the Queen, who wears the “bird” brooch as she accepts his resignation.

Churchill, who always insisted on standing during audiences, sits and chats with Elizabeth over a cup of tea. She praises his long service to the nation and thanks him. Eden will take over.

In a fatherly gesture, Churchill kisses her on the forehead before he leaves, and she is teary-eyed when he goes.

Eden’s car pulls up right behind as Churchill’s departs. The two men shake hands as they officially pass the baton of government power.

Afterward, the Queen and the Queen Mum discuss appropriate tributes for Churchill. Renaming London Airport? Too impersonal. The Queen Mum suggests that Elizabeth and Philip could pay a great compliment by going to a dinner at Downing Street. Elizabeth says she’ll ask Philip. Her mother says she should tell him, not ask him.

At the stables, Philip sort of “hmmms” about the dinner. They’re waiting to see if their horse match-making pays off. He and Porchey sort of stare weirdly at each other. The horses are, well, compatible. Philip makes lots of loud jokes, Elizabeth does lots of shushing, and then she congratulates Porchey. Lots of heavy-handed metaphors in the writing of this episode, guys.

Marital bliss.

Back at the palace, Elizabeth dresses for the dinner at Downing Street. Wearing the Lover’s Knot Tiara and Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee Necklace (with the earrings that the production made to “go” with Queen Alexandra’s Wedding Necklace), Elizabeth scolds Philip for thinking anything’s going on with Porchey. She notes that marriage to Porchey might have been easier, but she’s only ever loved Philip.

She asks Philip if he can honestly say the same. Dressed in his Garter finery, he says … nothing.

At the dinner we get tiaras here…

…and tiaras here as the Queen toasts Churchill.

Clemmie wears the same strange floral tiara they had her in at the coronation.

At Chartwell, Sutherland’s portrait is burned. In real life, Clemmie did have the portrait destroyed, and the card at the end of the episode notes that it’s generally considered to be a lost masterpiece.

It’s Monday morning, which means it’s time for another installment of our recaps of The Crown! Today, we’re talking about the eighth episode of season one, “Pride and Joy” — an episode that plays fast and loose with historical timelines. If you need to catch up on any of our previous recaps before reading, head over here!

We open the episode with a jewelry moment we’ve seen over and over again this season: a royal woman sitting while her dresser puts on her pearls. This time it’s the Queen Mother, and she’s clearly upset as her royal pearl uniform is fastened in place.

She calls her daughters in for a meeting, and the reason for her distress becomes clear: she was supposed to speak at the unveiling of the new memorial to George VI on the Mall, but she doesn’t feel she’s able to do it.

Princess Margaret, who wears pearls with dark earrings, immediately volunteers. Why? She likes making speeches, and after all, she was Bertie’s favorite.

Over Margaret’s protests, the Queen asserts herself as head of the family, and says that she’ll be the one making the speech. She’s also in her pearly uniform here, with one of the “inspired by” brooches. (This is the one that I usually call “the bird” in my notes.)

Everyone gathers at the new memorial for the unveiling of the statue. In real life, this event took place in October 1955. (None of the events shown in the episode fit together in terms of a real timeline, so don’t bother trying too hard to reconcile them.) Here’s newsreel footage from the actual unveiling.

The Queen wore the Williamson Brooch at this event in real life; here, she’s in another of the “inspired by” pieces (the one I call the “ribbon brooch” in my notes).

Princess Margaret looks bereft in her pearls and dark earrings.

The Queen unveils the statue which — bless the poor thing — looks more like Martin Freeman from Sherlock than either Jared Harris or King George VI.

The Queen Mum wears pearl earrings, a single-stranded pearl necklace, and a dark mourning brooch. She gets teary-eyed as the statue is unveiled, and then she abruptly departs in a waiting car.

We cut to Churchill in a meeting, watching footage of anti-British protests in Gibraltar. They’re in the middle of planning for the Commonwealth Tour, which began in November 1953 and lasted until April 1954. (Told you the timeline is seriously off in this episode!) There’s a lot of disagreement about whether the Queen should go to Gibraltar at all. Michael Adeane thinks not; Churchill, being Churchill, thinks they shouldn’t back down.

Elizabeth is in the midst of another part of the tour planning: she’s at Norman Hartnell’s studio to discuss the wardrobe.

