ENTERS PARLIAMENT
“The day of the cottage-bred man has at last
dawned.”—=Lloyd George.=
NOW (1888) happily married and well started on his legal career, Mr.
Lloyd George was able to return to his larger ambition of sitting in
Parliament. From this time forward he definitely aspired to sit at
Westminister as the representative of his own native constituency, the
Carnarvon Boroughs. The achievement was not to be easy. There were many
lions in the path.
During the last few years, indeed, he had immensely increased his
reputation. He had travelled through many parts of Wales and visited
many courts, fighting the cause of the “under-dog.” The tenants of
Wales, harried and evicted after 1868 and 1880, had begun to hold up
their heads again. They felt that they had a new champion on their side.
But the old habit of sending to Westminster only the powerful and
wealthy was not yet dead. Feudalism always dies slowly. It was a very
sudden change indeed to pass from the squire and the manufacturer to the
cottage-bred lad of Llanystumdwy.
David Lloyd George, indeed, neglected no opportunities. Besides being a
lawyer and a public speaker, he was now an active journalist. Working
with that fine spirit, Mr. D. R. Daniel—then one of the noblest sons of
the Young Welsh movement—David Lloyd George founded at Pwllheli in 1888
a paper called _The Trumpet of Freedom_—a name which certainly did not
lack sound and vigour.
Then, a few months after his marriage, with the consent and support of
his fearless wife, he allowed his name first to be put forward as
possible Liberal candidate for the Carnarvon Boroughs.
Then followed one of those personal struggles which test and try a man.
It is right that all claim to rise above our fellows should be narrowly
scrutinised. There is even in jealousy some element of that instinct for
equality which gives dignity to the meanest man. Here is a factor that
takes multitudinous forms, varying from fair judgment to sheer malice.
The strongest man will wince under the scorpions of spite; but he will
accept the verdict of a fair jury of his peers. It was to such a jury
that young David Lloyd George now fearlessly appealed.
Certainly it was scarcely to be expected that his claims to the seat
should pass unchallenged. He was still (1888) only twenty-five years
old. He was appealing to his own countryside; and a prophet is recorded
to have authority anywhere but there. There was the inevitable question
of envious neighbors—“Is not this the bootmaker’s boy?” There was the
man who had known “David” with the curls down his back—who had kept a
record of his youthful pranks. Then there was “the County”—that fine
essence of squiredom which had always regarded “the seat” as one of its
own possessions. Above all, there were the little borough circles—the
elders in the chapels, the grey-beards in the seats of the saints. There
were some such seniors who shook their heads gravely at such madness.
The boy must bide his time. Who was he to rule over them? For when
David, the shepherd’s youngest son, came up to face the Philistine
champion, it was not only the Philistine enemy, but also his own elder
brothers who scoffed and doubted.
Against all these doubts and envies only one thing could prevail. It was
the new wave of Nationalism which was sweeping over the younger
generation throughout Wales, and especially North Wales. Wales was tired
of those respectable professional members who were so easily captured by
the political machines at Westminster. They wanted some one endowed with
the courage to revolt; and already they had a perception that David
Lloyd George was such a man. He had shown this in his defence of the
fishermen of Nantlle, and in his championship of that poor old quarryman
of Llanfrothen. In both cases he had defied authority; and in both cases
he had won. He had been the first to break the tradition of fear which
brooded over the Welsh people.
He had already roused a new spirit of hope in the younger generation:
and they were determined that he should carry their banner forward.
At first his candidature progressed very slowly. It was true that the
constituency had fared badly of recent years. In 1886, when Tom Ellis
was sweeping all before him in Merionethshire, the Carnarvon Boroughs
had put forward an old-fashioned Liberal who had lost the seat to an
able Tory.
At this time it was still in the possession of that Tory member—Mr.
Swetenham, Q.C. Humdrum Liberalism, as David Lloyd George had already
prophesied, had not proved a winning card in the Boroughs. But such an
experience does not always remove prejudice. There were those who argued
that a Q.C. could only be defeated by another Q.C.—or say, a professor;
or perhaps, even better, a millionaire, if he could be obtained. We all
know these dreams that haunt the minds of local committee-men in
difficult and doubtful constituencies.
The first step towards achievement was taken in the spring of 1888 when
he was adopted as candidate by the Liberals in the Borough of
Carnarvon.[25] But for some months the other four Boroughs held aloof,
and it was not until later in the year that he was selected as candidate
by the Liberals of Nevin, Pwllheli, and Criccieth. For several months
longer there was a hesitation among the respectabilities of that eminent
cathedral city of Bangor, where even Liberalism has a tinge of blue. But
on December 20th Bangor surrendered, and he was chosen as Liberal
candidate for the whole constituency.
