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

Polly too had to be kept on side, since Lloyd George would have to tell his mother and Uncle Lloyd about his relationship with Maggie sooner or later, and he would need her as an ally. He confided in her regularly, and in April told her of his plans to marry before waiting the five years she had advised, providing he could pay off his debts to Uncle Lloyd:

Walked after dinner MEG past Ynysgain Fawr. Told her my ideas as to getting married, that I wanted to pay Uncle his £200 first and then directly I am remunerated another £300—told her that if I were to complete matters in hand, I should probably get about £500 for them, and that W.G. could collect them in about 6 months. She didn’t in any way dissuade me but approved of the amount I had fixed so that perhaps after all my impulse had directed me wisely—persons most likely to disapprove don’t do so…owing to other reasons the sooner I get married the better—it will steady me.6

Lloyd George’s sums did not allow for the fact that he and Maggie had nowhere to live. This made it even more important to get the Owens’ approval: he knew they would not allow their daughter to go without a roof over her head.

Through the spring of 1887 and into summer, Lloyd George continued to flirt, Maggie continued to upbraid him, and Mrs Owen continued to disapprove. Things could not go on as they were, and the month of August was to bring with it a few summer storms that would force matters to a head.

Given the strength of feeling of their families there was no question of either Maggie or Lloyd George converting to the other’s denomination, so they had to find a compromise. They decided that it would be perfectly possible to maintain their own denominational loyalties within the marriage. In the spring they had started to attend services together at Capel Mawr, and Lloyd George soon realised it was not a happy place. Tension had been simmering under the surface for some time, caused by a proposal to offer services in English during the summer months for the benefit of the visitors to Criccieth. This led to a disagreement between those who equated the Calvinistic Methodist faith with Welshspeaking patriotism and those who felt it was their duty to evangelise and reach out to those who came to join their community, even temporarily. The controversy widened to include all manner of other issues, and erupted into a full-blown crisis in August 1887, when the congregation divided into two implacable camps. The national governing body of the Calvinistic Methodist Church was eventually called in to adjudicate. Its decision was to allow a group of disaffected members, including the Rev. Owen, to establish their own separate chapel in Criccieth.

Maggie and her family found themselves in the middle of this painful wrangle. It was extremely difficult for Richard Owen to face the fact that the congregation was irretrievably divided, but when the time came he cast his lot with the Rev. Owen. Such was the strength of feeling among the dissenters that the considerable expense of a new building was borne rather than attempt a reconciliation with Capel Mawr. The whole family transferred their membership to the new chapel, Seion.

Political battles of this kind were irresistible to the young Lloyd George. As a non-member at Capel Mawr he was not able to participate directly, but he was not slow to spot an opportunity to use the row to his advantage. By publicly supporting the Rev. Owen, he was able—finally—to gain some currency with Richard Owen. This emboldened him to wonder if he should press his advantage and formally ask for Maggie’s hand:

30 August. Bye the bye I am in a very queer state of mind upon this question [of marriage]. My urge is strong for a marriage straight away—say in [an] hour. On the other hand I am anxious that it should not come off until the spring at the earliest. Maggie I believe to be in a very similar state of mind but on the whole I think she wd. prefer the earlier date. However my present view is that prudence dictates spring as the date &I rather imagine that the event will be postponed to that season. I shd however like to be in a position to ask the old folks consent now. One very good reason for postponement is that there is no available house for one’s residence—except Cefniwrch which neither of us cares for. The only thing to be said for it is this, that if it so be let furnished for a short period we might have another house by the end of that period. It is when I am with Maggie that I find myself most anxious for marriage. Her society has a wonderful charm for me &I believe she now much prefers me to her parents. She will tell me so occasionally.7

There is no doubt that Lloyd George was charmed by Maggie’s company—but trouble still occurred when he was out of her sight. Through the summer she still found reason to take him to task for flirting with other girls, and the subject became a constant source of friction between them. In July, Lloyd George wrote to Maggie from Trefriw near Llanrwst, where he was staying with a friend:

Don’t imagine angry things about me,—that’s a pet. I shall redeem all misbehaviour yet. Believe me, though I am bodily in the coffee room of the Belle Vue Hotel Trefriw with Parry Pwllheli by my side assiduously inditing a letter to one of his numerous sweethearts I am in mind at M[ynydd Ednyfed] with my sweetheart by me. I swear by the pen which I now hold in my hand that I shall not flirt nor even wink improperly at a girl. Parry is my surety as to that.8

Maggie was unlikely to be reassured by the fact that Parry, with his ‘numerous sweethearts’, was responsible for keeping Lloyd George in line, but neither did she realise the full, obvious implication of his continual flirting: while she was with him he resisted casual flirtations, but when they were apart he was unable to be faithful.

