The Pain and the Privilege: The Women in Lloyd George’s Life

By late spring 1886 Lloyd George was committed, announcing in his diary that he had made his choice, but all the evidence suggests that Maggie felt less sure. While she was happy to slip out from Mynydd Ednyfed to meet him in the early days of their courtship, when he pressed his case in earnest she began to have doubts. He continued to waylay her at every opportunity, but he waited nearly a year after the Bardsey Island trip before daring to use an endearment for the first time:

27 June. After making a feint of running for the train, envelope in hand, started via sea-wall and Turnpike, Criccieth, for the hills. M. expecting me. M. asked me what I would tell them at home if they wanted to know where I’d been. I replied: ‘I’d say I’d been to see my sweetheart.’ This is the second time I’ve called her so. She likes it. I am now quite committed.11

Matters came to a head in July when he confided in Polly: ‘Told my sister M.E.G. to-night about M. She is well-pleased and thinks a lot of her, says I may mention the matter [of marriage] to M. shortly but that it would not do to marry for about five years at least.’12

Polly could see that a long engagement was the only sensible way forward, given the fact that Lloyd George was far from established in his career, and that his family could not give him any financial help. She would not have been blind to the other obstacles in the way of the young couple, and her advice was perhaps also coloured by the fact that Lloyd George would have to convince not one but two families to agree to the match.

This raises the question, why did Lloyd George’s devout Baptist siblings approve of the interdenominational match? The answer surely lies in the fact that they could see the advantages to their brother. Polly knew Maggie very well, and respected the strength of her character. Lloyd George would need a strong woman as a wife, both to support his limitless ambitions and to keep him in check, and Maggie appeared more than equal to the task. There were clear social advantages to the match: Lloyd George would benefit from his association with the well-to-do Owen family, which might be useful to him in building his law practice. Politically too, Lloyd George could not make a better match. A Baptist politician lacked a natural power base, since there were comparatively few Baptists in the area. A Baptist with no other recommendation would be seen as an outsider by both the church-going Tory voters and by the dominant nonconformist group, the Calvinistic Methodists. By marrying into a prominent Calvinistic Methodist family like the Owens, Lloyd George the future political candidate would be gaining a significant advantage.

Maggie was the catch of the district, and Lloyd George always deserved—and got—the best. It was true that there were issues to resolve before the marriage could take place, but Polly knew her brother supremely well, and never underestimated his determination to get what he wanted. She gently supported his campaign, speaking well of Maggie to those whose objections needed neutralising, encouraging Lloyd George to think of marriage, and keeping Uncle Lloyd out of his way. On the Owens’ side, however, there were no apparent advantages to a relationship between their daughter and Lloyd George. He was not marriage material in their eyes, and they doubted his ability either to support Maggie or to make her happy. On both counts they were eventually to be proved right.

Despite the dark stormclouds on the horizon, Lloyd George felt that all was well as he prepared to take a short trip to London over the August bank holiday weekend in 1886. His absence gave Maggie time to think, and she confided to a friend that she feared Lloyd George would let her down if she gave him her heart, although she confessed that she was very fond of him.13 With typical self-confidence, when this reached his ears Lloyd George rejoiced in the second admission without dwelling too much on the first. He regarded Maggie’s fears as a challenge, and he was sure enough of her affection to take the next step, and to propose to her.

Lloyd George chose his moment with care. Maggie had relatives living at Bodfan in Llanwnda, fourteen miles from Criccieth, and at the end of August she went to stay there for a few days. Lloyd George guessed that this would be his best chance of catching her alone, away from the baleful influence of her mother, and he followed with his plan of action worked out. His diary gives the story in detail:

25 Aug. Left Caernarfon per 4.40 train—dropped down at Llanwnda. Wrote at the Inn at Llanwnda a note for her…marched right up to the door [where she was staying], asked if Miss Owen was in, told the girl at the door that I was desired by her father Richard Owen to give her a note in passing! Eventually I saw her. It appears Miss Jones had read the note, M. being too excited to open it. She had to go to a party that evening, but promised to try and return by 8, and to meet me by the gate; I gave her a bouquet I had brought with me…I returned at 8 to Bodfan—but had to wait until 9.45 until the girls returned.

