Cutchacutchoo prevailed, but no wicked tales are told of our Duchess's Viceroyalty. Once only did she descend from her pedestal of dignity: it might be that the breath of frolic was too strongly in the air for even a Saxon nature to resist. Anyhow she did repair to the Irish Ranelagh Gardens to see the fun, disguised in the dress of one of her own waiting-women. She was of course recognised, and mobbed.
Isabella, Duchess of Rutland.
(From the Picture by Sir Joshua Reynolds.)
On another occasion, her jealousy was excited by hearing the Duke say he had accidentally seen the loveliest woman he had ever beheld. She never rested until she found out the residence of this Mrs. Dillon, and forced her way into her presence, when a glance told her she was both beautiful and virtuous. Ashamed of her suspicions, she frankly told what had brought and warmly invited the other to return the visit. This, however, Mrs. Dillon had the good sense and dignity to decline.
In Mr. Gilbert's interesting history of Dublin he mentions that the body of the Duke was waked (according to the Irish custom) in the House of Lords for three nights. The coffin was then carried by bearers to Christ Church Cathedral, where it lay in State. The Duchess returned to England, and never married again.