She wears the “bird” brooch as she expresses astonishment that they couldn’t be a bit more economical in the number of pieces they’re taking along.

But Hartnell says that he has orders straight from the government to make sure they keep up appearances.

Also in wardrobe mode: Philip, who is having fittings for new dress uniforms. He’s typically grumpy about the whole thing, dismisses the uniforms as “costumes,” and calls the upcoming tour the “Commonwealth roadshow.” Even after the televised coronation, he apparently still hasn’t figured out how much monarchy relies on theatrics.

Over at Clarence House, the recently-retired Tommy Lascelles has stopped by to discuss the Queen Mother’s role while Elizabeth and Philip are out of town for nearly six months. She’s one of the counsellors of state, and she’ll be filling in for the Queen in various official capacities during the lengthy tour. (The other counsellors at this point in time were Princess Margaret, the Duke of Gloucester, the Princess Royal, and the Earl of Harewood.)

But the Queen Mum, who wears her pearls in the scene, is struggling. She wants Margaret to take over the job instead. (This is all fictional. The Shawcross biography of the Queen Mother makes it clear that she exercised her role happily throughout the Queen’s Commonwealth tour, conducting audiences with ministers, receiving ambassadors, and holding numerous investitures. She also helped to look after Prince Charles and Princess Anne.)

But in this fictional universe, the Queen Mother packs up, even before the Queen embarks on the tour, and heads to Scotland. Wearing her pearls, she encourages Elizabeth to let her sister shine in her absence.

Elizabeth is in her jewelry uniform: pearls and the “ribbon” brooch. You’ll remember that the last major encounter we saw between Elizabeth and Margaret ended with a threat over the telephone, so her reluctance should not be surprising.

Meanwhile, Margaret is already getting ready for investitures. She makes Elizabeth help her practice her knighting skills.

She’s wearing a pair of era-appropriate gold earrings for the scene. (As mentioned above, Margaret was also a counsellor of state, and she did help with official duties, including holding seven Privy Council meetings jointly with the Queen Mother.)

Elizabeth and Philip leave from London’s airport for the start of the tour. (This places us in November 1953, a full two years before the George VI memorial was opened.)

Elizabeth’s wearing the “inspired by” bow brooch as Churchill boards the plane to bid her farewell — and to remind her, for the umpteenth time, that people want to see the Queen, not Elizabeth Windsor. “Let them see only the eternal,” he says Churchill-ly.

The other Queen Elizabeth — the Queen Mum — has thrown off the shackles of monarchy and escaped to Scotland, where she’ll be staying with her friends, Clare and Doris Vyner. (The slight hairstyle change makes her look about 20 years younger here.) The visit depicted here actually happened in June 1952, a full year before the coronation.

The Vyners understand that the Queen Mum is grieving and needs an escape, and they provide one in the form of extremely picturesque seaside horseback riding.

At dinner, Elizabeth talks about the different kinds of loss she’s recently experienced. This is one of the first times that the series lets her discuss at length what it feels like to be queen for almost two decades and then, out of the blue, to not be queen anymore. I feel like these Scotland scenes would have been far better placed in one of the earlier episodes of the season. Her perspective was sorely lacking there. (And they would have been more historically accurate time-wise, too.)

Doris Vyner (played by Caroline Goodall, who appeared in The Princess Diaries and The White Queen) sympathizes, wears an era-appropriate brooch, and mentions that the castle next door is for sale.

The Commonwealth Tour officially kicks off in Bermuda. The younger Elizabeth wears a pearl necklace and floral earrings to make a speech.

We see Bobo McDonald fiddling with the necklace once more as Elizabeth rushes to change into her next outfit, like an actress backstage at a play. Everything is timed carefully to the minute, which, as you can expect, is irritating Philip mightily.

I believe we’ve got the “bird” brooch in this quick scene, where everyone’s already exhausted. (You’re still at stop #1! You’ve only just started, people!)

Philip is exhausted and Elizabeth is wearing pearls as they fly to their second stop, Jamaica.

Margaret watches newsreel footage from the tour on television as a footman drops off a speech she’s scheduled to give at a diplomatic reception. We get a glimpse here of early ’50s gold earrings.

