January 24th.—Went to the Grove on Friday, returned yesterday; Lord Auckland, Emily Eden, John and Lady John Russell, Charles Buller, and Charles Villiers; pleasant enough. Charles Buller very clever, amusing, even witty; but the more I see of him the more I am struck with his besetting sin, that of turning everything into a joke, never being serious for five minutes out of the twenty-four hours, upon any subject; and to such a degree has he fallen into this dangerous habit, in spite too of the remonstrances and admonitions of his best friends, that when he is inclined to be serious, and to express opinions in earnest, nobody knows what he is at, nor whether he means what he says. He goes on as if the only purpose in life was to laugh and make others laugh. He perpetually seeks to discover and point out what is ridiculous or what can be made so in other people, and his talk is an incessant banter and sarcasm, certainly very lightly and amusingly mixed and dished up. John Russell is always agreeable, both from what he contributes himself and his hearty enjoyment of the contributions of others. We talked a good deal, of course, about Ellenborough and his proceedings. Auckland told us that he had been convinced he was mad from the moment of his landing, for he seemed to have worked himself up during the voyage to a pitch of excitement, which immediately broke forth. The captain of the ship he went in was so shocked at the violence he occasionally exhibited, and the strange things he said, that he on several occasions sent his youngsters away, that they might not hear him, and he was strongly impressed with the conviction that he was not in his right mind. He said to Auckland, 'that he should come Aurungzebe over them,' and repeatedly he used to say, 'what a pity it was he had not come to that country twenty years before, and what he should have made of it if he had.' This, too, spoken with perfect complacency to the man who had been governing it for seven years, and after the many eminent men who had preceded him! He told Auckland he intended to turn out the Royal Family from the Palace at Delhi and convert it into a residence for himself. Auckland suggested to him that the fallen representative of the Mogul Emperors had long occupied this vast habitation, which was rather the portion of a town than merely a palace; that there the family had increased till they amounted to nearly 2,000 souls, besides their innumerable followers and attendants, and it would not be a very easy or advisable process to disturb them. Ellenborough answered that it did not signify, out they must go, for he should certainly install himself in the Royal residence of Delhi. Since their departure from India, the letters they have received confirm the impression his conduct made. His talk is inflated with vanity and pride. He says he is not like an ordinary Governor of India, but a Minister, a President of the Board of Control, come there to exercise in person the authority with which he is invested.
It was just as I was starting for the Grove that I heard of the assassination of Edward Drummond,[54] one of the most unaccountable crimes that ever was committed, for he was as good and inoffensive a man as ever lived, who could have had no enemy, and who was not conspicuous enough to have become the object of hatred or vengeance to any class of persons, being merely the officer of Sir Robert Peel, and never saying or doing anything but in his name, or as directed by him. It is almost impossible that in his official capacity he can have offended, or even apparently injured, anybody, and as the man assigns no reason for what he has done, and does not appear in the slightest degree deranged, it quite baffles conjecture to account for the commission of such an enormity.
