Hampshire Chronicle; 30 May 1836.

It is impossible to describe the feeling which the death of this amiable lady has created. The mournful procession left Stowe early on Monday morning, and rested at Ilsley the same evening. On the following day the corpse was met by her Grace's tenants some distance from Avington, who accompanied the first to her mansion, where it remained till the following morning. Notwithstanding it was her Grace's desire that the funeral might be conducted in the most private manner, the villages of Avington, Itchen, and the neighbouring parishes, arranged themselves two by two, and followed the corpse, as the last testimony of respect and regard they could pay to her unto whom they were so much indebted; and many of her friends who knew her worth voluntarily attended the solemn scene. Ten o'clock Wednesday morning was fixed for the funeral, at which hour the procession moved from the house to the Church, preceded by the Rector of Avington and Mr Lyford, the plumes being born before, and the coronet carried on a velvet cushion. The coffin, covered with crimson velvet, the ornaments silver gilt, called the following inscription:

The most noble lady Anna Lisa Brydges.
Duchess of Buckingham and Chandos, died on May 16, 1836, Aged 57.

The pall was supported by the Rev. Sir H. Rivers, Dr. Williams, the Warden of Winchester College, the Rev. H. Lee, Capt. Nevill, and the Rev. Geo. Deane. The mourners were, the Marq. of Chandos, her Grace’s only child, the Marquis of Westmeath, Lord Nugent, Sir George Nugent, Sir Edw. Hyde East, Mr. J. B. East, Capt. Grace, Mr Grenville Piggott, Mr. Ledbrook, the Rev. Mr. Wright, and her Grace’s domestics. During the solemn service, which was read in a most impressive manner by the Rev. Charles Shrubshole Bennett, the scene was truly affecting, every countenance indicating the sincerest sorrow. The Marquis of Chandos was supported on his return from the Church. The loss to the neighbourhood is repairable. her grace was strongly attached to the principles of the Protestant Church, and seemed always to bear in mind that serious subject. The cottages of the poor were constantly visited, and their bodily and spiritual wants supplied by seasonable relief and wholesome advice. It was almost the last request of this amiable lady, that her charities should be continued, and the Duke, who keenly feels her loss, will scrupulously observe the benevolent request of his lamented consort.

[…]

The following remarks are from a person who knew the Duchess many years, and had favourable opportunities of appreciating her excellences. Combined with a fine and polished understanding, the much lamented Duchess was blessed with a singularly amiable disposition—what is often a very difficult acquirement in others, in her was a natural endowment. When united to the Duke, at a very early age, at a period when others would have every thing to learn, she exhibited a beautiful pattern in every relation of life; and the duties that devolved on her as wife and mother found her prepared for their zealous discharge. As the kind benefactress of the poor amongst whom she resided she is well known, and many will long lament a friend. Dr Milner writes thus of her in his excellent History of Winchester, dedicated to her soon after her alliance with the noble House of Buckingham (and no union was ever formed under brighter auspices, as regarded the merits of both parties). “Such were the Margarets, the Christinas, and the Matildas, of the 12th century, and such grateful poor around Avington House proclaim their noble mistress to be at the close of the 18th century, before yet she has attained her nineteenth year.”

The character first acquired she retained to the end. If ambition sought gratification, the Duchess stood high in the favour of royalty; but she admired those softer and milder scenes which, though they blaze not with such splendour to the world, yet add incalculably to the stock of human happiness. No one was more sensible than herself of salvation through the Saviour, and very few indeed so strikingly exemplified their faith by numerous and ostentatious acts of goodness. Religion was her true delight—while she practised its duties she enjoyed also its promises. But this bright example (the sole heiress and representative of the late Duke of Chandos) whose name was almost idolized in Winchester, is now no more. She has, however, not lived in vain—thousands reverence her memory, and her sun is set among the affectionate regrets of all who knew her. Numbers intensely feel the separation, but their joy and consolation is, that her happy spirit tastes purer and more substantial felicity than this imperfect state can afford, after an illustrious career of piety and goodness, combined with the highest rank, by defusing the greatest possible portion of happiness, temporal and spiritual, to all within the sphere of her influence.