We can imagine his agony of suspense as he waited an hour and three quarters for his sweetheart to appear, but Maggie did finally arrive: ‘M came with me for a long drive in carriage (I had brought from Llanwnda). Here I proposed to her. She wanted time to consider, but admitted her regard for me. Although, when I write this, I have not been formally accepted, I am positive that everything is all right so far as the girl is concerned. I left her about mid-night. M. has some of the “coquette” about her—she did not like to appear to jump at my offer.’14

His confidence in Maggie’s regard was unshakeable, but he was mistaken in interpreting her genuine hesitation as mere coquetry. The truth was that she was disturbed by the gossip her mother and friends had passed on to her about Lloyd George’s reputation as a ladies’ man, and was not about to jump into a hasty engagement. She was also close to her parents, and was reluctant to go against their wishes.

Lloyd George knew when to press his advantage, and followed his appearance at Llanwnda with a letter on 28 August. ‘…Write me your answer to the question I gave you on Wednesday evening (or Thursday morning—I am not sure which it was!). Do, that’s a good girl. I want to get your own decision up on the matter. The reason I have already given you. I wish the choice you make—whatever it be—to be really yours & not anyone else’s.’15

Maggie’s religion had been the subject of gentle teasing between the lovers from the beginning, with Lloyd George trying to distract her from her regular attendances at Capel Mawr and avoiding his own duties at Capel Ucha as often as possible. The fact that Maggie did not object, and in fact seems to have enjoyed the fun as much as he, strongly belies the theory put forward by William George in later life that her hesitation was due to the religious difference between them. In October, after keeping Lloyd George waiting nearly six weeks for an answer, Maggie finally explained why she continued to hold back. He recorded the conversation in his diary:

1 Oct. To Mynydd Ednyfed & Mr and Mrs Owen having gone to Ty Mawr. I remained until 1 a.m. I pressed M. to come to a point as to what I had been speaking to her about [his proposal of marriage]. She at last admitted that her hesitation was entirely due to her not being able implicitly to trust me. She then asked me solemnly whether I was really in earnest—I assured her with equal solemnity that I was as there is a God in Heaven. ‘Well then,’ she said, ‘if you will be as true and faithful to me as I am to you, it will be allright.’ She said nothing about her Mother’s frivolous objection to my being a Baptist nor as to her own objection to my sceptical vagaries—for I told her emphatically the other day that I could not even to win her give them up & I would not pretend I had—they were my firm convictions.16

It seems that their different denominations were not an insurmountable difficulty for Maggie. Neither did she mind Lloyd George’s ‘sceptical vagaries’, his radical political convictions—in which case she would have done well to note that his courageous defence of them contained a warning: he would not give up his beliefs—or his political ambitions—for her or for anyone else. In this, he was to remain constant until the day he died.

While Maggie was considering whether or not to accept Lloyd George as a husband, her doubts with regard to his fidelity cropped up repeatedly, but she had no doubts at all about his professional success. Lloyd George was a man who would ‘get on’. What was not specifically discussed between them though was the future career he had in mind. Lloyd George was beginning to make a name for himself locally as a promising young lawyer, but he was also getting more and more involved in politics.

The swift changes of government in 1885-86 made for exciting times for the political activist in Morvin House. Most Liberals in Caernarvon Boroughs were Gladstonians. There is some evidence that Lloyd George’s natural political sympathy lay with Chamberlain, and but for a mixup with the dates of a crucial meeting in Birmingham he might have openly declared his support for Gladstone’s rival. It was politically canny, though, given the views of Welsh Liberals, for him to present himself as a Gladstonian, which is what he did.