In a letter from the same period, there is a tantalising hint that Maggie may have tried to bring Lloyd George to heel with a little flirting of her own. This was disastrous. He retaliated triumphantly that she had now given him an excuse for all his indiscretions: ‘Your letter…will justify all my flirtations for the past—and future [these two words were added as an afterthought]—and teach me how to gloss them over when caught.’9 She could not say she had not been warned.

The Capel Mawr controversy had a special resonance for the Owen family because Richard and Mary Owen had at one time hoped that Capel Mawr’s young minister would eventually be their son-in-law. Lloyd George was not aware of this at first, but over the summer Maggie confessed to him that she had received three offers of marriage, and that one of her suitors was the Rev. Owen. Secure in her affection, Lloyd George felt that this showed becoming modesty in his future wife, and recorded proudly in his diary: ‘Cannot help admiring the honour and lack of brag which caused the girl not to show these letters to me ere this.’10

After a lull of many months Lloyd George was back on track and escalating his campaign to get a wedding date fixed. Having gained a strategic advantage with the Owens at last, he pressed his case. The first objective was to be allowed to visit Maggie openly, for, six months into their engagement, Mrs Owen would still not allow him across the threshold of her house, nor would she give Maggie permission to meet him elsewhere. The couple had to meet in the dead of night, which must have been tiring as well as somewhat ridiculous. Lloyd George’s midnight roving had not gone unnoticed at home. Uncle Lloyd was still in the dark with regard to his nephew’s relationship with Maggie, but he had noticed his night-time excursions. Suspecting the worst, Richard Lloyd had taken to wandering the streets of Criccieth asking if anyone had seen him, so it was more important than ever for Lloyd George to be able to meet Maggie during civilised hours. In the meantime he did the best he could by hiding his uncle’s boots before leaving the house so that the old man could not follow.

Feeling more confident now that he was on better terms with Mr Owen, Lloyd George chose to go on the offensive and bully Maggie into confronting her mother:

Long talk as to my night visits. Told her that I was not enamoured of them especially as my uncle seemed to feel them so sorely—but they were our only resource since her mother was not civilized enough to permit my visiting her during decent hours. I suggested that she shd. tell her mother that I intended to come up at 8 every evening &she said that she had been thinking of the same thing, that she was thoroughly tired of our midnight meetings as they involved a sense of transgressing respectable rules. She finally promised to tell her mother on Monday without fail. She may do so.11

Lloyd George was not absolutely sure that she would go through with it, but Maggie was not lacking in courage, and she resented the indignity and the impropriety of the midnight meetings too. She was also getting thoroughly tired of being caught in the middle between her mother and her lover: ‘My parents are angry with me one day and you another. I am on bad terms with one or the other continually…Well I am very miserable, that is all I have to say, Dearest Dei,* and I hope things won’t be long as they are now.’12

This time, perhaps feeling short of friends as a result of the Capel Mawr rift, or perhaps responding at last to their daughter’s pleas, the Owens relented. Mrs Owen made a half-hearted attempt to limit Lloyd George’s visits to three a week, but she must have known that she had been utterly defeated. With Lloyd George comfortably ensconced in her parlour from eight till ten each evening, it was only a matter of time before she would have to agree to a wedding.

