A Political Diary, 1828-1830, Volume II — Inside the Classic

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Authors: Ellenborough, Edward Law, Earl of, 1790-1871, Colchester, Reginald Charles Edward Abbot, 3d Baron, 1842-1919 [Editor] Digital Source: Project Gutenberg Gutenberg Release Year: 2004 First Publication Year: Not confirmed

Key Word: Great Britain -- Politics and government -- 1820-1830 Target Reader: Readers of public-domain and historical texts

Book Edition: Project Gutenberg digital edition Book Language: en

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Words 115,457

Reading time 502 min

Text sections 11

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Source: Project Gutenberg record #10693

Ellenborough's diary entries from April 1829 record cabinet debates, Wellington's political maneuvers, and the King's declining health, with sharp observations on parliamentary procedure and ministerial tensions.

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umberland was at Windsor. He wanted to write to him to ask if he had any objection to his taking the office again.

Bankes said he had attended none of the meetings at Lord Chandos's. He had avoided as much as he could all communication with the Duke of Cumberland. He had fully determined not to take a part with any new Government which might be formed, unless it should clearly appear the King had been unfairly dealt by, or unless there should be an attempt to make peers to carry the Bill. The Duke of Cumberland had always said that he made him his first object, and he had reason to think that he had mentioned him to the King, and had been instrumental in his appointment. The Duke of Cumberland had desired him to come to him (during the Bill), and had apparently intended to name some particular office for him, but seeing his coldness had only sounded him, and had received the answer I have mentioned above.

The Duke of Cumberland had told him it was an understood thing that all were to be restored, and that he saw no reason why he should not take his office again.

_This was ten days ago._

I told him I advised, if he thought it necessary to write to the Duke of Cumberland at all, that he should merely state his intention to take his office back again, refer to his conversation with the Duke himself upon the point, and add _distinctly_ that, taking office, he could no longer have any communication on political matters with a person who had declared his hostility to the Government.

I advised him to send off his own servant on a post-horse at six o'clock to-morrow morning, with a letter to the effect I have stated to the Duke of Cumberland, and whether he received an answer or not, to go to the Duke of Wellington and accept at 12.

I advised him to tell the Duke the whole state of the case, and all he had done.

The Duke of Wellington did not seem by any means well to-day. He was blooded yesterday.

Cabinet at 3. It seems Bankes called on the Duke this morning, but he was engaged. I told him all that passed between Bankes and me last night. If Bankes should go out the Duke means to offer his place to Sir J. Graham.

We met upon foreign affairs. Aberdeen read his instructions to Gordon, who goes to Constantinople. They are unobjectionable.

We then considered what was to be done in consequence of this second violation of their word on the part of the Russians in blockading Candia.

Count Heyden has written two letters to Sir Pulteney Malcolm. In the first he justifies the blockade of Candia on the ground of its being necessary to protect the Morea from the Pacha of Egypt; in the second he rests it on the necessity of blockading the two extremities of Candia for the purpose of watching Constantinople.

We cannot permit the Russians to make fools of us in this way--to promise one thing as parties to the Treaty of London, and to do another as belligerents.

After the Cabinet I asked the Duke whether he still wished me to press Courtney upon the Directors. He said, Yes, he very much wanted his place. I said it had occurred to me that _Herries_ might take the Governorship of Bombay. It did not seem to have occurred to him. He said he thought Herries would not go; but he evidently thought it would be a very good thing if he would.

The Duke said he wanted to have the places of Courtney and Sir G. Hill, and to bring in Lord Chandos and M. Fitzgerald. We mentioned Ashley. I suggested Ashley's going to the Treasury, and Sir J. Graham taking his place. This would, I dare say, be done, if we could get the place at the Treasury.

I have not as yet heard a surmise as to the new Lord Privy Seal.

Lord O'Neil has signed the Duke of Richmond's protest against the Franchise Bill. It is very hostile to the Government, and Lord O'Neil will probably be put out.

The Duke of Richmond has been very imprudent. Had he taken a moderate line he probably might have been Privy Seal. His time is now gone by.

Went by appointment to see Lady Jersey. Found there Duncannon and Lord Sefton. Duncannon talked big about O'Connell's power, and in the same sense in which he talked to Fitzgerald, wishing to induce the Government to let him take his seat. I said we could not. It depended not on us, but upon the law.

