*The outcome was a political shock, since the election had been called early in order to deliver a renewed mandate for the Conservatives. The final result was Liberals 350, Conservatives 245, Home Rulers (Irish Nationalists) fifty-seven.
*Jennie remained in Criccieth until her death in 1930. She never married, and was generally thought to have pitched her expectations too high to be satisfied with her local suitors.
*Accounts differ as to when this happened. There is a suggestion that it was this that prompted Polly’s return from Criccieth in the mid-1870s, but since Betsy managed to pay a considerable sum to cover her sons’ articles, it is more likely that it was after 1882, a period when there is more evidence that the family were in financial difficulties. By 1892 they were on a stronger financial footing, and William George was able to build a substantial house, Garthcelyn, in Criccieth for himself, his mother, his uncle and sister.
POLLY SET ABOUT HER CAMPAIGN immediately and with energy by arranging evening singing sessions in chapel for the younger members, social events that the elders could not object to, and inviting her friends to call at Morvin House. It required more planning to extend her brother’s social circle to include girls from other chapels, since there were fewer excuses for getting together outside the chapel walls. Polly therefore arranged trips to local places of interest along the coast, and invited young people from neighbouring chapels to make up the numbers. One such outing took place on 13 July 1885, when she organised a day trip by steamer to Bardsey Island, two miles west of the tip of the Llyŷn Peninsula. Sixteen young men and women left Criccieth that morning in an excitable state, looking forward to spending a day together without the constant, spirit-dampening supervision of the chapel authorities. They were expecting a day of sunshine, picnicking and perhaps some mild flirting, but for two of them at least it was to be a life-changing adventure.
Bardsey was a well-known beauty spot, but local tradition also maintained that 20,000 saints or pilgrims were buried on the island. In the sixth century St Cadfan began to build a monastery there, and the island later hosted an Augustinian abbey whose ruins are still to be seen. Such was Bardsey’s spiritual significance in the early Middle Ages that three pilgrimages to it were the equivalent of one to Rome. Even the most puritanical chapel elders could not object to a day trip to such a holy spot. The Criccieth party left Porthmadoc aboard the steamer Snowdon, and on arrival they soon split up into groups of two or three, clambering up the steep slopes to find sunny spots to eat their picnic lunches. Lloyd George found himself in a group of three with Polly and one of her friends. In his diary entry for the day he records how much he enjoyed the company of a certain Miss Owen: ‘I was with Miss Owen, Mynydd Ednyfed, mostly. MEG (my sister) with us—Enjoyed myself immensely.’1 Polly had scored a bull’s-eye.
Margaret Owen, known as Maggie, was the only child of Mr and Mrs Owen of Mynydd Ednyfed (Mount Ednyfed) farm. She was eighteen years old, and had returned to Criccieth from Dolgellau, where she had been attending Dr Williams’ boarding school for young ladies. It was highly unusual for a girl to be educated beyond the age of fourteen, and the Owens’ decision to send Maggie away to finish her instruction was a clear signal of their devotion, as well as a sign that they wanted the best in life for her. Lloyd George had noted her in his diary before—he commented on virtually all the girls he bumped into during the course of his day—but not in a way that suggested any particular attraction. In June 1884 he commented that Maggie Owen was ‘a sensible girl without fuss or affectation about her’. The following spring there was another reference: ‘May 1885 [Criccieth Debating Society soir=e] A really 1st class affair—the victualling part as excellent as the entertainment—playing forfeits and the like games until 11.30. About 30 present. Took Maggie Owen home a short way—her mother waiting for her in some house.’2
It was not typical of Lloyd George to take girls home the short way, but Mrs Owen was one step ahead of any glad-eyed youth, and was determined to make sure that her daughter got home promptly. By the time he had encountered Maggie Owen a few more times he noted that she ‘Seems to be a jollier girl as you get on with her.’3
Maggie Owen appeared not really to be the kind of girl to catch Lloyd George’s eye. She was not flirtatious or showy, but she had a grace and a quiet confidence that set her apart. She was pretty, with lively blue eyes, but was not considered a beauty so much as a good catch, and she had at least two other serious suitors in Criccieth. But she had been absent during Lloyd George’s adolescence, and was not as familiar to him as the girls he had grown up with. She now appeared in his life with all the allure of novelty just as he was getting over Lizzie Jones. As they wandered around Bardsey Island together, a mutual attraction grew between them.
On the face of it, there were major obstacles to a match between Lloyd George and Maggie Owen. For a start, she was far from ideal in Uncle Lloyd’s eyes for the simple reason that she was a Calvinistic Methodist. Indeed, Maggie’s family was almost as far removed from the Lloyds socially as was possible within the narrow confines of a small town like Criccieth. For their part, the Owens would have equally strong reasons to rule out Lloyd George as a potential match for their daughter.
Richard Owen, Maggie’s father, was a well-to-do farmer and a pillar of the Calvinistic Methodist community of Capel Mawr (Great Chapel) in Criccieth. As the prosperous proprietor of the hundred-acre Mynydd Ednyfed farm he was wealthy enough to invest some capital in the Porthmadoc fleet, to educate his daughter privately, and on his retirement in 1891 to build a pair of fine semi-detached stone houses looking out over Criccieth bay. He was not a member of the landowning class—he was a nonconformist, and he and his family spoke Welsh as their first language—but he was economically in a different class to the Lloyds, and indeed to most of the inhabitants of Criccieth. When he died he left an estate of £1,558.2s.6d (£131,000 in today’s currency) to his wife. Not without reason, Richard Owen and his wife considered themselves to be a cut above the Lloyds and the Georges.
Richard Owen could trace his ancestry back to Owen, the twelfthcentury Prince of Gwynedd. The power and the land belonging to this class had long since been superseded, but pride remained. Richard Owen might work for a living, but he took his place at the top of Criccieth society, with the natural authority of those born to rule. He was a strong, well-built man even by the standards of the mountain farmers of Llyŷn, and his reputation for physical feats was matched by respect for his sound judgement. He spoke slowly, was not easily roused to anger, and had deep-set eyes in a calm, serene face. His physical courage was legendary: he had once been charged by a bull, but had stopped it in its tracks by grasping it by the horns. This and other examples of his strength had earned him the respect of the whole community. He was often asked to adjudicate in disputes between his neighbours, some of whom had known him for decades yet still addressed him as ‘Mr Owen’. On market days he had his own wooden bench on the green in Criccieth that no one dared sit on unless by his invitation.
Richard’s local status was further enhanced by his election as head deacon of Capel Mawr, where he sat in authority next only to the Rev. Jones. The deacons together with the minister visited the sick, educated the young, and led and encouraged the faithful. They were also responsible for judging and punishing any member who strayed. Their ultimate sanction was to cast out a member from the congregation, and in so doing take away the sinner’s place in society. It followed