It is clear from the letters and diaries of the time that these months
marked a period of great stress in his life. When he was selected at
Bangor he wrote to his family one of those passionate youthful
assertions of “will to win” characteristic of power in the bud:
“Despite all the machinations of my enemies, I will succeed. I
am now sailing before the wind, and they against it.”
It is clear from these sentences that there was keen personal opposition
to his candidature. It was a moment in Welsh Liberalism of fierce tidal
struggle between the old and the new forces. The old forces died hard.
That type of Liberalism, still not rare in England, which aims at
cashing its seat in Parliament for money favours or local privileges,
was by no means yet dead in Wales. The strong wind of that great
national spirit which has since swept through the Principality had not
yet risen to hurricane force. There were many elements of fear and
self-interest which viewed with horror the challenge to powers in high
places which David Lloyd George set before Wales as the only sure road
to liberty. These men found his doctrine too hard for them. Mr. Doubting
and Mr. Feeble-mind hoped still to serve two masters and to get the best
of two worlds. It yet required a great struggle before David Lloyd
George could convince them that his was a sign in which they could
conquer. These great victories are not achieved easily; it is only
through great storm and stress that nations attain to freedom of soul.
But a great event in this progress was destined to take place the
following year—1889. It was a singular curiosity of this period of
reaction in British home affairs that there had crept into the Unionist
Government a man of large and progressive views. Mr. C. T. Ritchie[26]
had emerged from the British middle class to take his seat among the
mighty of this land. He had not lost sight of his own people in the
process. Mr. Ritchie was a bluff man, rugged of speech and ungainly of
appearance. He seemed like a fly in amber in the midst of a Tory
Government. But he happened to be very popular with Queen Victoria, and
he was a power in the City of London. It has always been in England a
part of the compromise of the great aristocrats who dominate the Tory
Party that they should promote to high office a few shining lights of
the middle class. In an earlier time they had to promote Sir Robert
Peel—at a great price to their cause. Now they had to admit Mr.
Ritchie; and the penalty was almost as great. For in 1888, by creating
the County Councils, he struck a blow at the roots of county feudal
government.
Young Lloyd George saw in a flash the tremendous opportunity thus given
to Wales. He knew by long experience that the power of the squires was
largely based upon their control of county government in Quarter
Sessions. He saw that they would endeavour to prolong their power by
capturing the new County Councils. He determined to do his utmost to
defeat them. He refused to stand for election himself, although he was
offered four seats. His own ambition was larger. It was to capture the
county. He moved about from place to place speaking everywhere and
trying to rouse the whole of Carnarvonshire to the great chance now
placed in their hands. He succeeded. He carried the county. Everywhere
the candidates of progress were returned. “It is a revolution!” he
cried. “The day of the squire has now gone!”[27] So profound was the
conviction of the Welsh Liberals that he had won their battle for them
that he was immediately chosen as county Alderman along with Mr. (now
Sir) Arthur Acland, who, at that time, had a house in Carnarvonshire.
“The boy Alderman,” as he was called, instantly threw himself hotly into
the new work of the Carnarvonshire County Council. He became a
conservator for those native rivers of his which he loved so dearly,
soon winning for them that freedom for which he had always striven in
other ways. He took an active part in every branch of administration.
But his main purpose was directed to using the Welsh County Councils as
a political stepping-stone towards the great goal of Home Rule for
Wales. He was a prime mover in appointing a Committee to collect
evidence for the Royal Commission on the Sunday Closing Act in Wales. He
pushed forward the idea of an Association of County Councils for the
whole of the Principality. During those months of 1889 David Lloyd
George created a Home Rule weapon in Wales of which he was destined to
make a mighty use in one of the greatest struggles of his later years.
Perhaps he “builded better than he knew.” But it is a very striking
evidence of his early political instinct that he should have perceived
so soon the full possibilities of the Welsh County Councils.
The tide of events now began to sweep him rapidly towards a larger
political career. As recognised candidate for the Carnarvon Boroughs he
already began to play an important part on the larger political stage.
In October 1889 he had supported a Welsh Disestablishment resolution at
a meeting of the Welsh National Council. In December he persuaded the
National Liberal Federation at Manchester to accept the policy of the
Local Veto on the drink traffic. On February 4th, 1890, he made at the
South Wales Liberal Federation a brilliant and arresting speech on Welsh
Home Rule—a speech which instantly marked him out as a coming figure in
Welsh politics. He argued with force and power that, as compared with
Ireland, the argument for Welsh Home Rule was stronger because they
lacked the specific difficulty of Ireland—the Ulster problem. The
speech made a deep mark. Already in his own country he stood for unity
and daring, while even in England rumours began to reach the ears of
Radical politicians that a new and fiery force was arising hard by the
rocks of Snowdon.
