Squatters and the Tŷ unnos

Many years ago I discovered Little Sparta.

And excitement overtook me. I realised that a garden could be a form of expression. That it can tell a story, express feelings, communicate with the world. And I knew what I wanted to communicate. There is this utterly magic thing about this world: wherever you are in it, the bit you are standing on has been there, full of history, for hundreds of years. This very bit. 

Well, a few yards down, maybe, because the world gets fatter all the time. But something was happening here, on this spot, and much of it can be discovered. I had already spent a good deal of time researching the place where I was making the garden at Veddw, and I then set out to reference that history in the garden. I have written about that – here.

Some of that history.

This is about the part which has been easiest for me to discover: the role of squatting in the origin of the settlement where Veddw Garden is located.  Currently about ten houses (depending when and where you stop counting) in a single track country lane.

It’s curious that there is so little written about historic squatting. When I began researching the phenomenon I could only find one book that was really useful and dedicated to the topic:

It’s worth reading if the subject interests you. It was published in 2002.

Yet between 1500 and the 20th century squatting was widespread over the whole of the British Isles. (and the rest of the world, including America.) You would be able to find references to it, for example, not only in Wales but in South West England, the Forest of Dean, the Royal Parks, the Staffordshire Potteries, Oxfordshire – ‘Lark Rise’, Essex, North Yorkshire, Northamptonshire, Worcestershire, Derbyshire, Windsor Forest, Enfield Chase, and East Sussex. Ironbridge has a re-erected squatter cottage in the Blists Hill Victorian Town.

Wikipedia declares (without citation) that In 16th- and 17th-century Wales, an expansion in population as well as taxation policy led to a move of people into the Welsh countryside, where they squatted on common land. These squatters built their own property under the assumption of a fictional piece of folklore, leading to the developments of small holdings around a tŷ unnos or “house in a night”.

Tŷ unnos or one night house. From Cerddi Ysgol Llanycrwys 1934

This is the tradition that if you could build a house in a night, that would establish your right to the site.

Charles Heath reported in 1799 that ‘in the Wye Valley between Ross and Monmouth he saw a small hut, by the waterside, carelessly heaped together, which according to the established custom, the indigent natives raise in the night; this if they can accomplish it, so as to cover in, and boil a pot within the space of twelve hours unmolested, becomes their own; and they are allowed to enclose a sufficient quantity of land around it, and to rebuild a more suitable cottage.’ (quoted in ‘A World unto Themselves,’ an unpublished thesis by James Moir 1990 p 164)

Moir does go on to say, however, that ‘it is irrelevant whether the house was built in a night or a fortnight, as the myth that it entitled the occupier to freehold possession constituted no defence in Statute Law….The myth tried to condense into a night what should have effectively by statute taken twenty years.’ (page 165)

It rarely gets mentioned in discussions of tŷ unnos that it was possibly not the landowner who was most unhappy about such cottages, but perhaps the commoners and tenants already there.

David Jones, writing about the Rebecca Riots of 1843-44 in South Wales, (p55) explains that the tŷ unnos settlers ‘were not universally popular, for they cut across the rights of local farmers, interfered with the traditional sheep walks, and there were fears that the poorest squatters might become a burden on the rates.’

However, back to the Veddw, where I’m sure all newcomers were very welcome:

We know that the various Dukes of Beaufort kept an eye on squatters.

We have surveys of the Manor of Chepstow, dated 1584, 1687 and one from the 19th century. These are full of interest for local people and anyone interested in how people lived then. In them you’ll find a jury named. They were asked, on behalf of the Duke, a variety of questions about their knowledge of the manor.

Here is the jury from 1584

They are always asked what encroachments there are and it’s hard to imagine that the Duke just thought that it was nice to have new people around.

I now have to confess that I find reading these documents quite beyond me in places, so if I quote some, you’ll get gaps. So:

“Thomas Herbert ….. did enclose and wrongfully occupie by estimation 35 acres of land in the Vedowe; which his heirs do now hold….”

Also Jane Jenkin (a woman, note) hath enclosed and wrongfully occupied 30 acres of land in the said Vedowe and hath possessed the same ??? Years.

Item we present that Harris Richard hath enclosed and possessed by estimation (sorry..)..of land in the middle of the Vedw by the (what??!!) ..

These are just samples. They give you the idea. And then – you can be sure that the Duke of Beaufort’s agent would be off down the the Veddw to speak sternly to these squatters and start the process of giving them a lease, with a rent to pay.

Here is a glimpse of what we can find on leases..

I never imagined when I began trying to find out about Veddw House, which was clearly only an agricultural labourer’s cottage in the 19th century, that I would be able to discover very much. But far from it, and many years later I am not at an end of discovery.

You must try it!