By October, the issue was not if Lloyd George and Maggie would be married, but where and how. Lloyd George turned his mind to how to announce his engagement to his own mother and uncle. The denominational difference was likely to be an even greater obstacle to his own family than it was for the Owens, since even the strict rules of the Calvinistic Methodists did not live up to the puritanical standards of the Disciples of Christ. The prospect of their Davy, the golden boy of the family, marrying into another denomination was bound to cause a great upset. Lloyd George’s regard and respect for his uncle’s judgement was still strong, and he wrote in his diary in October: ‘We had a good talk about marriage. We arranged to get married soon—provided my uncle did not upon my talking the matter over with him show good cause to the contrary.’13

November 1887 came, and with it a significant milestone. On the fourth Maggie reached her twenty-first birthday, and her parents could no longer legally prevent her from marrying, although they could still withhold their blessing. They could only ask the young couple to respect their wishes, arguing that there were still practical reasons why the wedding could not take place yet. Lloyd George wrote in his diary on 1 November:

I then had a talk with Mr &Mrs Owen—they pleaded for delay—that they had made up their minds not to stay at Mynydd Ednyfed…but that they could not get anything like a good price for the stock these bad times…that if they sold their things under value it would be our loss in the end—they wished us to wait for a yr. or so—that we were quite young &c…I thought the old man very cunningly tried to persuade me to delay by showing me it was in my own interest…I told them when [Richard Owen] said something about money that I wanted no money as I had of course before coming to that point seen that I wd. have sufficient myself without any extraneous aid (I am not sure whether it would have been better to plead poverty—but I wanted to show them that I took no commercial views of my engagement). The interview ended by their asking me to reconsider the matter &see them again about it.14

With matters having reached this advanced stage, it was time for Lloyd George to steel himself to tell his invalid mother that he would soon be leaving home. He was careful to make sure that Polly was on hand with plenty of praise for Maggie, but this was not enough to soften the blow, and he recorded in his diary how upset Betsy was on hearing the news: ‘the poor old woman cried and said she felt my leaving very much. She then gave me some very good advice about being kind to Maggie, never saying anything nasty to her when I lost my temper, to be attentive to her if &when she was ill, that sort of thing. She praised M. very much from what she had heard from M.E.G. [Polly].’15

In her weakened, dependent state Betsy could not bear the thought of either of her sons marrying. She would have been upset even if Lloyd George were marrying a Baptist, but he knew that it would not be as easy to gloss over the chapel issue with Uncle Lloyd. For the meantime therefore he decided to say nothing to the old man until the very last minute, when all the arrangements for the wedding were in place.

At the end of November the Owens were still refusing to give the couple their blessing, but they finally gave in to Maggie’s pleading over Christmas—the denominational mismatch was such a serious matter that they had to formally consult Seion’s deacons before acknowledging the engagement. They began to bargain with Lloyd George over the location and form of the ceremony. Richard Owen would not hear of his daughter being married in a Baptist chapel, and Lloyd George knew that his uncle would not countenance a Methodist wedding. Two things were clear: a compromise would have to be found, and since neither family would be in a mood to celebrate, the wedding had better take place at a distance from Criccieth. Lloyd George argued strongly for Capel-y-Beirdd, a Baptist chapel three miles away, but Richard Owen had been defeated on every count thus far, and insisted on having his way with regard to the location. Lloyd George’s diary records his frustration: ‘The old folk still very adverse [sic] to going to Capel y Beirdd. Their hostility due in a great measure to a silly pride quite as much as to religious bigotry. I am inclined to get stiff about the matter. I would not care a rap where to get married, were it not that I am going out of my way to cater for sectarian pride and bigotry.’16

Richard Owen finally decided that the wedding should take place at the Calvinistic Methodist chapel at Pencaenewydd, and would brook no opposition. Lloyd George knew when to give in gracefully, and at last a date was set. Maggie and he would be married on 24 January 1888.

Pencaenewydd is a tiny hamlet hidden in the hills five miles inland from Criccieth. It is about as obscure a location for a wedding as could be found—hardly the natural choice for the popular Criccieth belle Maggie Owen. Richard Owen was signalling his disapproval as clearly as he could.

Finally, the time had come for Lloyd George to tell Uncle Lloyd that he was to be married, and to present him with the fait accompli of the wedding arrangements. He waited until 9 January, only two weeks before the ceremony he hoped his uncle would conduct, and, balking at witnessing the reaction of his guardian and mentor, he asked Betsy to break the news. Disappointing Richard Lloyd was one of the hardest things that Lloyd George had had to do in his life: he had never forgotten how much he owed his uncle, and marrying a non-Baptist was a poor way to repay him. He did not usually shirk difficult tasks, and his diary entries betray his nervous feelings as he approached this, the last hurdle of all: ‘Mam told Uncle today that I propose getting married in a fortnight—he seemed to feel it but said nothing except that he hoped we would go through the business without any fuss.’

