The chief point which at once strikes home in reading the account of her younger days is an entire absence of any system of education, to use the words in their modern application. Everything she learnt was due to her own exertions. She did not receive the benefit of any course of early teaching to prepare her to meet on equal terms the brightest stars of a period which will compare favourably with any other in the annals of this country for genius and understanding. ‘My principles were of my own finding, both religious and moral, for I never was instructed in abstract or practical religion, and as soon as I could think at all chance directed my studies.... Happily for me, I devoured books, and a desire for information became my ruling passion.’ Her own words thus describe how she gained the general knowledge which was subsequently of such use to her. Lectures on geology, courses of chemistry with the savants whom she met on her travels, and hours of careful reading snatched whenever practicable, seem to have been the solace and the recreation of those early years of her married life. By her own efforts she thus became fitted, with the aid of undoubted beauty and a natural liveliness of disposition, to take her place in Whig society, into which her marriage with Lord Holland had thrown her. Without the same opportunities, her salon in later days succeeded and far surpassed in interest that presided over by the beautiful Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire. Thus said Charles Greville: ‘Tho’ everybody who goes there finds something to abuse or to ridicule in the mistress of the house, or its ways, all continue to go. All like it more or less; and whenever, by the death of either, it shall come to an end, a vacuum will be made in society which nothing can supply. It is the house of all Europe; the world will suffer by the loss; and it may be said with truth that it will “eclipse the gaiety of nations.”’ But her sway over her associates was the rule of fear, not of love; and with age the imperiousness of her demeanour to her intimates grew more marked. Each one of her visitors was liable to become a target for the venom of her wit or the sharpness of her tongue.

But was it solely her exertions which, like a magnet, drew that distinguished coterie to the old house in Kensington? In this we think that fame has in some degree erred. Let praise be given where praise is due. The genial presence of Lord Holland, with his endearing personality, his sympathetic nature, and his ever-engrossing flow of anecdote, was at least of equal value in attracting those guests as were the fascinations of his wife. ‘I would not go to heaven with Lady Holland, but I could go to hell with his Lordship,’ said Ugo Foscolo; and the sentiment was echoed in the hearts of many others, who had not the strength of character to tear themselves from their accustomed haunts.

Elizabeth Vassall was born on March 25, 1771. She was an only child, the daughter of Richard Vassall, of Jamaica. Owing to a similarity in the Christian names, the Vassall pedigree is somewhat difficult to trace with any certainty. It appears, however, that they were descended from one of two brothers, John and William, who went to America from England and are mentioned in the first Massachusetts Charter of 1629. The latter of these brothers went to Barbadoes in 1650, and purchased large estates there. Ticknor, in reply to Lady Holland, who had just told him that New England was originally populated with convicts, mentioned a house in Cambridge, Massachusetts, built by a member of her family, and a marble monument to one of them in King’s Chapel, Boston. Florentius Vassall, her grandfather, was born in 1710, and married Mary, daughter of Colonel John Foster, of Jamaica. By her he seems to have had two sons and two daughters, the second of whom, Richard, succeeded to the property upon his father’s death in 1779. Richard was born in 1731–2, and married Mary, daughter of Thomas Clark, of New York. They lived almost entirely in England, and after her husband’s death in 1795, Mrs. Vassall married Sir Gilbert Affleck, second Baronet, of Dalham Hall, Suffolk. She died in 1835, at the age of eighty-six. Florentius Vassall’s will contained a most stringent proviso that whoever succeeded to the estates should take the name of Vassall immediately after their Christian names. By its terms Elizabeth succeeded to the whole of the West Indian property, chiefly situated in Jamaica, at her father’s death. This amounted in 1800 to about 7000l. a year, but after the suppression of the slave trade it deteriorated greatly in value, and was of little account at the time of her death.