Lloyd George’s political reputation had grown so rapidly by 1886 that he was shortlisted as the Liberal candidate for that year’s general election in the neighbouring constituency of Merioneth, but he soon regretted his candidacy. He withdrew, ostensibly to allow his friend T.E. Ellis to gain the Liberal nomination, but his diary reveals that he had been carried away by the enthusiasm of his supporters, and soon realised that he had neither the financial means nor the political experience to make a success of becoming an MP at such an early age: ‘When alone and calculating the possible consequences…I would not be in nearly as good a position as regards pecuniary, oratorical or intellectual capacity to go to Parliament now as in say 5 years hence. Now I would put myself in endless pecuniary difficulties—an object of contempt in a House of snobs.’17

During the election the Liberal candidate in Caernarvon Boroughs, Love Jones-Parry, made a mess of his campaign, first alienating his supporters by denouncing Home Rule, and then having a last-minute change of mind. He was defeated by his Conservative rival Edmund Swetenham. Nationally, support for Gladstone was not as strong as it was in Wales, and Salisbury returned to power with a majority of over a hundred seats.

Lloyd George was heavily involved in the local campaign despite the fact that he had decided not to stand for Parliament himself. His political activities could not have escaped the notice of his sweetheart. Indeed, it was during the years of their courtship that he became seriously committed to a political career and began to plan his way out of the law. His attitude towards his profession changed subtly: what was previously a source of pride became more a means to an end, a way of earning a living while developing his reputation as a political activist and speaker.

As Maggie wondered whether she could trust her young lover, did she fully understand what future life he was offering? Lloyd George’s diary records that their conversations were mainly about things they had in common: chapel, Criccieth society, her family’s disapproval, his legal clients. He did not seem to talk to her much about politics: she was not interested in the subject at this stage of her life, and he possibly regarded it as his own domain, and not a subject for feminine conversation. He would also have wanted to emphasise his professional successes to Maggie and her family, to prove that he could support a wife and family. His involvement in local politics would not necessarily have signalled his wider ambitions to Maggie. After all, her father was a leading local Liberal too, but he did not have any ambitions to enter politics professionally. Also, while with hindsight Lloyd George’s progress in politics seems the most significant development during this period, at the time much more attention was paid to his growing reputation as a lawyer. This may explain why Maggie was able later to claim that she did not regard his political career as a certainty when she was considering whether to marry him, despite all the evidence to the contrary.

Throughout the rest of 1886, Maggie was losing her heart, if not her head, to her insistent suitor, and on 11 November Lloyd George triumphantly records: ‘Never on better terms. First time she ever gave me a kiss. She gave it in exchange for a story I promised to tell her.’18 Lloyd George and Maggie had been courting for over a year, and had been discussing marriage since August, but Maggie had been brought up as a respectable chapel girl, and did not even kiss her lover until November. The increased intimacy was cautiously acknowledged by Lloyd George as he addressed letters thereafter to ‘My dearest Miss Owen’, rather than the simple ‘My dear Miss Owen’ he had previously been using. He did not yet dare use her Christian name.

Maggie’s reluctance to commit herself was understandable, for the rumours of Lloyd George’s flirting were not all in the past. Only two days after their kiss, he records in his diary: ‘Rather strong rebuke from M. for having condescended to gabble at all with Plas Wilbraham girls. I foolishly let out somehow that I had done so—she let me off—dismissed me—in disgrace.’19

Given her mother’s views, Maggie was very sensitive to suggestions that Lloyd George was flirting with other girls, and he would have been well advised to steer clear of any potential or former girlfriends while he was waiting for her answer. This was to prove quite beyond him, and he saw no reason to mend his ways either before or after his engagement, trusting in his wits and in the strength of Maggie’s feelings to get him out of trouble. Both were to be tested to breaking point in the weeks leading up to their engagement as his old flame Lizzie Jones made her final destructive appearance in his life, and his determination to ignore the local rumour mill very nearly derailed his new relationship.

