I’m told there’s so bright a land
Beyond this night of sores
That neither pain nor cruel bond
Shall trample its happy shores.
If this be true—God grant it be—
Where no souls shall part
Fond heart from fond heart—
That is the world for you and me.21
Lloyd George was not trying to win Kate back, but he needed to express his feelings. He consoled himself with recording in his diary that Kate had let slip to a mutual friend, ‘Lord knows I prefer [Lloyd George] to anyone I have ever been with.’ But however much she might have liked Lloyd George, she stuck to her decision, and married Dr Williams in February 1883.
Deeply held feelings at the age of nineteen are often short-lived, and by the time of the wedding Lloyd George had recovered his sense of humour: ‘John Roberts only just come home from Penmachno—Brought me a piece of wedding cake Dr and Mrs Williams left with Miss Vaughan by Miss Jones to give me!!!’22
His affair with Kate had inspired Lloyd George to think of marriage for the first time, and had given him bitter experience of losing to a rival in love. It also taught him that he needed to be well established in his career before he could approach a girl with serious intentions, and also perhaps made him determined never again to lose a girl because of the intervention of her parents. These were all valuable lessons which were not forgotten.
Thus far, Lloyd George’s fledgling relationships had ended before he became fully entangled, but the next one was different. It was to have serious repercussions, nearly derailing his later courtship of Maggie Owen and laying down a lifetime’s habit of sailing close to the wind in matters of the heart. This time the object of his affections was a dark-eyed brunette called Lizzie Jones.
Young people in rural Wales were encouraged to meet and mingle in chapel. In this way they could get to know their future spouses under the protective gaze of the chapel elders, avoiding too much intimacy and the social and ideological complications of an inter-denomina-tional marriage. This was not just a means of keeping affairs respectable and young girls out of trouble: interdenominational rivalry ran high, and a cross-chapel marriage was socially troublesome. For nonconformists like Lloyd George and his family, chapel membership was a serious, lifelong commitment. The congregation acted as an extended family and an early form of social services, with each chapel looking after its own sick and elderly and members clubbing together to meet shared expenses. Each chapel had its own ceremony to accept new members and bind them for life, and the Calvinistic Methodists and other denominations took their ‘cwrdd derbyn’ (confirmation service) very seriously indeed. Members were expected to play a part in the chapel community, attend services faithfully and pay a subscription each week to meet expenses. Interdenominational, even same-denomination, inter-chapel rivalry meant that relationships that crossed the boundaries were heavily discouraged.
This caused practical difficulties within the broader community. How could married partners belong to different congregations when membership was, in effect, a subscription to a large family? Husbands and wives would have to inhabit different social circles. In which faith would children be raised, and what about the financial contribution that families were expected to make? They could hardly afford to pay two. It was just not feasible. Admittedly, marrying into a different nonconformist denomination was better than marrying Church, but only just.
It was better to make sure that young people married within their own faith, and it was thus hardly surprising that Lloyd George should have first set eyes on Lizzie Jones in chapel. In fact, the first thing that attracted him to her was not her appearance, but her rich contralto voice. He himself was developing a pleasant tenor voice, and an interest in attending local singing festivals quickly followed his discovery that they were good places to meet young ladies. In 1883, just as he was recovering from his disappointing affair with Kate, he began to notice an attractive addition to the voices of the choir in chapel, and quickly matched it to the sparkling brown eyes of Lizzie Jones. She was a talented singer in a community of good singers, and had ambitions to train professionally as an opera singer. Lizzie was in demand to perform at events and eisteddfodau throughout Caernarvonshire and Merionethshire. This made her less available, and Lloyd George considerably keener:
Sun 25 Nov. A miserable Sunday in all respects for me…My feet wet all day owing to leaky shoes…L. went to Beddgelert on Friday to sing in an Entertainment there and in spite of my earnest request that she would not go, but the little Jezebel has stayed there over Sunday which has given me unutterable pain throughout the day. In earnest I do not know what to do with the girl. I wish to God I had never meddled with her, but I am afraid it is too late now. She has acquired a wonderful mastery over my idiot-heart.23
For once in his life, Lloyd George had met his equal in flirtation. Lizzie seems to have led him a merry dance through the spring of 1884, and in June he records his frustration at not being able to make progress with her: ‘I wish to God she would keep away altogether. I might feel it, keenly perhaps, for a while, but I’d sooner get over it by not seeing her at all than by being compelled, as I am now, to see her and hear her voice twice a week.’24
A few days later came another tantalising encounter: ‘Lizzie Jones sang some song with the burden “Oh, where is my boy tonight?” When she sang the last line, “I love him still he knows”—she gave me a glance.’25
Her singing talent was clearly matched by a talent for teasing, and Lloyd George was most willing to play the game. Their liaison was cut short when Lizzie came down with diphtheria and was put in isolation. Even this did not deter Lloyd George, and although he was squeamish throughout his life when it came to illness, he insisted on visiting her sickbed. This gave the local gossips a field day, especially when Lloyd George suffered a sore throat shortly afterwards:
March 23rd 1885: After dinner strolling about the garden with Eliza Caerdyni [his cousin, daughter of Betsy’s sister Elin]—she makes excellent company, an agreeable girl; if anything, rather too much of a puritan. She told me how Mrs Owen Mynydd Ednyfed had been telling her that I got my sore throat from my ‘cariad’ [sweetheart]. Blast these malicious gossips.26
Alas for Lloyd George, this particular ‘malicious gossip’ was to become his mother-in-law, but not before he had had to work hard to mend his reputation.
Soon afterwards Lizzie ended the relationship, leaving Lloyd George wounded but philosophical. She went on to marry a schoolmaster called Lloyd Williams and, as we shall see, was to make one last, devastating, appearance in Lloyd George’s life a few years later. After they parted on this occasion, he consoled himself again with the thought that he was better off without her: ‘it would cost between £200 & £300 to train in the Royal Academy of Music…It is not likely that I shall be in a position to do this for her for many a year yet.’27
Lloyd George richly enjoyed his flirtations. He recorded every encounter and played the game with relish, but he also felt genuine affection for each girl. He was not just playing the field; quite the opposite. His diaries reveal a young man who despite good intentions fell in love rather too easily. He would become overwhelmed by his emotions, but thus far at least they ran pretty shallow. He got over each lost love quickly, and consoled himself with reasons why it would not have worked out before moving on to the next with equal sincerity.
By now Polly was seriously worried. Not only was Lloyd George proving himself to be highly resourceful in escaping the family’s supervision, but he also seemed to catch the eye of every pretty girl in the district. The family at Morvin House was only too aware that their hopes and all Lloyd George’s dreams of greatness