WILKES'S diary

John Redwood finally went to Buckingham Palace this week to surrender his seals of office as Welsh Secretary. I wonder what her Maj had to say. Does she have a soft spot for Michael Heseltine? Did she gossip about Major? Wilkessuspects she was on Redwood's side all along, following his promise to retain the Royal Yacht at the taxpayer's expense. Although naturally a bit of a soggy centrist, Elizabeth R must have noted that it is the Tory right who would look after her interests most attentively.

ER had been kept informed of events at Westminster through her personalised cable channel, otherwise known as Mr Sydney Chapman. Sydney, formerly and formally known as Vice-chamberlain of Her Majesty's Household, was the Tory whip whose duties included a handwritten account of the week at Westminster, passing to the monarch the kind of hot insider information normally only available in this diary. But - alack! - our Sydney has been fired. He was one of the less-noticed casualties of the Majorite reshuffle.

His symbol of office was a long white stick or wand. In the old days, when a Vice-chamberlain left office, the monarch was expected to break the wand of office over her knee. Sydney tells me that while ER was chatting to him, she quietly reached over, unscrewed his wand into two halves and gave it to him to be inscribed later. A touching little ceremony, and, by the standards of Conservative Britain, quite humane.

My friends inside 10a Downing Street say that Hezza actually picked his office on Tuesday last week, the day before the reshuffle. I am assured that the Lion King marched into the Cabinet office, and having been repelled by Sir Robin Butler, the Cabinet Secretary, selected the big conference office. The next day, he set about snatching the brightest civil servants for his own use, including a speechwriter and senior civil servant. Roger Freeman has been left with the private office staff he has inherited from David Hunt. Hezza decided that they, like David Hunt, were surplus to his requirements.

Anybody who thinks that Hezza's powers are limitless should consider the unsung importance of Tony Newton. As the smoke clears from the reshuffle, there, once again, is Mr Newton - unflashy, efficient, straight, and absolutely loyal to John Major. Newton, leader of the Commons, retains the chairmanship of the pivotal Home Affairs Cabinet committee EDH, and in the words of one right-wing minister with no great love of Mr Newton's (leftish and pro-European) views: "Tony is a much bigger player than most people realise. He gives us airtime, but will make sure the Prime Minister gets what he wants. And if he makes a mistake - which isn't often - he owns up to it, unlike most people."

One of the sights that most took Wilkes aback during Malcolm Rifkind's statement on Bosnia was the unaccustomed spectacle of Douglas Hurd sitting on the backbenches. No, ''sitting'' is wrong. Like the gentleman he is, Hurd had chosen a modest perch a few rows back. But he is tootall for the backbenches. His long legs were jumbled untidily around him, like a giant spider huddled in a toybox. After so many years of sprawling happily on the front bench, he looked terribly uncomfortable. It must be like travelling in the tourist seats at the back of the jumbo jet after years of luxuriating in first class.

Meanwhile - bloody hell, that Peter Bottomley fellow will be the end of me. We - the Major faithful - were enjoying our moment of victory in 13 Cowley Street, the Prime Minister giving forth on the brilliance of our campaign, and up pops PB with a silly grin on his face and a camcorder on his shoulder. He recorded the whole thing. Naturally, we were appalled at the fellow acting like a member of the paparazzi. What makes matters worse is that the Prime Minister's speech is certain to turn up on some ghastly video programme with Jeremy Beadle. As if that were not bad enough, Bottomley P paraded the bloody thing about the next day, recording Virginia's Sad Day, when she was moved in the reshuffle from Health to National Heritage. He had the camcorder whirring at Virginia's last health press conference, and no doubt caught the moving moment when she kissed hands with the Prime Minister.

I sympathise with the poor devils who will be invited to the Bottomleys for Christmas. They are going to be showing Virginia's Year on the home video on Boxing Day. Pardon me while I stick two fingers down my throat.

Keith Mans, VB's PPS, had to inquire at one of the offices in Whitehall to find out the address of her new office, the Department for National Heritage. The staff had no idea. Then a helpful British Telecom chap said he knew where it was, because he had put in the phones, and what was more, he could give him a lift. Mans duly made it to the Department of National Heritage at Trafalgar Square, for his first ministerial meeting, in a BT van. As the PM said the other day, it's amazing what a bit of privatisation can do.

John Major's attempt to scupper the prospects of Michael Portillo by abolishing the Department of Employment has unintended consequences for the Labour Party. Greville Janner, the Labour chairman of the now-defunct Employment Select Committee, this week sidled up to his Labour colleague Richard Caborn, chairman of the Trade and Industry Select Committee, to ask him to co-opt him on to his committee. Mr Caborn's reply could not be overheard, but a couple of days later Mr Janner announced his decision to retire as an MP at the next general election. Meanwhile Harriet Harman, shadow minister now without portfolio, has been active, collaring Wilkes at every opportunity to insist that the minimum wage won't cost jobs and nor will the Social Chapter. She grimaced when congratulated by colleagues for destroying not just a Secretary of State but an entire department. Shadowing the flashy Portillo helped to get her into the centre of the media action; now she is just a little concerned about this autumn's Shadow Cabinet elections.

William Hague, the new Welsh Secretary is planning his holidays ... in Wales. Good boyo, William. His "getting to know you tour" is being carried out incognito. "I will popping up in the most unexpected places," he has been telling friends. He intends to stay in bed and breakfast establishments run by the traditional landladies of Wales.