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

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