It was at this critical moment that Mr. Swetenham, the Conservative
member for the Carnarvon Boroughs, died; and suddenly the young David
Lloyd George was faced with a supreme challenge. Probably, if he had
been able to shape events himself, he would have preferred to wait a few
years before standing for Parliament. But to some men the call of fate
comes early and swiftly, and cannot be denied.
Certainly David Lloyd George showed no sign of hesitating to meet the
call. On March 24th, 1890, he issued his Address—a brief, terse,
dignified statement of his political faith. It was not the Address of an
ordinary Liberal candidate. True, he gave his homage to Mr. Gladstone
and the cause of Irish Home Rule; but then he passed on rapidly to a
strong assertion of the claims of Wales—first and foremost, for
religious liberty and equality; then for sweeping reforms in land and
labour laws; last, but not least, for a liberal extension to Wales of
the principle of self-government. In other words, Mr. Lloyd George stood
for Parliament always before all things as a Welsh Nationalist. In
subsequent years, when he was to be so often accused of disloyalty to
the Liberal Party, that fact might perhaps have been more often
remembered.
The sudden death of the Tory member threw the Unionist organisers into
some confusion. At first they pushed forward a Liberal Unionist; but
Wales has no liking for the lukewarm in politics. Finally, they selected
the local squire, Mr. Ellis Hugh Nanney,[28] a strong Tory, but a man of
considerable local popularity with those who admired him.
Here, then, was a thrilling contest—between the village boy and the
local squire; between the rebel of the village school and its secular
ruler; between the Robin Hood of the village woods and their lord and
owner.
It was a sharp, keen struggle, fought to all appearances on Irish Home
Rule; but the weapons of the fight were edged and pointed by the new
spirit of freedom that was blowing hard from the Welsh hills. On Mr.
Nanney’s side was the old order, with all its powers and attractions,
its graces and its condescensions; on the side of David Lloyd George was
the keen, breezy hope of the future, with all its rough and rugged
possibilities. In the end the veteran Liberals of Wales rallied to the
support of the young David. Both Mr. John Parry and Mr. Thomas
Gee—after a searching interrogation—came to his help.
We may be sure that in the fierce atmosphere of that contest there was
little effort to spare the humble origins of the Liberal candidate. It
was characteristic of David Lloyd George that he met these attacks, not
with apology, but with bold defiance.
On March 28th, speaking at Carnarvon, he uttered this ringing reply:
“The Tories have not yet realised that the day of the
cottage-bred man has at last dawned.”[29]
It is clear that that idea had taken hold of his mind with mastering
power.
We can recover a picture of that little by-election as the struggle
ebbed and flowed in the streets of those little Welsh townships, far
away there between the mountains and the sea. To the great world it was
a mere episode in Mr. Gladstone’s last great struggle.[30] It was only
dimly that the shrewd London special correspondents began to perceive
that something else was at stake also—something else for Wales,
something else for England also.
We see the slow-moving drama working to a crisis through that far-away
Easter-tide—the public still mainly absorbed in their holiday
pleasures—the meetings at first feebly attended, and then, as the day
of election draws near, more and more crowded—the squire-candidate at
first amiably confident and aloof, pleading ill-health, then suddenly
appearing constantly in public, feverishly canvassing, plainly alarmed
by the reports of his agents. All through we can see the little
“hamlet-lad” with the yellow rosette—boldly sporting his
colours—flitting from town to town, urging on his supporters, speaking
to the Welsh people in that sweet mellifluous, persuasive tongue of
theirs, so magical to those who know it.
“A dull election,” said the correspondents at first. The result seemed
to them doubtful. These Londoners expected the Welsh to be very
excitable; and they were surprised to find them so calm. They forgot
that deep waters run still.
Then they began to notice the Liberal candidate. One who heard him speak
in Welsh wrote to London: “I never heard any one speak Welsh so
charmingly as Mr. Lloyd George. It was the first time I had heard him;
and though I could not understand a word of it, it is exceedingly
pleasant to listen to him.”[31] Truly, a remarkable victory for the
power of sound!
Then, as the election goes forward, we can see pale fear gradually
creeping through the ranks of Tuscany. The Welsh Tory agent was
hurriedly sent down from headquarters and wired back that the situation
was serious. Exertions were redoubled. On those last days this election
certainly was not dull. Deep cried unto deep; and the Welsh crowds began
to murmur like the restless sea which beats on their shores.