But Margaret’s unhappy — the speech sounds too dry, way too much like the Queen, and not enough like Margaret. She wears her version of the pearly queen uniform to propose changes to Martin Charteris, who carefully explains that the text has been carefully crafted and shouldn’t be altered.

Margaret’s fairly drunk on power, though, and the speech isn’t the only thing she’s dissatisfied with. She starts off wearing the tiara from the coronation — the one that isn’t the Cartier Halo — but takes it off, asking if she can wear a different one instead. More specifically, she wants one of her sister’s.

This scene was just so bothersome. First, Margaret asks if she can wear “the State Diadem Tiara” — meaning, presumably, the George IV Diamond Diadem. (You can’t call something a “diadem tiara.” It’s redundant. It’s like rectangles and squares: all tiaras are diadems, but not all diadems are tiaras.) Only queens consort and regnant wear the diadem; it’s one of the heirlooms of the crown. I don’t think Margaret would ever have dared, even the weird, angry Margaret we see depicted here.

Second, she proposes the “Cambridge Lover’s Knot Tiara.” I’ll forgive the production that mistake, because so many people still refer to Queen Mary’s Lover’s Knot Tiara by that name. That tiara, at least, is the Queen’s personal property. The dresser tells Margaret that she can’t wear either, but Margaret insists that the Queen won’t mind.

I’m not sure it really is, but that portrait above the curio cabinet sure looks like Young Queen Mary, glaring angrily down at this discussion of royal jewelry. Someone really needs to mail Peter Morgan a copy of Hugh Roberts’s book on the Queen’s diamonds, if nothing else.

You can guess what Margaret shows up at the reception wearing…

Yep, it’s the production’s version of the Lover’s Knot Tiara. (I don’t recognize the necklace or earrings here as deliberate royal replicas. If anyone else does, let me know in the comments!) I don’t think Margaret ever wore this one publicly, but that’s sort of the point here: she’s not supposed to be wearing it, and she knows it.

The other thing she’s not supposed to do? Change the speech. But she does, adding a bunch of cringe-worthy, flowery prose at the beginning, and then putting in a bunch of rather pointed jokes.

Here’s the ambassador of Greece and his tiara-clad wife; Margaret jokes that the Greeks’ contributions to society include her brother-in-law.

Martin sees this diplomatic stand-up trainwreck happening and is powerless to stop it. Poor Martin. Margaret’s lucky she only has to deal with Charteris in this case. Tommy Lascelles would definitely have tossed her in the Tower.

Margaret, though, is very happy with her performance, and we get a good look at her necklace as she calls Peter to tell him all about it.

The British papers are pleased with Margaret’s entertaining speech, too. Elizabeth reads all about it while she’s nearly strangled, once again, as her pearls are put in place.

She also clips on her floral earrings. Philip accuses her of being jealous of Margaret, and he assures her that they can always count on Margaret to screw things up eventually. This does not make Elizabeth feel better.

She’s just exhausted. They’re in Australia now, which means that time-wise, this is late December 1953 or early January 1954. As the car drives past crowds, she struggles to keep smiling, even while wearing her “ribbon” brooch.

In fact, she smiles so much that she develops a muscle spasm in her face! Rather than slow down, she chooses to have an injection to relax her muscles. Philip is just incredulous that Elizabeth won’t cancel any events or slow down at all.

Meanwhile, in Scotland, the Queen Mother tours the castle next door to the Vyners’ house. She’s delighted when the eccentric owner doesn’t recognize her; he thinks she’s a famous actress. (Again, monarch/theater/acting/etc.) The castle is pretty much falling down and doesn’t even have electricity. She loves it.

Margaret wears pearls as she talks to Peter, who has just seen footage of her visiting a mine. He suggests that she needs to be more careful about what she says. (She questioned the safety regulations of the mine she visited.)

Peter has a right to be worried. Churchill, frustrated with Margaret’s unwillingness to stick to the script, comes over and essentially fires her. He’s going to call the Queen Mum back from Scotland. They have a conversation that largely rehashes the discussion between the Queen and Tommy Lascelles from the last episode about individuality and the monarchy.

In Australia, Elizabeth and Philip come very close to disrupting the carefully-planned narrative themselves. She wears her pearls as they argue, tired and frustrated with the never-ending tour. Philip threatens to have a cigarette, and then he accuses Elizabeth of trying to gain her dead father’s favor by going through the grueling tour.