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The diary entries for April 1829 open with a striking blend of procedural minutiae and high-stakes negotiation. Ellenborough records the Duke of Wellington's direct appeal to the King over raising galleries in the House, then shifts to the practical difficulty of having them installed by the next day. This juxtaposition of grand political maneuvering with mundane logistical constraints recurs throughout the volume, revealing the texture of early nineteenth-century governance.

Ellenborough's voice is clipped and observational, rarely pausing for reflection. He notes the Bishop of Chester reading prayers shortly after his wife's death, adding dryly that another bishop might have relieved him. Such asides, scattered among debates on the Franchise Bill and foreign policy, give the diary a distinctive, unpolished immediacy.

Cabinet Dynamics and Personal Friction

Ellenborough's entries capture the internal tensions of Wellington's ministry with unusual candor. At a cabinet dinner at Peel's, he reports that after the Duke left, Peel regretted Wellington's having expressed anxiety to relieve himself from obloquy as a reason for pressing a bill. Ellenborough notes the strategic consequence: 'The Duke having said so, we could not back him out.' This moment reveals how a single public statement could constrain the entire cabinet's rhetorical options.

Similarly, Ellenborough observes Aberdeen's independent handling of the Candian blockade, lamenting that Aberdeen 'never looks forward to the ultimate consequences of his measures.' The diary thus functions as a record not only of decisions but of the personalities and missteps behind them. Ellenborough's own interventions are sparse but pointed; when Lord Durham assumes the government's stance on the East Indian monopoly, Ellenborough corrects him sharply, insisting no determined opinion has been formed.

The King's Health as Political Weather

The King's declining health pervades the April entries, treated less as a personal tragedy than as a variable in political calculation. Ellenborough records clinical details—'His pulse is in a weak state. He seems oppressed by fat'—alongside their institutional effects: the drawing-room and levee postponed sine die, and Peel's speculation that the King's death would trigger a dissolution of Parliament.

When the Duke shows Ellenborough a letter from Halford describing water and the King's alarm, Ellenborough concludes bluntly: 'From the letter I should say he could not live many weeks.' The diary's tone remains detached, even as it tracks the King's symptoms with the precision of a physician. This clinical gaze extends to other figures: the death of Sir W. Seymour prompts the remark, 'Really the mortality amongst judges is awful.'

Parliamentary Procedure and Its Discontents

Ellenborough's diary offers a granular view of parliamentary mechanics. He records making the second reading of bills an order of the day at Lord Malmesbury's and Lord Grey's desire, noting that while more formal, 'the second reading might have been equally well moved without it.' Such observations demystify legislative process, showing how procedure could be used to signal opposition or delay.

The East Retford case appears as a recurring thread, and Ellenborough attends the trial of Serjeant Kearney for assault. His description of the Recorder as 'an old twaddle, who talked half the time with the accused' is a rare moment of open contempt. The diary thus balances technical detail with sharp character judgments, giving readers a sense of the personalities who shaped parliamentary life.

Foreign Policy and the Limits of Foresight

Ellenborough's critique of Aberdeen's handling of the Candian blockade illustrates his concern with strategic foresight. He outlines a chain of consequences: if an English ship is warned off by a Russian vessel but persists under expectation of indemnity, Britain would have to pay; if convoy is given and persists, 'we should come to blows.' The passage is a model of clear-eyed analysis, contrasting with Aberdeen's apparent complacency.

Elsewhere, Ellenborough notes the loan to Leopold for Greece—sixty millions guaranteed by the three Powers—and observes that Leopold has 'obtained almost all he asked.' The diary's treatment of foreign affairs is episodic but pointed, always tethered to the immediate political calculus. Ellenborough's voice, skeptical and precise, makes these entries valuable for understanding how ministers weighed risks in the late 1820s.

Readers approaching this volume should attend to the gaps between entries as much as the entries themselves. Ellenborough does not explain every reference or resolve every tension; the diary assumes familiarity with the political landscape of 1829. The value lies in its unvarnished record of how decisions were made, how personalities clashed, and how the machinery of government operated under pressure. For those interested in the texture of high politics, this is a primary source of rare immediacy.

That afternoon, the rain blurred the window, and Ellenborough’s grumbling about the King’s pulse felt almost intimate. I closed the diary, restless, and let my hand drift along the shelf. It landed on Albert Ballin — Reading Notes, another man watching a world he knew dissolve. Different century, same quiet arithmetic of power and loss.