January 26th.—Poor Drummond died yesterday morning, and I never remember any event which excited more general sympathy and regret. He was informed the night before of his hopeless condition, which he heard with great composure, and he was sensible almost to the last. There never was a man who, according to every rule of probability, was safer from any chance of assassination. He was universally popular, much beloved and esteemed by numerous friends, and without an enemy in the world; of moderate but fair abilities, a cheerful, amiable disposition, and, entirely without vanity or ambition, he was content to play a respectable but subordinate part in life, which he did to the perfect satisfaction of all those with whom he was connected. The extreme strangeness of the event, and the absence of any apparent cause for the commission of such a crime, have given rise to various conjectures, the most prominent of which is the notion that he was taken for Peel. I utterly rejected this at first, because I thought the assassin could so easily have made himself acquainted with the person of Peel that it could not be true; but a circumstance of which I was reminded yesterday (for I had before heard it from Drummond himself, but forgotten it), has changed my opinion. When the Queen went to Scotland, Peel went with Lord Aberdeen, or in some other way, no matter how, but not in his own carriage. He sent Drummond in his carriage, alone. In Scotland Peel constantly travelled either with the Queen, or with Aberdeen, and Drummond continued to go about in his carriage. I well remember his telling me this, and laughing at the idea of his having been taken for a great man. It has been proved that this man was in Scotland at the time; and if he saw, as he probably did, Drummond in a carriage which was pointed out to him as Sir Robert Peel's, he may have very naturally concluded that the man in it was the Minister, and he may therefore have believed that he was acquainted with his person. For many days before the murder he was prowling about the purlieus of Downing Street, and the Duke of Buccleuch told me that the day he was expected in town, and when his servants were looking out for him, they observed this man, though it was a rainy day, loitering about near his gate, which is close to Peel's house. If therefore he saw, as he must have done, Drummond constantly passing between Peel's house and Downing Street, and recognised in him the same person he had seen in the carriage in Scotland, and whom he believed to be Peel, he would think himself so sure of his man as to make it unnecessary to ask any questions, and the very consciousness of his own intentions might make him afraid to do so. This appears to afford a probable solution of the mystery, but if it should turn out to be true, it still remains to discover what his motive was for attacking the life of Peel.
DRUMMOND MISTAKEN FOR PEEL.
January 29th.—The man who shot Drummond, it now appears, acknowledged that it was his intention to shoot Peel, and thought he had done so. He said so more than once. Graham, whom I sat by at dinner yesterday, told me that he considered it a very doubtful case, very doubtful what view the jury would take of the question of his insanity. He has certainly been under a sort of delusion that the Tories have persecuted him, but in no other respect is he mad. If the law as laid down by Chief Justice Mansfield in Bellingham's case, and as it was laid down in that of Lord Ferrers, prevails now, he will not escape; but unfortunately Denman (in ignorance probably of these dicta) laid down very different and very erroneous law in the case of Oxford, and though his authority is worthless when compared with the others alluded to, it is the most recent, and that is by no means unimportant. It will be a very serious thing if he escapes, and Graham agreed with me, that if this happens sooner or later some dreadful catastrophe will occur. Some man or other will be sacrificed of much greater consequence than poor Drummond. It would be a great evil too, as well as a great absurdity, that the law on such an important question should be decided by such a man as Denman, who, though very honest and respectable, has not the slightest authority or weight as a lawyer. There never was in all probability a Chief Justice of the King's Bench held in such low estimation. It is one of the greatest evils of the way in which political influences work in this country, that we have never any security for having the ablest and fittest men promoted to the judicial office. We have seen in this century Erskine, Brougham, and now Lyndhurst, Chancellors; for the latter is now not much more competent than the other two were; and we have a man at the head of the Common Law with hardly a smattering of law in his head, and not looked up to by a single man in the profession.
We had our Sheriffs' dinner last night at Lord Wharncliffe's, and, what does not often happen, a great dispute about one nomination. Three men were named for Bucks, none of whom made excuses, but the Duke of Buckingham wrote a private letter to the Lord President, stating that the first two were unfit, and the first a mere grazier, who had been put on the list by the Lord Lieutenant (Carrington) and his lawyer as a mere job; the third man was unobjectionable. Wharncliffe and Lyndhurst proposed to pass over the two first, as the Duke suggested, and take the third. Peel, Graham, and Stanley remonstrated, and said that it was improper and irregular to pass over a man whose name was given in the usual way, and who made no objection to serve, on account of the interference of a person who had no right or business to interfere. It appeared too that the Duke had made the same objection to the Judge (Alderson), who had nevertheless given in, or left on the roll, the name of the gentleman. After a great deal of discussion it was resolved to pay no attention to the Duke's letter, and to appoint the first on the list, very much to my satisfaction, because this was the proper and the regular course, and I was glad to see the Duke of Buckingham treated as he ought to be. He is resolved, as he is not Lord Lieutenant in title, to make himself so in reality. Under Lyndhurst's administration of the Great Seal, he has succeeded as far as the magistracy is concerned, and he tries to do the same with respect to every other department. I was glad to hear Peel treat his interference so properly as he did.