Then comes the polling day—Friday, April 4th. Up to the last the issue
is doubtful. It is a neck-and-neck struggle. The poll is very heavy.
Carnarvon votes to a man—and Bangor almost to a man.[32] The shrewd
observers are puzzled. They feel like those who watch the meeting of the
tides. The signs are not clear. One coming from Nevin finds David Lloyd
George in Carnarvon the solitary wearer of his own favours. He cannot
understand it.
Then, the closing scene—the counting of the votes on the polling day in
the room beneath the town hall at Carnarvon. It is midday of a beautiful
spring day, and the street outside is packed with seething, expectant
humanity. How slow they are inside there! How wearily the minutes drag
on! But far away, over Criccieth, Snowdon shines, still snow-crowned,
beautiful and serene.
Inside the town hall the issue wavers to and fro. From hour to hour fate
oscillates in the balance.
The votes have now been counted. The Nanney heap is one side of the
table, and the Lloyd George heap on the other. The heaps seem almost
equal. But to the trained eyes of close observers the papers on the
Nanney heap rise above his rival’s by just a shadow of a shade. There
can be no doubt about it—David Lloyd George is beaten. Better tell him
at once.
David Lloyd George smiles bravely. His friends gather round him with
sober solace. “Better luck next time”—when suddenly there is a stir in
the throng which surrounds the ballot papers.
One of David Lloyd George’s vigilant agents has been better occupied
than in uttering words. He stands eagerly scrutinising the piles of
papers: and now his keen eye has noticed something doubtful about one of
the packets of papers on Mr. Nanney’s heap. He picks it up and glances
rapidly through the voting-papers. Below one or two Nanney votes there
is a little unnoticed series of votes for Lloyd George. It is enough to
make the difference, and to return David Lloyd George as member by a
majority of 20.
Stung by frustrated hope, the Nanney agents insist on a recount; and one
vote is transferred from Lloyd George to Nanney, reducing the majority
to 18.
David Lloyd George is M.P. for the Carnarvon Boroughs!
The word goes swiftly forth. As soon as he appears, he is received by
that hitherto silent crowd with tumultuous acclaim. The still waters
break into foam. He is drawn in a carriage through the town by a
tremendous crowd. At Castle Square he addresses them in Welsh: “My dear
fellow-countrymen,” he says, “the county of Carnarvon to-day is free.
The banner of Wales is borne aloft, and the boroughs have wiped away the
stains!”
Eighteen votes[33]—not a very large gap between defeat and victory. But
it is enough. ’Twill serve. The moving finger has written.
-----
[25] Now (1920) as then a constituency consisting of five Welsh
Boroughs—Carnarvon, Bangor, Criccieth, Pwllheli, and Nevin. Out of
consideration for the Prime Minister the constitution was left unaltered
by the Act of 1918.
[26] Afterwards Lord Ritchie.
[27] In a speech at Liverpool on February 18th, 1889. The first mention
of Mr. Lloyd George in a leading article was in the _Carnarvon Herald_
over this speech.
[28] Now Sir Ellis Hugh Nanney.
[29] These words are taken from the verbatim report of his speech in the
_Carnarvon Herald_.
[30] Mr. Gladstone wrote the following by-election letter:
“DEAR SIR,
“Your sanguine anticipations do not surprise me. My surprise
would be this time, if a Welsh constituency were to return a
gentleman who, whether Tory or Liberal, would vote against the
claims which Wales is now justly making, that her interests and
feelings should at length be recognised in concerns properly her
own. Even if he reserved or promised you his individual vote, by
supporting the party opposed to you and keeping it in power, he
would make that favourable vote perfectly nugatory.
“I remain,
“Your faithful servant.
“W. E. GLADSTONE.”
[31] The _Daily News_, April 2nd, 1890: “He has a flexible, sympathetic
voice, a silvery, mellifluous articulation, and his action is that of an
accomplished orator.”
[32] The _Carnarvon Herald_ records that the Tories polled every
possible man. One voter was brought all the way from Wolverhampton.
Three Carnarvon plasterers were brought by car to Carnarvon from the
beach at Pwllheli, where they were working.
[33] The full figures were:
David Lloyd George 1,963
Ellis Nanney 1,945
——
Majority 18
——
[Illustration: MRS. WILLIAM GEORGE,
THE MOTHER OF DAVID LLOYD GEORGE.]
[Illustration: DAVID LLOYD GEORGE AT THE AGE OF SIXTEEN]