By Edward Adonteng, Special Projects Officer. Edward has curated a new display in the museum exploring Black Gardening in Britain, and his research continues.
John Ystumllyn (c.1738-1784/1786), also known as Jac Du or Jack Black, was a Black British gardener, craftsman and florist. The tale of how he ended up in Wales is still up for debate. According to his gravestone, it notes that he was born in the West Indies and was baptised in Wales. Some say he was stolen straight from his mother’s arms on the coast of West Africa, brought to London and sold amongst other African boys. This kidnapping is backed up by John’s recollection, stating that he remembers being on the banks of a stream, when he was accosted by white men. It is said that John lamented as he remembered the screams of his mother, who was in pursuit. Taken, as a piece of memorabilia from his home, like other young men, women, children, plants, animals and family heirlooms during the Atlantic Slave Trade.
It is reported to have been fashionable to have black children, mainly boys, as servants in households in London and across Europe during the 18th century. We can look at the example of the philosopher Anton Wilhelm Amo[1], who was taken from his home of Axim in Ghana and presented as a gift to members of the House of Weif.
I first came across Ystumllyn (pronounced us-tim-lynne) after the Frank Walter exhibition[2] closed, when Janine Nelson introduced me to Zehra Zaidi. Zehra and I spent over two hours on the phone, discussing his life, as well as Zehra’s compelling campaign[3] to get the John Ystumllyn Rose named in his honour – it was a painful and inspiring listen.
How to pronounce Ystumllyn, as demonstrated by Dr Marian Gwyn:
His portrait reminds me that his memory cannot just be a snapshot of him as a 16-year-old. John had a life before and after this painting, one that must be equally celebrated and enquired about in its entirety.

Most of what is known about John comes from a pamphlet made by Robert Isaac Jones in 1888[4]. Jones’ grandfather treated John in his later years and told stories about John’s life to his grandson, who became dutiful in carrying on the story so that it is “not lost to memory… as a means of keeping the story alive for the generations to come… “.
Jones’s account may not be entirely accurate because it was not a first-hand account, and was written well over 100 years after John’s death. Art historian Theo Mould is soon to publish his research into the painting, which will be the definitive study of John and his portrait.
John Ystumllyn was the name that was given to him. At the ages of six to eight, he was brought to the Ystumllyn estate in Cricceth by clergyman Ellis Wynne Sr. John had a hard time adjusting to his new surroundings and it is a shame that Jones remarks that the family “had considerable difficulty for a long time in domesticating him” as he had “no language, only something akin to a howl, or screams”. As a fellow poet, who constantly ponders on new ways that human beings can communicate, it is a shame to hear a poet describe a West African language in such a way.
Dr Marian Gwyn points out that Jones was part of efforts to protect the Welsh language in resistance against the legacies of the Reports of the Commissioners of Inquiry into the State of Education in Wales, commonly known as the Treason of the Blue Books. This report regarded Welsh people as dirty, lazy, ignorant and immoral. The report also maintained that teachers should only speak English in areas where children only spoke Welsh. The legacy of the Treason is ever-present today. Currently, only 17.9% of people in Wales speak Welsh as a first language. In a survey conducted last year, an estimated 27.7% of people aged three years and over were able to speak Welsh – which is the lowest percentage recorded in over eight years. A gentleman named Ollie, who I met in Cardiff, told me that after GCSEs, there isn’t much onus to speak Welsh in the major cities.

John learned how to speak and write in both English and Welsh. Eventually, he learned horticulture, which he did “more or less perfectly”, becoming a gardener on the estate. However, John was also celebrated for his craftsmanship, being able to “turn his hand to almost anything he saw someone else do, such as making small boats, wooden spoons, wicker baskets etc”. As he grew, he became the talk of the town as “young ladies of the area doted on him…there was much rivalry between them to get John as a suitor”, something Dr Gwyn and I giggled about. He was considered “a very honest man, with no malice and was respected by the gentry and common people alike”.
In his adult life, John would elope with the very woman who would – quite scaredly – provide him with food. Margaret Gruffydd was a maid at the Ystumllyn estate. Margaret would eventually move for work to Dolegellau and John – losing his post at Ystumllyn in the process – would shortly follow. Natalie Jones outlined to me the arduous journey that John would have to go through to be with Margaret. Currently, to get from Criccieth to Dolegellau on foot would take you 10 hours and 41 minutes, via the A470.
The A470 was first built in 1922, with the modern iteration being built in the 70s. The journey would have taken John days, but he took it upon himself with glee. After Margaret also ran away from her duties in Dolegellau, they were married in the church in 1768. They worked as land stewards for a short while, before John would later get his position back at Ystumllyn. His best man was Griffth Williams, Eisteddfa, the son of the Vicar of Criccieth, which signals that this union wasn’t entirely frowned upon. For his long service to the Wynne Family, Ystumllyn was given possession of a cottage called Y Nhyra Isa/Nanhyran. Ystumllyn continued to serve a branch of the Wynne family near Newport, in Maesyneuoedd when he died from jaundice at the age of 46.
How exactly did he end up here? Where did he come from? What is his legacy? How do we continue to view his life beyond the painting, which currently hangs in the Museum? In April, the painting will be heading to the British Library for their upcoming exhibition ‘Unearthed: The Power of Gardening’. I invite you to answer these questions with me when we say Farewell to John Ystumllyn on Tuesday 11 April: book tickets
Special thanks to Zehra Zaidi, Andrew Green, Dr Marian Gwyn and Natalie Jones for their work and consideration towards John’s story. But for also taking the time to speak with me and share their knowledge and contributions around him.
This portrait of John Ystumllyn is a central piece in our new ‘Black Gardening in Britain’ display in the museum, on temporary loan by kind arrangement of Anthony Mould.