Regarding himself as engaged—unofficially at least—Lloyd George had been pressing Maggie to face up to her parents. They were still so opposed to the relationship that the lovers had to communicate secretly, leaving letters in a niche in the stone wall on the lane near Mynydd Ednyfed, which they referred to as ‘the post office’. They met behind the Owens’ back whenever Maggie could sneak away, but Lloyd George upbraided Maggie constantly in his letters for keeping him waiting, or for letting him down. He had obviously reached the end of his tether by November 1886. On Friday the nineteenth, he signed his letter to Maggie ‘Yours (hyd y ffrae nesa’ ac wedyn) D Lloyd George’ [Yours (until the next quarrel, and beyond) D Lloyd George]20—and four days later he wrote an angry missive in a furious scrawl following yet another disappointment:

Wednesday morning,

Thanks for another sell—with regard to what you suggest about this evening I am not inclined to abandon my work at Porthmadoc any more upon the mere chance (as you term it) of your being able successfully to cheat your mother. You failed to do so last night & you may fail tonight. Letting alone every question of candour & duty it would be far more expedient in my humble opinion to tell your mother where you want to go. You have more than once vetoed the project of my discussing matters with her. However one of us will have to do it. As I told you before I disdain the idea of lurking like a burglar about premises when I merely seek to obtain an honest interview with my sweetheart & I have the same contempt for myself when I have been kicking my heels on the highway & lying in ambuscade like a footpad for half an hour more or less vainly expecting the performance of a definite promise of a stroll with my girl.

If you can meet me for a certainty at the usual time & place on Thursday evening (5.30 by Parkia Gate) kindly drop me a note at the post office today so that I may get it tomorrow. But should you propose making your promise contingent upon your mother’s passing humour then the project had better be deferred until you have been more thoroughly steeled.21

He had made his point, and Maggie wrote immediately to soothe him with the promise of a meeting by Criccieth cemetery, a secluded spot on the lane between Criccieth and Mynydd Ednyfed:

Dearest Lloyd George,

I will be by the cemetery this evening at 7 p.m. without fail.

Yours with love,

Maggie22

More significant than the message was the way in which she signed her Christian name and wrote her love. It was a capitulation.

The following month, Lloyd George persuaded Maggie to confront her mother over her continuing refusal to allow him to visit Mynydd Ednyfed, and followed up his argument with a letter:

I trust you will have something to report to me tomorrow of the result of an interview with your mother. As I have already intimated to you it is but of trivial consequence to me what your mother’s views of me may be—so long of course as they do not affect yours. All I wish for is a clear understanding so that we may afterwards see for ourselves how we stand.

You will appreciate my anxiety to bring the matter to an issue with your mother. I somehow feel deeply that it is unmanly to take by stealth & fraud what I am honestly entitled to. It has a tinge of the ridiculous in it, moreover.

This being done, you will not be troubled with any more lectures & I am confident I shall be thereby encouraged to act in such a way as will ensure your requited Confidence.

Yours in good faith,

D Lloyd-George23

The pattern of their relationship was set: Lloyd George would coax, persuade and tease Maggie to take the next step along the road to marriage. She would resist, caught between the twin forces of her mother and her suitor until he lost his temper. Forced to choose, she would give in, and so their relationship progressed, step by step. Lloyd George’s next goal was to become officially engaged, which meant getting Maggie to accept a ring. As she hesitated, unable to conquer her misgivings about his fidelity, matters took a turn for the worse.

By the start of 1887, despite Maggie’s parents’ opposition and Lloyd George’s mother and uncle’s ignorance of the situation, the couple were acknowledged sweethearts, even if they could not yet be openly betrothed. Maggie was still conscious of her lover’s bad reputation, and acutely aware of the damage a scandal could cause. In other words, this was not a good time for Lloyd George to be associating publicly with Criccieth girls who had caused tongues to wag in the past, since it would only reinforce Mrs Owen’s objections. He, as usual, felt immune from danger. As 1886 drew to a close, he was asked to act in a professional capacity in a breach of promise case. These suits, usually brought by a jilted fiancêe whose reputation had been compromised by her lover’s change of heart, were commonplace, and Lloyd George had already handled several. This time, though, the parties were known to him, for the claimant was Ann Jones, sister of his former girlfriend Lizzie.

As fellow members of Capel Ucha, it was natural for Ann and Lizzie to turn to Lloyd George when Ann sued her former fiancé, John Jones of Caerdyni Farm—or it would have been, if Jones was not Lloyd George’s friend and first cousin.* Given the delicate condition of his courtship of Maggie Owen, not to mention the family relationship involved, it would have been prudent for Lloyd George to refuse the case, but he did no such thing. Perhaps he preferred to face down his critics, or perhaps it went against the grain to refuse any case when his family needed the money so badly.

