The Sun.
London, England, 1862-02-17 00:00:00

LITERATURE.

The Private Diary of _Richard, Duke of Bucking-
ham and Chandos. 3 vols. Hurst and Blackett.
Second Notice.
The noble duke who was the author of these in-
teresting volumes was the father of the late and
grandfather of the present holder of the title. The
financial perplexities of the house of Buckingham
have unfortunately been long existing and gene-
rally known. It was owing to the state of his
affairs that the writer of the diary before us was
compelled to travel for a time in order to facilitate
the necessary retrenchments in his splendid esta-
blishments. How the embarrassments commenced
under which the ducal resources finally collapsed,
says the preface, it is not necessary to explain in
the present work, but the editor goes on to remark
that they unquestionably existed before the writer
of this diary acquired his title. " His father had
lived with princely magnificence; his expenditure
in the luxuries of art and literature was enormous;
and the munificent spirit with which he main-
tained the itoyal Family of France and its nume-
rous followers, during their residence on one of
his estates, not only drained his exchequer, but
burthened him with debt. Neither Louis XVIII.
nor Charles X. took the slightest notice of the ob-
ligation they had incurred—apparently regarding
such imprudent generosity as the natural acknow-
ledgment of their exceeding merit. But with their
benefactor the evil of pecuniary embarrassments
increased year after year, till it became imperative
that his expensive establishments should be re-
duced, and that he should go abroad till his large
estates could be nursed, so as to meet the heaviest
and most pressing demands. The duke was a mem-
ber of the Yacht Club, and now had a new yacht
built, named by him the Anna Eliza, in which he
purposed taking a long voyage. No member of
his family accompanied him, and his suite, inde-
pendent of the officers and crew of the vessel, con-
sisted only of his secretary, chaplain, surgeon, and
a few domestic servants." On this solitary and
melancholy journey the Duke set forth with no
very cheerful feelings. He describes his last visit
to the gardens of Stowe with the Duchess, whose
grief at quitting the old family seat was more de
monstrative, though not deeper than his own. A
few days later he bade farewell to the spot, endeared
to him by so many recollections, and makes the fol-
lowing mournful entry :—" July 11th. This is a
very heavy day with me, people pressing me on all
sides with business, and my heart longing to be
alone, God's will be done !—but my mind is very
low, and I cannot look at the scene of my child-
hood, manhood, and age, for perhaps the last time,
without a very, very bitter pang. Some feelings,
too, of sorrow swell in upon me and help to over-
whelm me. But although I have cause for regret,
I have none for self-reproach. My country and my
neighbours have been the better for my money.
No unworthy pursuit has consumed it. With a
little management, and the blessing of God, I may
yet recover and pass what age God gives ire in
comfort. My reason tells me all this, but my feelings
fight against my reason and prostrate my strength.
Reports from London state the situation of the
Ministry to be anything but as satisfactory as
Ward asseverated it to Chandos, at the Quarter
Sessions, to be. Canning and Lansdowne are said
to be at war, and that Canning cannot redeem his
pledge about the Catholic Question. If this be so,
the whole Government will fall to pieces. Both
parties are trying to get the Duke of Gordon. He
is nibbling at my house. I close the evening by a
melancholy drive and visit to all my dear scenes.
Adieu, dear, dear Stowe !-12th. My grandchildren
took leave of me, and the little girl was deeply
affected and cried. Even the little boy repeatedly
bade me good-bye. My old servants could not
speak, but grasped my hand in silence as I passed :
and thus I left my poor dear old residence of my
fathers." This ancestral home seems to have
been much cherished by the Duke, who
mentions the mournful impression made on
his mind while on board his yacht in the
Mediterranean by a strange and startling dream.
He thought that he once more revisited Stowe,
and found all deserted—every room as he had left
it, but desolate and uninhabited. The precision
and fidelity of the dream haunted him for long, and
net without reason, for the vision was realised,
though not in his own time. The traveller lingered
in London to take leave of the King, and intro-
duces sundry comments on the political manoeuvres
then going on, which, to confess the truth, were not
very creditable to those engaged in them. It was
during the time of Canning's Premiership, when
selfish opposition and unpatriotic partisanship were
embittering his brief tenure of the high seat he had
so long sought and was so well fitted to fill. The
Duke's sympathies, however, were not for the
harassed Minister, or for the baulked ambition of
the noble Duke, whose finessing had lost him the
game. It was for his own disappointment that he
felt most keenly. He had hoped to have been
offered a high post in the Government, which
would have enabled him to combine the inevitable
absence from England with the dignities and emolu-
ments of office. The rulers of India and Ireland,
however, were both appointed without any regard to
the House of Buckingham, and the consequent
disappointment added another pang to the Duke's
defeature. But though such painful thoughts
must have saddened all his voyage—and mourn-
, ful reflections often arise in the midst of his
graphic descriptions—it was impossible for a man
of the Duke's intelligent mind and cultivated
taste not to be somewhat distracted from his
troubles by the interesting scenes he visited.
After leaving England his first landing place
was Gibraltar, and among his descriptions of the
port we find the following anecdote :
TUE "TAKING OF GIBRALTAR"
I always thought that to have defended Gibraltar as
Heathfle!d did was the greatest achievement of which man's
life is _capable ; and now I found myself upon the spot
where all that glory had been achieved, whichin the early
spring morning of my days had filled my young mind with
admiration. I remember, too, how often the present King
of France, Charles X., had told my father and me the story
of his being summoned to meet almost all the Catholic
princes of Christendom, and all the flower of the Frew h
and Spanish armies, as to a party of pleasure, to see the
" taking of Gibraltar," where various amusements, and
bull-fights, and balls, were provided to while away each day
of anxious expectation, when the propitious morning at last
arose which was again to plant the flag of Spain upon the
walls of Gibraltar. So certain did they consider them-
selves of conquest, that dinner and a ball was prepared at
Algesiras for General Elliot and his officers when made
prisoners. At length the Spanish batteries moved down,
constructed with all the care that science could bestow and
art invent. The Academie Francaise contributed its labours
to improve upon these mighty engines of destruction—and
they moved down, the monuments of the combined science,
as well as anger of Europe, united against this ono object
so near to the vanity, so dear to the interests, of the parties ,
engaged in the attempt. The princes witnessed the scene
from the first parallel, and the surrounding hills were
crowded with the population of the country, fancying even '
the reality of the visionary existence of the Queen of Spain

