Until recently, the name Montgomery meant little beyond the confines of a modest barn workshop on the outskirts of
Barnsley. Yet in a matter of months, the
Montgomery Housing Company has surged from obscurity to prominence—becoming the single largest property holder in four boroughs, and a name now spoken in both council chambers and corner shops alike.
At the heart of this rapid ascent lies a deceptively simple innovation: a modular housing design that fits ten compact dwellings and a small retail space into a structure once thought to hold no more than four flats. These buildings, subtly taller than their neighbours, blend into local streetscapes with familiar terracotta facades and hipped roofs. But look closer, and one sees the telltale compression—lower ceilings, tighter stairwells, and a marked economy of space.
The results have been nothing short of transformative. In
Barnsley,
Hayden,
Creston, and
Bellingville, 1060 new dwellings have sprung up on parcels of borough land once earmarked for development but left idle for years. Some structures even includes a street-facing shopfront—typically a greengrocer, butcher, or general provisions store—serving both new residents and the surrounding community.
The public response has been broadly positive. For many families, Montgomery’s developments offer a long-awaited answer to the region’s acute housing shortage. Borough officials, too, have praised the speed and cost-efficiency of construction. “We needed homes. Montgomery delivered,” said Councillor Elaine
Harrow of
Bellingville South.
Yet amidst the praise, murmurs of unease have begun to circulate. Montgomery, having ballooned in scope in mere months, now owns nearly a quarter of all residential buildings across its active boroughs. Critics warn of an emerging imbalance—one firm, one set of interests, one architectural vision shaping the urban future of four distinct communities.
“There’s no scandal,” said one planner in
Hayden who asked not to be named, “but it’s remarkable how quickly they’ve gone from upstart to empire. We don’t yet know what kind of landlord they’ll be—or what it means to have so much of the housing stock under a single banner.”
For now, there have been no evictions, no displacements. The land used was freely allocated for residential development. But concerns persist—not about what Montgomery has done, but about what it might do next. Expansion plans have yet to be announced, and the firm remains tight-lipped about future ambitions.
Still, the mood remains largely hopeful. Where once there were empty lots, now stand rows of modest homes. The smell of fresh plaster hangs in the air. Children play on newly laid footpaths. The corner shop lights glow late into the evening.
And somewhere behind it all, a once-tiny company watches, builds, and quietly redraws the map of metropolitan housing.