OPENING OF PARLIAMENT.
February 7th.—The Parliament opened last week tamely enough. The Speech was like all other speeches, saying nothing, and the Opposition had already resolved not to propose an amendment. The Duke of Wellington spoke with extraordinary vigour, and surprised everybody. He is certainly a much better man in all respects this year than he was two years ago, mind and body more firm. He boldly announced his intention to defend Ellenborough against all assailants, and declared that he approved of every act he had done. Auckland spoke remarkably well, in a very gentlemanlike and creditable style, and succeeded in putting himself well with the House without going at all into his case. At present everything promises an uneventful session. There will of course be a certain amount of skirmishing and a vast deal of talking, but it is very unlikely that there will be anything seriously to embarrass the Government.
February 9th.—Wharncliffe told me the day after the Speech that he thought they should have no trouble about anything but about Ellenborough, whose case would embarrass them, and he expected the vote of thanks to him would be contested. He added, however, that he expected Ellenborough would come home. 'Why?' I asked. 'Because he would not think that they supported him sufficiently.' 'What more could they say or do than they had done?' 'Yes,' he said, but he would not be satisfied, nor think they supported him as he had a right to expect, and though they should not recall him, he thought it exceedingly likely he would come away in the summer. From this I inferred that, while they took up the cudgels for him in public, privately they had sent him a reprimand, and told him what all the world thought of his conduct here. On consideration, I think they could not help supporting him, unless they could find serious fault with any of his acts, and of them they highly approve, except indeed the Gates of Somnauth, which is an act, as it has proved, of no small consequence, for it has done just what the Duke of Wellington apprehended, exasperated the Mahomedan population. They were placed in a very difficult position, and perhaps the best thing they could do was to defend him and reprove him. But whether they have done this latter as strongly as they ought or not, I have no idea that he will resign and come home. Melbourne says they were quite right to defend him as they did. I saw yesterday the copy of a long letter which the Duke has written to him, in which he rather hints than expresses his own disapprobation, but leaves him to infer it, when he tells him how his Proclamations will be assailed here, and earnestly begs him to be extremely cautious as to what he says and writes for the future. He does not mince the matter with respect to Pollock, of whose proceedings he highly disapproves, and he says that he thinks they shall have much greater difficulty in proposing the vote of thanks to him than to Ellenborough, on account of the atrocities he perpetrated and permitted, and which were done against the advice and opinion of Nott. He mentions especially the storming of Istalif and the destruction at Cabul. With regard to this latter, he says he ought to have known that no such havoc could be made without every kind of disorder and outrage being committed by the troops, and that if Pollock chose to order such a thing to be done, he ought to have attended with one half of his army, in order to keep the other half within the bounds of discipline. He was also very angry with them for not having taken all the necessary precautions to prevent the insult that was offered to the rear-guard on its retreat. He entered into great details about various matters of Indian policy, and he alluded to the probability of the Governor-General's having very soon to counteract some French intrigue or other, for he said that the French Government were now busily employed in attacking our influence and undermining our interests in every quarter of the globe when they could find the means of doing so; that they despatched agents for this purpose (of various descriptions) in every direction, and he had no doubt Ellenborough would before long hear of some French agent in the regions about the Indus, probably attempting to establish some relations with the Sikh Government. He expressed some suspicion (I fancy without any cause) of General Ventura, and alluded to his having recently seen Louis Philippe at Paris. When he talked of the necessity of Ellenborough's caution in his public documents and private talk, he inveighed very bitterly against the free Press of India, and said, with an exaggeration to which he has been latterly rather prone, that this Press had produced a tyranny more insupportable than the Spanish Inquisition in its worst times. It was, on the whole, a remarkable letter, though not quite so good as he would have written in his best days.
RATIFICATION OF THE AMERICAN TREATY.