Elizabeth explodes at him, throwing glasses and tennis rackets. Philip runs away from her — right into the range of the cameras sitting outside. Elizabeth has to go out and speak with the cameramen, who decide to give her the newsreel footage, saving her from wider public embarrassment.

In Scotland, as far away from the public gaze as can be, the Queen Mother buys the castle for the pricey sum of 100 pounds. (This very real transaction happened in the summer of 1952. Just as the episode shows, the castle’s owner initially tried to give the castle to her, but ended up selling it for that low price.)

She and Captain Imbert-Terry, the castle’s owner, are walking back to the Vyners’ house when someone from the PM’s office tracks her down and explains that she needs to head back to London immediately.

We skip to April 1954, when the Commonwealth Tour entourage was heading to Malta. Elizabeth wears gold earrings as she and Philip disagree about whether they should go to Malta. She insists that they’ll go.

Refreshed and pleased with her real-estate purchase, the Queen Mother arrives back at Clarence House, pearls firmly in place.

She’s just in time to watch Margaret watch the Queen’s arrival in Gibraltar through a haze of cigarette smoke.

And then, we jump forward in time yet again, to May 1954. Elizabeth and Philip are back at the palace, where they’re reunited with Charles and Anne. (In real life, the kids met them in Malta.) I’m disappointed with the quick, glossed-over way this lengthy tour was handled. If the fog got its own focused episode, surely the tour could have, too?

After a brief meeting with Churchill, Elizabeth summons Margaret. It’s a scene very reminiscent of the scoldings we saw at the end of episode seven.

Margaret comes in wearing her version of the pearly queen uniform yet again, but the conversation reveals that Margaret has fundamental misunderstandings about the role of the monarch. Building on conversations had throughout the season, Elizabeth explains that the monarchy should shine, not the monarch.

They have a back-and-forth about who has the worst life — it’s all very “grass is greener,” with Margaret wishing she had clearer rules and Elizabeth wanting more freedom. They also squabble a bit about who was George VI’s favorite, and they remember that he called Elizabeth his “pride” and Margaret his “joy.” In the end, they walk away without resolving much of their tension.

But you know who doesn’t give a hoot about any of it? The Queen Mother! She apparently headed straight back to Scotland. Forget the palace. She’s got a castle of her own now.

We’re back in government mode for episode seven of Netflix’s The Crown, but we’ve still got a few jewels to discuss here and there. If you’ve missed any of our earlier recaps, head over here! (And then come back to this post to discuss “Scientia Potentia Est” — which, fittingly, means “knowledge is power.”)

We begin with a brief flashback, this time to Windsor Castle, ca. 1940. The planes and barrage balloons overhead are reminders that war was raging in Europe, and British RAF pilots were attempting to save their country from the Luftwaffe during the Battle of Britain. (One of those pilots was, of course, Peter Townsend.)

Little Princess Elizabeth gets to ditch her etiquette lesson at the castle to pop over to Eton, where the Vice-Provost is instructing her on the finer points of the British constitution. Their discussion here focuses on the relationship between the government and the monarchy (the “essential” and the “dignified”). He explains that the relationship only works when the two sides trust each other.

Back in 1953, Elizabeth is having tea with her mother at the palace.

The Queen Mum, wearing pearls and her rings, is perusing the Daily Express. She brings up Albert Einstein — the looming threat of nuclear war hangs in the background of the entire episode, beginning with that visual of the barrage balloons — but neither she nor the Queen really know what he does, aside from a general understanding that he’s a scientist.

Elizabeth, wearing a single strand of pearls, pearl earrings, and one of the “inspired by” brooches, laments that she’s not better educated.

The Queen Mother, though, doesn’t see anything particularly wrong with that — it’s just the way things are. We get a better look at her triple strand of pearls and pearl cluster earrings in this view.

Tommy Lascelles comes to fetch the Queen for her audience with Churchill. On the way, they discuss his impending retirement. Elizabeth is dismayed and a little confused to learn that he’ll be replaced by Michael Adeane (his most senior deputy) rather than the more junior Martin Charteris. (Martin, you’ll remember was with Elizabeth when she became queen in Kenya.)

The corgis have been keeping Churchill company in Elizabeth’s absence. Mostly they’re watching him doze on the couch while he waits. He’s not in good health.