Uncle Lloyd’s love for his nephew overcame his disappointment, and by the following day good relations were restored: ‘Told Uncle my reasons for not telling him before—he took it very well…He said that everyone told him my little girl was a charming and sensible lassie. He told us to learn steadiness, domesticity and unselfishness etc; warned me that I was entering in to a new family, and must adapt myself to its proclivities—excellent advice—feel much relieved after telling him.’17

Richard Lloyd had only a passing acquaintance with Maggie, but he could see that Lloyd George was quite determined, and whatever his private feelings, he accepted the match. In his diary he wrote that evening: ‘Mae pawb yn dweud ei bod yn eneth fwyn, synhwyrol ac yn eneth ddefnyddiol’ (Everyone says that she is a lovely sensible girl, and a practical girl).18 He agreed to conduct the ceremony, only stipulating that he would prefer the wedding to be as simple and unshowy as possible. In this respect, he was at one with Richard and Mary Owen.

When the news of the impending marriage became known, Maggie and Lloyd George were at last able to formalise their courtship. Given its clandestine nature, he had not had a chance to get used to acknowledging such a serious relationship in public. In addition, they had only a few days in which to make the wedding arrangements. On 19 January Lloyd George went to Pwllheli to take out a marriage licence, and it was then that the importance of the commitment he was about to enter hit him: ‘Never felt so queer. It was then I began to thoroughly realize what I was doing and I felt quite stunned tho’ without an atom of repentance or regret.’19

He was seemingly in the same frame of mind when he went away with some friends for a half-hearted stag weekend: ‘Drove to Rhyl with Howell Gee and Alun Lloyd—either I was in an extra serious mood owing to coming events or the company indulged in hilarity which I did not appreciate, for I did not enjoy myself—They drank, smoked and played billiards, and flirted with giddy barmaids.’20

It was with trepidation that Lloyd George finally approached his wedding day.

West of Llanystumdwy, a narrow road snakes its way inland into the heart of the Llŷn Peninsula, passing through the quiet hamlet of Pencaenewydd before meandering onwards. The village consists of a few farms and cottages and a pair of solid, semi-detached houses separated from the road by their well-kept gardens. Set further back from the road is a Calvinistic Methodist chapel, a plain, unremarkable stone building with a pair of tall, narrow arched windows overlooking the road. It is now a private residence but still bears a simple slate plaque with the words ‘Pencaenewydd M.C. 1822’ inscribed upon it.

It was there that David Lloyd George and Richard Lloyd made their way on the cold morning of Tuesday, 24 January 1888. They set off early, leaving Criccieth on the 7.15 train to Chwilog, five miles away. There they were met by Myrddin Fardd (the poet John Jones), a long-standing family friend, and they breakfasted with him before walking the three miles to Pencaenewydd. As they approached, a heavy mist shower began, as if to further dampen the mood. No other family members joined them for the ceremony. This was principally out of respect for Uncle Lloyd’s request for a quiet wedding. Whatever their private feelings on the matter, Betsy, Polly and William went about their business as usual on this momentous day.

At 10.15 the bridegroom entered the chapel and waited for his bride. He had just turned twenty-five years old, and had grown into a handsome young man, slim and carefully turned out, with a fashionable handlebar moustache adorning his upper lip. He wore the long frockcoat of the period, a waistcoat and a tie beneath a starched wing collar. His most striking features were his lively, intensely blue eyes, which on that morning could be forgiven for wearing a rather anxious expression. Maggie at twenty-one was very attractive; pretty rather than beautiful, but with calm blue eyes in a rounded face, compact features and a trim figure. They would make a good-looking couple.

The bride and her father arrived in the Mynydd Ednyfed carriage, accompanied by the Rev. John Owen. Maggie’s former suitor was there at Richard Owen’s insistence, for, notwithstanding any possible awkwardness, he had been asked to jointly preside over the ceremony, adding just a little bit more Methodism to placate the bride’s family.* A second carriage drew up containing members of the Owen family—Mary Owen almost certainly, and perhaps Dorothy Roberts too—and they took their places inside the small chapel. The ceremony was conducted by Richard Lloyd, with prayers and a reading by John Owen. It went without a hitch, and the newlyweds were pelted with rice as they left in a carriage, bound for a short honeymoon in London.