In 1786, at the age of fifteen, Elizabeth was married to Sir Godfrey Webster, of Battle Abbey, in Sussex. It was a mariage de convenance, and one which would probably appeal to all parties except the young lady. Her parents would doubtless welcome the alliance to a member of an old and respected English county family; while the money which was to come to her at her father’s death would be of much service to her husband. The Websters came originally from Derbyshire, but had settled near Waltham, in Essex. Sir Thomas Webster, who was created a baronet in 1703, was the purchaser of Battle Abbey. He sat as member for Colchester for many years, and married Jane, daughter of Edward Cheek, of Sandford Orcas, Somerset. He died in 1751, and was succeeded by his eldest son, Whistler, who married Martha Nairne, daughter of the Dean of Battle. Upon his death, without surviving issue, in 1779, the property and title went to his brother, Godfrey, who died the following year, leaving by his wife, Elizabeth, daughter of Gilbert Cooper, of Lockington, co. Derby, a son, Godfrey, and a daughter, Elizabeth, who married Thomas Chaplin. Sir Godfrey was born in 1748, and was thus nearly twenty-three years older than the child he married. He was for some years member for Seaford, and at the time of his death sat for Wareham. Battle Abbey was tenanted by his aunt, the widow of Sir Whistler Webster (she lived till 1810), and the Websters were therefore obliged to take up their residence in a small house close by. The old lady did little or nothing to keep up the place, and everything was falling into a state of ruin and disrepair. Elizabeth seems to have looked on her as a kind of usurper of her rights, and as the dispositions and tastes of the two ladies were diametrically opposed to one another, a constant friction between them developed into open warfare. At one time the young lady used to send across to the Abbey in the mornings to inquire ‘If the old hag was dead yet.’ At others she would set about devising ghostly apparitions, rattling of chains, and other eerie noises calculated to frighten the old woman, who, contrary to her desires, appears to have thriven on these petty annoyances, and more than once was able to turn the tables on her persecutor.

On one occasion a dozen or more people were introduced into the Abbey after dark and distributed about the house. At a given time each commenced a kind of drumming noise in turn increasing and decreasing in intensity. After the din had gone on for some time, and no notice was taken, the jokers came out of their hiding places only to find that Lady Webster had left the house with her servants and taken the keys with her. There they had to remain till morning!

Another day, a crowd of panic-stricken countrypeople, with carts and horses, fleeing from the coast, bringing intelligence of a French landing, invaded the Abbey. These were in reality led by friends of Elizabeth, many of them in disguise. The old lady gave them all as much food and drink as they wanted, and sent them away to tell the French that she would treat them in like fashion when they came, and that there she would be found until the day of her death.

To a young and pretty woman, blessed with buoyant spirits, of an age to realise the pleasures of life, and with every wish to enjoy them to the full, this quiet country life must soon have become irksome. Even with everything in her favour she might naturally have desired to see more of the world than she was likely to find in the green fields of Sussex, varied by an occasional visit to London. But circumstanced as she was, with a husband more than double her age, and without the occupation and cares of a large establishment to manage, her fancies and desires were sure to wander further afield. She longed to leave Battle, ‘that detested spot where I had languished in solitude and discontent the best years of my life,’ and she implored her husband to take her abroad after the birth of her son. Their eldest, Godfrey Vassall, was born in 1789, and another, who died soon after, was born the following year.

Though a member of Parliament, Sir Godfrey had no keen desire for political life; in fact, he had lost his seat in 1790. Nor did he care for society, but his tastes and interests led him to prefer a residence in England; and the racket of the Continent, with its endless journeys and discomforts, had no attraction whatever for him. He did not care for the pictures and works of art in Italy as much as for the pleasures of the country gentleman of the day. He was immensely popular in the county, perhaps partly on account of his liberality and extravagance, which, combined with his gambling propensities, greatly helped to dissipate the large sum of ready money to which he had succeeded. He also took an active part in all local matters of business. These interests, however, he consented temporarily to relinquish, and in compliance with his wife’s constant entreaties they set off abroad in the spring of 1791.

It will be unnecessary here to go at length into their travels, as the Journal deals closely with their progress. Another son, Henry, was born in February 1793; a daughter, Harriet, in June 1794; and another boy, who died soon after his birth, in October 1795. Sir Godfrey was sometimes with his wife abroad, sometimes in England, their final separation taking place in the spring of 1795.

All this time the relations between husband and wife were becoming more and more strained. Everything appears to have been perfectly amicable between them until 1792, when, in a letter to Thomas Pelham, Lady Webster mentions that his behaviour to her seems to have undergone a sudden change, owing, she thought, to money difficulties which were troubling him. It is impossible to say what was the true explanation of the reasons for this change. Her various friends were certainly a trial to Sir Godfrey’s jealous disposition, but beyond a foolish levity of conduct consequent upon youth, her flirtations do not seem to have been of a very dangerous nature. Their correspondence, however, continued without break until her return to England in June 1796. Disparity in ages and a complete absence of any similarity of interests was in all probability the base from which the rift first sprang; and, once the edges were parted asunder, an infinity of foolish misunderstandings and trivial annoyances would too surely have assisted the widening of the gulf.