Why a Gen Z Londoner Can Graze Sheep on Land in the Welsh Valleys

Why a Gen Z Londoner can graze – Caleb Tutt’s life mirrors that of many young professionals in London, defined by financial commitments like rent and student loans, and a routine shaped by the demands of daily commutes and reliance on fast food. Yet, one distinct element sets his experience apart. At 24, he possesses the rare privilege of grazing livestock on common land in Llantrisant, a town nestled in the southern valleys of Wales, over 160 miles (257 kilometers) from his home. This title, known as the freemanship, is a 680-year-old tradition that grants him access to Cymdda Bach and Brynteg, two parcels of land owned by the community. While his peers navigate the fast-paced demands of urban life, Caleb’s connection to this ancient right offers a glimpse into a customs-rich past.

The Weight of Inheritance

Growing up in the home counties, Caleb said it was “painfully obvious to everyone within a few metres of me that I’m English.” But his ties to Wales are more than just geographical. Through his grandmother Gwen, he holds the status of a freeman in Llantrisant, a legacy passed down from her coal-mining family in Senghenydd and her background as a housewife in Pontypridd. This inheritance, tied to a family member already recognized as a freeman, feels both extraordinary and oddly personal. “Being able to trace my family back to that small hilltop town and the surrounding land is something I didn’t appreciate until I was right there,” he reflected.

“I think that’s the charm of the freemanship. It isn’t a lordship with swanky estates or privileges. It is literally the right to graze on a patch of grass in south Wales.”

The ceremony, which Caleb recently attended, was a moment of unexpected connection. “We were all aware that we weren’t being knighted or accepting a peerage,” he noted. “We all knew that the right we stood to gain was fairly inconsequential as inherited birthrights go.” Despite its modest scale, the event carried a weight of history, with participants signing an 18th-century ledger—a document that, according to Caleb, seems “a bit like a grand coronation with ermine cloaks and gold” in his mind. However, the reality of the celebration was far less dramatic than his youthful imagination had envisioned.

A Ceremonial Tradition

The freemanship ceremony took place at Llantrisant Guildhall, where Caleb and around 20 other new freemen gathered. The event began with the chairman calling for the Mace of Llantrisant, an ornate silver rod that symbolizes the community’s authority. “It made me feel like we were in Parliament,” Caleb remarked. This ceremonial tool, he learned, is older than the Crown Jewels and has survived historical upheavals, including Oliver Cromwell’s attempt to melt down any remaining precious metal bearing Charles I’s emblem.

While the mace’s historical significance is clear, its recent journey is a tale of resourcefulness. Caleb was told the mace once disappeared in the 19th century when some Londoners came to claim their freemanship. “Apparently they stole the mace and sold it to secure some transport funds,” he said, adding a touch of irony. The mace was later rediscovered by its new owner, who realized its value. “It didn’t exactly do me any favours as I too was a new freeman who had come from London, and is also pretty broke,” Caleb chuckled. The anecdote left him feeling a bit watched, as if the community might suspect him of repeating the same act.

“I think deep down I knew that I only stood to gain the right to graze a sheep or two in a country I don’t live in, but I didn’t have much to go on.”

The ceremony itself was a blend of formality and warmth, with new freemen confirming their lineage before exchanging handshakes and receiving a ceremonial necktie or scarf. For Caleb, the experience was both humbling and fascinating. “It was great, nothing like the weird coronation I had imagined when I was younger,” he admitted. The event’s simplicity contrasted with his earlier expectations of grandeur, where he had envisioned a scene reminiscent of Anne Hathaway’s dramatic moments in *The Princess Diaries*—a mix of dignity and spectacle.

Common Land and Cultural Roots

Common land, a concept rooted in medieval times, allows freemen to graze animals on plots managed collectively by the local community. Caleb’s right to this land is a reminder of Wales’ unique social structures, where ownership and usage are intertwined. “The freemanship isn’t about wealth or status,” he emphasized. “It’s about a connection to the land that’s been passed through generations.” This tradition, he said, adds a layer of cultural pride to an otherwise modern lifestyle. “Being able to go back to the room on the hilltop where my Welsh ancestors wrote their name in the exact same book was pretty emotional,” Caleb shared. Even for someone who considers themselves “cynical at the best of times,” the moment was profound.

The ceremony also highlighted the communal nature of the freemanship. While individual privileges are limited, the tradition fosters a sense of belonging. “It’s not just about what I can do,” Caleb explained. “It’s about the shared history and the idea that this right is something we all have a stake in.” This perspective aligns with the broader purpose of common land in Wales, which has long served as a space for both practical use and symbolic heritage.

Despite the allure of the freemanship, Caleb admitted he’s still figuring out how to apply it. “I think even if I wanted to graze livestock, I wouldn’t know where to begin,” he said. The process, he noted, feels like a puzzle with missing pieces. “It’s like finding a fiver down the back of the sofa—something unexpected but not entirely life-changing.” Yet, for Caleb, the experience is a meaningful reminder of the past. “It’s a way to feel connected to a place I didn’t think I’d ever belong to,” he said.

A Tale of Two Worlds

As Caleb navigates his life in London, the freemanship serves as a bridge to his Welsh roots. The contrast between his urban existence and the rural tradition is stark. While his daily routine is dictated by convenience and efficiency, the freemanship offers a slower, more reflective rhythm. “It’s a small thing, but it feels like a big deal,” he said. The ceremony, with its mix of history and humor, encapsulates this duality. “Even my dad couldn’t remember many details from his ceremony,” Caleb noted. “This might be because it’s followed by a dinner where the drink is pretty free flowing.”

For Caleb, the freemanship is a testament to the resilience of Welsh heritage in the face of modernity. “It’s a reminder that some traditions are worth holding onto,” he added. While the practical benefits of grazing sheep are minimal, the symbolic value is immense. “It’s like having a piece of history that you can touch and feel,” he said. As he continues to explore his connection to the land, Caleb’s journey reflects a broader story of identity and legacy in an era where heritage is often overlooked.