At long last the deed was done, and Lloyd George and Maggie were married. Later that day he wrote in his diary: ‘I am very glad the whole business is over—Never felt so anxious.’21 Richard Lloyd’s comment in his diary was simply: ‘May Heaven make it to Dei and his Maggie a very bright red letter day.’22

*Lloyd George, distracted by his political activities, had managed only a third class honours degree.

*Maggie variously addressed Lloyd George in writing as ‘D’, Dei, or ‘Die’, all abbreviations of ‘David’.

*The Rev. Owen’s feelings about the day’s proceedings are not recorded, but he later returned a postal order that Lloyd George sent him in recognition of his services, with a generously worded letter saying: ‘I never accept anything for marrying and burying people, nor for christening children, and I certainly would not break the rule with a couple of friends. Should either of you feel desirous of being properly buried I shall stick to my rule, or should any christenings be unavoidable in your family the terms will be the same…Wishing you both long life and real happiness, and with my kindest regards to Mrs George and yourself…’

6 From Wales to Westminster

UNCLE LLOYD AND RICHARD OWEN may have wanted minimal fuss over the wedding, but Criccieth was determined to celebrate. As the newlyweds sped by train to London a bonfire was lit, fireworks set off and the whole town draped in bunting and flags to mark the wedding of two of its most popular young citizens. The greyness of the skies failed to deter the organisers, and although the suggestion was made that they should postpone celebrations until the couple returned from honeymoon this was rejected, since it was equally likely that the weather would be unfavourable then.

Lloyd George and the new Mrs Lloyd George spent a week enjoying the sights of London, no doubt relieved that the long-anticipated wedding had finally happened. But even on honeymoon, Lloyd George’s ambition did not allow him to stop working. He wrote a letter to D.R. Daniel, a political associate, from his London hotel, failing even to mention the wedding. What is yet more astounding is that this letter followed one that he had written on his actual wedding day, presumably before setting out from Morvin House at daybreak. He did at least make a passing reference to the significance of the day in that letter, but only in a brief and very oblique way: ‘yr ydwyf am gychwyn i wlad bell—gwell hefyd, disgwyliaf’ (I am about to set off for a far distant land—and a better one too, I expect).1

Lloyd George did not neglect Maggie, though, and together they made the most of the opportunities London offered, seeing a varied selection of the theatrical entertainment on offer—Hamlet, Puss in Boots and Gilbert and Sullivan’s HMS Pinafore. The only incident that marred an otherwise happy time was an altercation between Lloyd George and a cab driver over a fare. The two nearly came to blows, but Maggie intervened.

Mr and Mrs David Lloyd George arrived safely back in Criccieth on 3 February to an enthusiastic welcome from a crowd of well-wishers. Mr Owen’s carriage was waiting at the station, and in a scene that would have been unimaginable only a few months previously, Lloyd George was borne back to Mynydd Ednyfed—where it had been decided that the couple would live at first—not as a guest, but as a member of the family. The disputes that had threatened the engagement were put aside, and Lloyd George’s diary entry for the night of their return shows his relief at the warm reception he received: ‘Mrs Owen very pleased to see us. Felt very awkward this first night at Mynydd Ednyfed. Both Mr. and Mrs. O were however very kind and assisted us to feel as homely as possible.’2

For Maggie, this arrangement was ideal. She was able to resume life with her beloved parents and almost-as-beloved maid, Margiad. She lived, as before, in her childhood home, but with the welcome addition of her handsome husband. Her parents made every effort to get on with the new member of the family, and having forgiven him for winning their daughter’s hand, quickly came to appreciate the qualities that appealed to her so strongly. Whenever Maggie was with Lloyd George in London over the following years, Richard Owen wrote a weekly letter with all the news from Mynydd Ednyfed, addressed affectionately to ‘Annwyl Blant’ (Dear Children), and at home he worked hard to promote his son-in-law’s political career. Had he realised how quickly Lloyd George would put aside his marriage vows, and how soon his political activities would give him the opportunity to stray, perhaps the welcome would not have been so warm.