Regardless, he’s very worried about the Soviets and nuclear weapons. The Queen’s lack of wide-ranging education strikes again — he has to explain the basics of the threat to her. He’s sent Anthony Eden (the foreign secretary) to Washington to try to get the Americans to agree to a summit. (Churchill really was concerned with the nuclear threat, but again, the show is condensing and rearranging the timeline here. Churchill began pressing for this summit before the coronation.)

Churchill’s not the only one with health problems, though. Anthony Eden — who has fallen asleep here waiting for his meeting at the State Department — is extremely ill, thanks to a troublesome gallbladder. (This was also true, and it let Churchill take over more control as he basically took over Eden’s job, too.)

Back in London, Elizabeth steamrolls right past Tommy’s explanation about the “line of succession” for the private secretary job. Wearing another “inspired by” brooch and a triple strand of pearls, she invites Martin over for a conversation.

Here’s his face when she offers him the job outright. Wary, but also kind of excited. (Harry Hadden-Paton makes me miss Downton Abbey. PS: did you know that Harry’s real-life godmother is Sarah, Duchess of York?!? He’s not a stranger to this royalty business.)

The Queen also asks a favor of Martin — she wants him to find her a tutor.

After the meeting, Martin drives his wife, Mary, over to see the private secretary’s grace-and-favour apartment (where Tommy Lascelles still lives at this point, of course). In a classic case of measuring the drapes before buying the house, Mary asks Martin to have a tree trimmed outside the flat’s window.

Eden calls Churchill from America; he’s going to have to have surgery immediately. Churchill is furious that Eden’s health will delay the possibility of a summit. Eden, delighted that Churchill has revealed how important Eden is to the whole business, makes him tell him that he needs him over the phone. Churchill, promptly, has a stroke.

(Churchill really did have a stroke in 1953 — on June 23, to be more precise.)

At the palace, the Queen has no idea that her top two government officials are incapacitated. She’s doing her morning studying — take notes while reading The Sporting Life (a now-defunct racing paper).

Soon enough, though, the tutor that Martin has engaged shows up for their first meeting. Professor Hogg, who was nervous enough to swig from a flask before his arrival, asks Elizabeth to fill him in on what educational milestones she reached so that they can plan out their tutorial.

Elizabeth, rather ashamed, can’t give him any answers — she never took any exams or received any certificates.

Elizabeth is wearing her pearls in this scene, and as she has throughout the series, she pulls at the pearl necklace when she’s nervous. Here, the pearls begin to suffocate her when she confesses that she has trouble keeping up conversations with the people she meets as monarch.

She also wrings her hands during this scene, giving us a clear view of her rings and her watch. (The engagement ring still makes me sad.)

After their meeting is over, Elizabeth heads over to Clarence House, where she angrily confronts her mother about her lack of a formal education. The Queen Mum is in full Queen-Mum-mode, watching television and having a drink while wearing pearls, her rings, and a voluminous floral housecoat.

Elizabeth, who is wearing the “inspired by” bow brooch on her jacket, is highly critical, even when the Queen Mother points out that Elizabeth got a far better education than Margaret. (Yikes!)

The Queen Mother’s diamond ring flashes as she takes a drink here. The conversation devolves into an argument over what kind of education is proper — and who is a good parent.

Eventually, the Queen Mum rushes out of the room heads out of the room, leaving Elizabeth with her bow brooch and her thoughts.

Stuck in bed, Churchill makes Lord Salisbury and Jock Colville agree not to tell the Queen about his stroke. (If you recognize Colville’s name, it may be because he was the valiant man who traveled across London on the Queen’s wedding day to retrieve her pearls from the display of her wedding gifts.) Since Churchill and Eden are both incapacitated, Churchill has decided that the best course of action is to get Eisenhower to come to London. He wants the palace to dangle some state banquet bait in front of the American president.

None the wiser about Churchill, Elizabeth is back in the first “inspired by” brooch and her pearls as she works.

Tommy arrives to relay Churchill’s plan about the state banquet. The Queen is a little petulant about it — she’d wanted to go to Sandringham — but she eventually relents.

The press secretary succession problems continue, though. Michael Adeane has heard that Martin has been chosen as Tommy’s successor. Tommy figures out that Martin sent gardeners to trim that tree, and he is not happy about it.