in her chair, who had vowed to remain there until she saw
the standard of Spain float upon the walls of the fortress
she called her own. In a few hours all was dust and
ashes, and the few survivors amongst the assailants owed
their lives to British generosity and humanity. On the
next day the Spanish and French princes got into their
carriages and returned home, parseque rag air avait
manque. He attributes the burning of the floating batteries
very much to the tin tubes which were inserted in their
sides, "like veins in the human body," and which were
intended to communicate with reservoirs of water, which,
pumped through them by forcing 'pumps, would, as they
calculated, keep a strong stream of water meandering
through the sides of the vessels, and thus prevent the hot
shot from breaking out into a flame.

Of the island of Malaga he does not give a very
pleasing picture. The system of the Government
was then one of comprehensive prohibition, and the
frequent quarrels found a reaiy arbiter in the
knife. When the French were in possession of the
island they checked this evil by forbidding the
Spaniards to wear the large dark cloaks, which so
effectually screened the murderous weapon. When-
ever an assassination was committed they seized
the assassin and the first Spaniard of the lower
class whom they met, then throwing a noose over
the culprit's head, made his unexpected executioner
hang him to the first tree. The proud Spaniards
consequently found the use of the knife less satis-
factory and abandoned it. The traveller touched
at several other places on his route to Italy, and
then landed at Palermo after some difficulties owing
to the quarantine regulations. A boat kept guard
by rowing round the vessel, whose owner shrewdly
suspected their intentions with regard to the pro-
visions hanging over the stern. At Palermo things
were then managed in a curious fashion.

A WEALTHY LARDER.
My apartment is splendid as all the palazzi are; but this
Is furnished with a degree of English taste and comfort
which seldom attends Italian splendour. The town presents
a melancholy scene of splendour and misery: nothing can
be finer than the fronts of the palazzi, nothing more
wretched than the interior. The nobility live entirely in
Palermo, except just at this moment, when they are in
Villagiatura, but have not the means of repairing the
houses they live in. Almost all let part of them. Few
keep any servants, except the footman and coachman, who
are hired by the day or week, to convey them to the man-
sion : even the Viceroy contracts with a cook to furnish his
table, at about half-a-crown English per head ; and when
he gives a splendid dinner he increases it to 3s. 6d. each.
The cook enters, brings the dinner in a fiacre, warms and_
shakes up his casseroles, serves it up, and carries off every—
thing in the hackney coach the moment the dinner is over.
The Consul was dining with Prince Belmonte at his
magnificent palazzo, about a mile from Palermo. Dinner
was just over, when it Baron Somebody, who hsd been ex.•
pected, and who had been unavoidably detained, arrived.
" Ah, taro Barone—have you dined r'
ct
" Oh, ring the bell I Cook, any thing in a minute for il.
Barone. Make haste I"
In came the maestro della casa :—" Scuta mi, Signora
Princessa, but the chef is gone and nothing can be dressed."
Well, but then some cold meat ?"
" Signora Princessa, scurate me, but the cook has taken
away everything."
And not a morsel could be got or was got for it Barone I
—and this at the house of the riceest man in Sicily. Such
is their mode of living.
A lengthened account of the lunatic asylum which
was conducted by a Baron Pisoni on philanthropic
principles, is very interesting. He discriminated
carefully between the unhappy patients, and adap-
ted even the furniture of their rooms to their
peculiar tone of mind. Each lunatic's fancy, if
harmless, was indulged; if a man thought himself
a king he was allowed the insignia of royalty, if a
poet he was permitted to scribble, if a soldier he was
put into uniform. The Baron, when he entered on
his duties as superintendent, found every inmate
heavily chained and violently treated. One victim
was bent double by wearing chains for five and
twenty years, Under the new regime he walked
about happy and harmless. The success which fol-
lowed this treatment was surprising, and the system
pursued is worth the attention of the physiologists
of the present day. The duke, who was no insi gni-
cant zoologist, gives the following curious account
of an unpleasant neighbour :