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

been delivered to Maggie. She did not dismiss Lloyd George’s covert warning that her absences were leading him into temptation. While she was in Wales the despised Mrs Tim had a clear field, and with the children growing older, she had less reason to cling on to Criccieth. Nevertheless, the bonds were difficult to break, and it was not until the end of 1898 that she finally agreed to join her husband in the city she hated.

      With peace restored—somewhat precariously—between Maggie and Lloyd George, a happier period ensued. Indeed, for a family commuting between North Wales and London, theirs was a remarkably stable home life, due to Maggie’s unblinking focus on her children. The elder children, Dick, Mair and Olwen, had happy memories of growing up in Criccieth, largely cared for by Richard and Mary Owen and watched over by Uncle Lloyd in Garthcelyn, the house William had built for the family. With Maggie dividing her time unevenly between Criccieth and London, Dick remembers her as an occasional visitor during his infancy, with longer spells at home before a new brother or sister arrived. As a young child he missed his mother very much, and he may have exaggerated their periods of separation. His early memories may also have been coloured by the fact that he was sent back to Criccieth to attend school during the Boer War which broke out in 1899, and lived apart from his family for large parts of the year. Mair left no diary or memoir to speak for her, but Olwen, three years younger than Dick, writes of growing up in London with only extended holidays spent in Criccieth. The truth probably lies in between: the family was firmly based in Criccieth in the early 1890s, but as time went on pressure grew on Maggie to spend more time in London. She usually took the youngest member or members of the family with her, leaving the elder children behind, which would account for the different recollections of Dick and Olwen.

      Dick was a sensitive boy who inherited his mother’s love of North Wales but did not possess his father’s brilliance and ambition. His restless energy found an outlet in mischief, especially during endless sermons in chapel, and he was made to sit with Richard Owen in the ‘set fawr’, the front pew reserved for deacons, on more than one occasion to put a stop to his antics. He had a gift for mimicry, and when he began to acquire some English he found he could deflect his mother’s anger by assuming an exaggerated accent and declaring ‘Oh I say!’, reducing her to helpless laughter. He was very close to Maggie, whom he worshipped, and as the first grandchild in either the Owen or the Lloyd family, he was secure in the attention of both.

      As a child growing up by the sea in Criccieth, Dick was enthralled by the sight of the hundred-ton schooners moored to the stone jetty under the castle rock waiting their turn to load up with Porthmadoc slate. He watched their sails unfurl as they left the shelter of the bay for the open sea, and listened to the tales of weather-hardened fishermen on the seafront. The ‘maes’ (village green) gave yet more scope for entertainment as farmers and stockmen compared notes with Richard Owen presiding. Here, though, young Lloyd Georges had to behave or risk the displeasure of Uncle Lloyd, who frequently sat on a bench overlooking the maes. As the eldest child, Dick was more aware of the tension between his parents than were his siblings, and he was badly affected by their heated rows.

      With regard to religion, a compromise was reached despite the entrenched attitudes of the older generation. Dick was raised a Baptist, and attended Berea, the handsome new chapel which replaced Capel Ucha in 1886, with Uncle Lloyd every Sunday; Mair was christened a Methodist like Maggie; Olwen was a Baptist; and Gwilym a Methodist. Only Megan, the youngest, bucked the pattern by becoming a Methodist too. When Maggie was at home she would take all the children with her to Seion, but when she was away Dick would sometimes take Megan to the Baptist service on Sunday mornings, and both would go to the Methodist service in the evening. This was all highly irregular, but not, it seems, confusing to the children, who were loyal to their own denomination while being perfectly at home in the other.