State banquet preparations start in earnest, including my favorite: the footman who has to stand on the table with crazy mummy feet for polishing reasons.

Tommy calls Martin in to chastise him about both the job acceptance and the tree trimming. Nobody crosses Tommy Lascelles. Have these people not learned anything?

Meanwhile, the Queen is freaking out about having to meet and chat with President Eisenhower. She and Professor Hogg try to figure out a strategy, but he ends up needing time to research. Elizabeth only gets excited about any of this when she realizes that Hogg bets on horses.

Churchill has received a letter from the Queen telling him to recover quickly from his cold. Clementine, in her pearls, is appalled that they’ve kept this from the monarch. Then, Churchill finds out that Eisenhower has accepted the invitation to come to London, and he gets so worked up that he promptly has another stroke.

The banquet preparations are in full swing at the palace. (Here’s a true nerd moment from me, though: the setting is all wrong for a Buckingham Palace banquet. At BP, state banquets are held at a large, horseshoe-shaped table. The banquets with one long table are held at Windsor Castle.)

While everyone sets the (incorrect) table, Martin stops by to tell the Queen that everything has to be called off, because Eisenhower’s not coming after all. Much to Elizabeth’s dismay, he also turns down the private secretary job.

So Elizabeth rushes downstairs to confront Tommy about it. He gives her a lecture about tradition an continuity regarding all of the monarchy, including the staff. He also warns against “individualistic” decisions like the one she’s trying to make, where she’s thinking about her personal preferences rather than the health of the institution. Lascelles even gives her a rundown of the individualistic, egotistic decisions that Uncle David made that led to “rot” creeping in — and, eventually, the abdication.

Elizabeth is unhappy, but silenced on the matter. Even her pearly queen uniform is slightly askew.

As quickly as it was assembled, the banquet table is taken down.

With the private secretary mess still at the front of her mind, Elizabeth calls for her former private secretary, Jock Colville. She wants him to consult on the Adeane/Charteris issue.

But Colville, who works for Churchill now, thinks that she has found out about Churchill’s stroke, and he spills the beans. The Queen is furious that she’s been in the dark once again.

During a meeting with Professor Hogg, Elizabeth discusses her responsibility in light of Churchill’s incapacity. He encourages her to confront the government higher-ups, reminding her that all upper-class Englishmen respond well to scoldings from a nanny. To prepare for the meetings, Elizabeth sends staff to search all of the royal palaces for her notes from that meeting at Eton in 1940.

Churchill and Salisbury are quickly summoned to the palace.

The Queen asks for Salisbury first, making Churchill wait in the hallway. (It’s a different day, so she’s wearing a different dress, but the jewels are identical to the ones in the previous scene. They’re firmly part of her uniform here.)

She upbraids Salisbury for keeping the truth from her, using excellent words like “hampered” and “bamboozled.” She also drops a particularly excellent historical burn, telling him that she now doubts her father’s dislike of the old adage “never trust a Cecil.” (The Cecils have served monarchs since the days of the Tudors, to various degrees of loyalty. The 3rd Earl of Salisbury was involved in the Rye House Plot; the 4th Earl was locked in the Tower after the Glorious Revolution.)

Next, she summons Winston. He weakly enters the room and kisses her hand.

While she yelled at Salisbury, she pulls an even stronger move with Churchill — she’s disappointed. She feels betrayed by him.

She makes the Great Churchill cry! And with the help of her notes from Eton, she explains that she feels their trust has been broken — that crucial part of the relationship between monarch and government. She asks if he can continue. He says he doesn’t need to — she’s ready to move on without him now. But, you know, he’ll stay on anyway for now.

One person in the palace hasn’t gotten the memo about the cancelled state banquet: Philip, who has returned from a charity cricket match and gotten all gussied up, breeches and Garter and everything. He scrutinizes his wife and tells her that, somehow, she looks taller.

Here’s a look at his chest full of medals. Philip really did have all of these in 1953, and he has even more now.

Now that the banquet’s canceled, Philip proposes that Elizabeth schedule some personal time for him (except he says it in a much less family-friendly way).

Elizabeth agrees, even though she’s called Michael Adeane in for a meeting. He’ll have to wait until tomorrow.