Oblivious to danger, Lloyd George seemed sure that his engagement was imminent, writing confidently to Mr R. Bonner Thomas, a Porthmadoc jeweller, on 26 January 1887 to order a ring for Maggie:

I enclose your finger card—the size of the rings I require is no. 7 on the card—I have matched it—send off for a few today without fail—I want them by Friday.

The prices might range between 7 & 15 guineas—get one or two with emeralds in as well as diamonds—but the majority I would prefer to be with diamonds alone.24

Yet Maggie was not ready to accept his ring in defiance of her parents’ wishes, emeralds and diamonds notwithstanding. A quarrel followed, and Lloyd George’s next letter to her refers to ‘the heat of last night’s rancoure [sic]’, and is signed rather brusquely, ‘Yours D Ll G’, with a curt postscript: ‘It is time you should cast off your swaddling clothes.’25

A second remonstration proved necessary as Maggie continued to prevaricate and to cancel meetings. This second letter is an extraordinary testament to his view of the world, and shows how clearly Lloyd George saw the path ahead, even at the age of twenty-four. Using all his powers of advocacy, he expresses his impatience with the slow progress of their courtship, and spells out the priority his work has in his life and will always have in future. He begins by berating her for keeping him waiting in vain—not because he missed her company, but because it inconvenienced him in his business dealings:

My dearest Miss Owen,

Without any preamble or beating about the bush, let’s straight to the topic. Here I am under the very disagreeable necessity—through no fault of my own you must admit—of addressing you for the hundredth time during a not very protracted courtship in a remonstrative spirit. Appealing to the love I have for you or that you have professed for me seems to be but vanity itself in your sight. I am now going to appeal to your sense of fairness & commiseration. I have repeatedly told you how I am steeped to the lips in an accumulation of work—that I am quite entangled & confounded by my office arrears—that I have to work late every evening & then get up early the following morning to effect some measure of disentanglement. You know how important it is for a young fellow starting in business that he should do his work not only efficiently but promptly. Another thing you have been told is that clients from Criccieth & the surrounding districts can only see me in the evenings & that they generally ask me to make appointments with them beforehand. And yet notwithstanding that you have been fully & emphatically acquainted with all these considerations the only assistance you give me is this—that in the course of a week’s time you have disappointed in three appointments made by you, that at the last moment, when my business arrangements had been made to suit those appointments, that moreover you kept me on Friday evening to loiter about for about 30 minutes before you even took the trouble to acquaint me with your intention to make a fool of me at your mother’s nod. Now letting love stand aside for the nonce—even a general sense of philanthropy might dictate to you that such conduct is scarcely kind on your part. I am sure you will recognise that it is not in keeping with your usual kindliness of spirit. I must really ask you for a little sympathy in my struggles to get on.

It becomes clear that his vanity has also been wounded:

Another thing—you well know how you lecture me about my lack of self respect. Well how is it you conduce to this quality to me? By showing me the utmost disrespect. You stick me for half an hour in a conspicuous spot to wait for you & having made an exhibition to all passers by, you coolly send word that it is your mother’s pleasure I should go home to avoid another disappointment.

Having engaged her sympathy and made her feel that she is in the wrong, he turns up the heat and forces her to make a decision:

Now once for ever let us have an end of this long standing wrangle. It comes to this. My supreme idea is to get on. To this idea I shall sacrifice everything—except I trust honesty. I am prepared to thrust even love itself under the wheels of my Juggernaut, if it obstructs the way, that is if love is so much trumpery child’s play as your mother deems courtship to be. I have told you over and over that I consider you to be my good angel—my guiding star. Do you not really desire my success? If you do, will you suggest some course least objectionable to you out of our difficulty? I am prepared to do anything reasonable & fair you may require of me. I can not—earnestly—carry on as present. Believe me—& may Heaven attest the truth of my statement—my love for you is sincere & strong. In this I never waver. But I must not forget that I have a purpose in life. And however painful the sacrifice I may have to make to attain this ambition I must not flinch—otherwise success will be remote indeed…