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

There has been a flow of people from Wales to London as far back as records exist, and the numbers grew to a torrent in the nineteenth century, forming a large, socially mixed group of immigrants. Then, as now, the Welsh in London did not feel a pressing need to gather protectively together. They spread themselves out across the city, with a slightly denser concentration in the west and north-west around Paddington and Euston, the two great gateways to Wales. Many of the migrants came from farming communities, and they made two farming-based trades their own: dairy and drapery. The sight of a Welsh dairy or draper’s shop was a familiar feature of Victorian London, and the great Welsh retailers’ names are still visible, Peter Jones, Dickins and Jones and D.H. Evans among them. These establishments, and countless smaller ones, attracted more Welshmen and women to work as dairy maids, shop assistants and domestic servants. They intermarried freely with native Londoners, lived above the shop or in the houses they served, and built up a community life around the numerous Welshlanguage chapels and churches they built in the city. Some did well: two nineteenth-century Lord Mayors of London were Welsh, and when the National Eisteddfod was held in the Albert Hall in 1887, royalty attended.

The prosperous Welsh in London readily opened their doors to Lloyd George, who enjoyed their lively social gatherings. He got to know them—and their wives—and there was enough evidence of flirting to make Maggie suspicious. In a letter written soon after Mair’s birth, she sounded a warning: ‘I am glad you have not seen any girl you should like better than poor me, but are you sure that you have not seen anyone to flirt with. Remember to be careful in that line as I will soon find out.’ 16

As early as 1893-94, in an undated fragment, Lloyd George had to defend himself against the same charge: ‘Am y reception [As for the reception]. I behaved very modestly. I am sure Mrs Gwynoro hardly saw me speaking even to any ladies—at least very casually.’ 17 He evidently felt he needed to make it clear to Maggie that his companion on this occasion was not physically attractive: ‘I dined that evening at Wynford Phillips & took his wife, a black thin skinny bony Jewess whom you could not squeeze without hurting yourself. This lady I took to the reception & left her there directly he arrived.’ He then lists all the women he met at the event, some of whom were clearly known to Maggie, and others whom he took care to describe in highly unflattering terms: ‘I met Mrs Evans of Llanelly (formerly Miss Hughes) Belle Vue, Miss Griffith Springfield, Miss Jones (hogan goch & spectols) [a red-haired girl with spectacles] & Mrs Dr. Price, Mrs Dr. Parry & a few more whose names even I do not recollect.’ 18

Dick recalls that this was a typical tactic of his father’s. Maggie was quick to confront her husband with evidence of any inappropriate behaviour. She had inherited a little of her mother’s temperament, and could be fierce when roused. Lloyd George believed that attack was the best form of defence: when accused he would come out fighting, disarming Maggie with a teasing response or a forthright denial. Their letters, though warm and affectionate, are littered with accusations and denials, some jocular, others less so. In November 1895, Lloyd George wrote: ‘Oh yes, Miss Jones. She is lovely. Twenty-one, charming & so jolly. It is a perfect delight to spend Sunday in the same house. Dyna i ti rhen Fagi! [There you are, old Maggie!] Love, fond & warm from your sweetheart.’ 19 Again, in February 1896: ‘You are a jealous little creature! Miss May is not there. As a matter of fact I have not seen her for months.’ 20 And from Rome, where he was holidaying with two colleagues, he addresses a letter to ‘My dear suspicious old Maggie’: *‘Mrs Blythe is a widow—young, pretty and genial. Are you scared stiff to hear this, old Maggie? Well, you needn’t be. She worships the memory of her dead husband and can think of nothing else.’ 21

Hardly reassuring. He went on to deploy another favourite tactic, suggesting that another member of his party was misbehaving, making himself look angelic in comparison: ‘ They all know how fond I am of my Maggie. They see me writing letters when that is difficult…Gilchrist never talks of his wife and children, but I do often .’ 22

Lloyd George genuinely considered himself to be a good husband and family man. *He was certainly a regular and enthusiastic correspondent, and he took a close, affectionate interest in his children. But left to his own devices in London, there were plenty of women who were more than happy to offer him the comfort of their parlours, posing a threat to the distant Maggie. An undated letter written to Lloyd George in the 1890s spells out the danger:

My Dear Mr Lloyd George

I have just returned from Birmingham. Went there yesterday and now I am back here in my flat [and my maids]. If you are going no where else tomorrow afternoon come up here and have some music. I shall be staying here now for a while so hope to see you.

In haste, yours etc

RFL 23

Again, from 1899 comes the distraught voice of a lady friend who wanted more attention than Lloyd George was able to offer:

My Dear Lloyd

Do please answer my letters. I never knew whether you got the one I sent you before you went abroad wishing you ‘bon voyage’. I am on [illegible] in case they do not reach you safely. Come & see me one Evening this week only let me know then I shall be in. I am dying for a long talk with you. Now do not fail to answer this letter.

Ys in haste,

Kate 24

Scribbled across the top of the letter, which is on black-edged mourning paper, is the instruction:

Read & tear it up at once but mind and write me. I have news for you too. A surprise.

We do not know what happened next, but the end of the story emerges in a telegram sent to Lloyd George at the Liberal Club. It seems that he had used the time-honoured way out of a tedious correspondence by continuing to ignore her letters:

I do think you unkind—you might put me out of my misery & acknowledge the receipt of my letters. I shall never write again unless you answer this. Will you come here or meet me tomorrow night—Friday? K 25

It is possible that Lloyd George was innocent of any wrongdoing in this case—there is no concrete evidence of indiscretion. But he was at the very least unwise to behave in such a way as to invite emotional letters of this kind. He was alone in London, at the height of his attractiveness. He was a popular and entertaining guest, and was as free as a single man to enjoy some music and female company once the business of the House was over for the day. From the start, he had redrawn the rules of marital fidelity to exclude sex from the deal. Maggie had his first loyalty, his love and his name. Anything she could not provide—including companionship and sex when they were apart—he felt free to take from others. Maggie had every reason to fear the worst.

The one thing Maggie did not have to fear was divorce. Quite apart from the fact that he loved her, Lloyd George was not going to leave his wife, for before he had served his first full session in Parliament he had witnessed at close quarters one of the most calamitous divorce scandals of the age. The affair between the leader of the Irish National Party, Charles Stewart Parnell, and Mrs Katharine O’Shea rocked the political establishment to its core. It made the young Welsh MP even more determined to put ambition before love, and political success above all else.

Katharine O’Shea, the wife of a captain in the 18th Hussars, met the charismatic Parnell in 1880, and they were soon living together in London and Brighton. She became closely involved in his political work, nursed him through his frequent periods of illness, and was often consulted by British and Irish politicians alike as Irish Home Rule became a more pressing issue. Her home was the first port of call when Gladstone or his lieutenants wanted to speak to Parnell, who was rapidly becoming one of the most prominent politicians of the day. He was worshipped in Ireland, and as the leader of the Irish Nationalists in the House of Commons, he held the balance of power.