Duchess of Beaufort, in Berkeley Square, London, having been partially
estranged from her husband. On hearing of his illness, she started to
set out for Dublin; but a message of his death came fast upon the
trail of the first news. Perchance it was this estrangement at death,
this having parted in anger without the chance of reconciliation in
life, that affected her so deeply that, though sought by many suitors,
the widow was true to the memory of her late lord. Her son, John
Henry, succeeded to the title; and his bride, a daughter of the Earl
of Carlisle, was also known as a beauty, and her portrait was painted
by Hoppner, in 1798. It was she of whom Greville wrote in his Memoirs,
and commented on her lack of taste in spoiling the magnificent Castle
of Belvoir, the pride and glory of the Eastern Midlands.

The beauty of the Duchess Mary Isabella was statuesque, classical; her
features were noble. She received admiration as her right, but gave
not largesse of smiles and wit in return. She was not as the Devonian
divinity, "The woman in whose golden smile all life seems enchanted."

Wraxall writes of a lady telling of witnessing a prenuptial display of
her person, and being entranced by lithe limb, by the fine and
faultless form. Reynolds has hinted at the beauteous body, and the
hint ensnares us. Verily, "the visible fair form of a woman is
hereditary queen of us." Wraxall also likens the Duchess to an
older-time beauty, Diane de Poitiers,--that famous lady of France, the
favorite of François I. and Henri II. Of that lady's beauty, it was
written, that it was of the form and feature rather than the radiance
of the mind and manner transforming them; and like her, too, our
Duchess retained her beauty to an advanced age. She died in 1821. To
the last, she impressed one with her dignity, her nobility, her
loveliness.