Around twenty years ago, I was commissioned by the Wirksworth Heritage Centre to create a tale for T’Owd Man. For me, creating a folktale from scratch means that you have to pay your respects to the past and any existing folklore, in order to craft something that has an air of authenticity to it, even if you are not trying to claim it as such. I have chosen to portray T’Owd Man himself as a Knocker or something similar to the little red hairy man. I decided to place him in a classic tale of sibling rivalry, between a lazy and bullying elder brother and a thoughtful and generous younger brother - not unlike the tale of the Little Red Hairy Man. It is a simple morality tale about paying respect to tradition and, ultimately, everyone getting their just desserts in the end. Enjoy …
The Tale of T’Owd Man
Many, many years ago there lived a miner from Cromford named Osbert, who had two sons, Randolph and Alfred. Now Randolph was the eldest son, but he was a very unpleasant fellow indeed. He was a lazy, selfish bully. He was the kind of person who would always try to get others to do his work for him, but never would he pay them or reward them for this and when he did do any work himself, he would do it as quickly and shoddily as possible. Despite this, Randolph had his followers, as bullies often do. But these were not true friends, but those kinds of people cowardly enough to follow any bragging bully, hoping for the scraps from his table.
Alfred, on the other hand, was the total opposite to his elder brother; he was hard-working, and generous, and always ready to turn his hand to helping others. He was a very wise young man for his years and many would seek out his advice. Indeed, the name ‘Alfred’ in Old Saxon meant ‘advised by the elves’ and many would whisper that perhaps this was where his wisdom came from. That may well have been the case, as this tale will tell.
Now both Randolph and Alfred would work down the mines with their father, though, truth be told, Randolph did little work and would often find excuses to skive off from his duties. It was during their time underground that the sons of Osbert learnt of T’Owd Man from their father, who would say to them:
“T’Owd Man has been here since the days of the Old Gods; Odin, Thor and the like, from when our ancestors first came here. He was one of the dwarves who lived in Dark Elf Land, Svartalfheim, as they used to call the underground in the old tongue.”
“Now mind you always show him his due respect; leave him a little of your crust, a splash of your ale and bid him goodbye as you leave the mine. And mind you never whistle down the mine, for ‘tis said the dwarves have mighty keen hearing and the whistling sound does annoy them so!”
And with that, Osbert would tear the crust from his pastie, splash a puddle of his ale from his flask and doff his cap to T’Owd Man, as he continued his work. Now of course, Alfred took his father’s wise words to heart and would always follow his lead; leaving a little food and drink for T’Owd Man, wishing him a ‘farewell’ at the end of the day and never ever whistling, but often, instead, singing sweet songs that filled the tunnels with music. However, Randolph scoffed at such stories of T’Owd Man and he would go out of his way to be contrary; making sure he ate and drank every scrap of his food and drink, whistling as he worked and hurling insults down the mine shafts, as he laughed at his father’s and brother’s old superstitions.
Now it came to pass that age finally caught up with old Osbert and one dark day he died, leaving his mines to his sons. However, in those days it was the tradition that the eldest son received the lion’s share of the inheritance, so it was Randolph who took the best and richest of the mines, leaving only one mined-out old tunnel for Alfred to work and support his family from.
Even so, Alfred continued to work hard in his mine. He always remembered Osbert’s words and no matter how hard times might be, he would always leave something behind for T’Owd Man to eat and drink and remember to greet him and bid him farewell when entering and leaving the mine. Perhaps it was his hard work, good fortune or something else entirely, but, after a while, Alfred started to find new seams of lead in his mine, the mine that everyone else had thought empty and he began to make a good enough living to support his family.
Before long, Alfred’s ‘mining luck’ became the talk of Cromford, Wirksworth, Bonsall and beyond. Of course, talk of Alfred’s good fortune fell upon Randolph’s ears and he began to get jealous of his younger brother. For even though Randolph had taken for himself the richest mines, he was too lazy to work them properly and less and less people were willing to work them for him, so poor was his miserly reputation.
So, one drunken evening, Randolph and a couple of his remaining followers hatched an evil plot to bring about misfortune for Alfred. The very following evening, as the sun was setting, Randolph and his cronies turned up outside Alfred’s mine with evil intent. Knowing that Alfred often worked late and would be inside the mine at that very moment, Randolph and his men began to beat their hammers at the entrance to Alfred’s mine to weaken it and, tying a stout pony with ropes to the mine’s supporting timbers, they pulled and pulled until the entrance to Alfred’s mine collapsed, sealing Alfred in the darkness.
Deep in his mine, Alfred heard the unmistakable rumbling that could only be a cave-in. With his little pottery oil lamp in hand, Alfred ran up the tunnels to the mine entrance, only to find it sealed by tonnes of stout Derbyshire stone. Alfred sat down on a rock, staring hopelessly at the unyielding rock that prevented his escape from the mine. He knew he could never hope to move so much rock on his own, certainly not before his light, food and then his strength gave out. In deepest despair, Alfred began to think of his family who he would never see again and he began to sing a sweet but sad song.
The notes of the song travelled down the tunnels of the mine, even to its deepest darks. As he sung, Alfred thought he heard a faint sound; ‘tap, tap, tappitty tap’. He immediately stopped his song and listened again; ‘tap, tap, tappitty tap’. The sound was definitely getting louder and nearer. ‘Tap, tap, tappitty tap’ went the sound again. Alfred got up and began to follow the sound, trotting off down the tunnels in the direction it seemed to be coming from. Now and again, Alfred thought he glimpsed a faintly glimmering light and occasionally, a small but stout shadowy figure – but that could be a trick of the light.
The ‘tap, tap, tappitty tap’ sound always remained a little ahead of Alfred, as it led him further and further into the mine, even into tunnels he never knew existed. It seemed like Alfred followed the ‘tap, tap, tappitty tap’ sound for hours, until ahead of him he noticed glimmerings and reflections from his own faltering oil lamp flame. Stepping forward, Alfred emerged into a small cave, only to find it crammed with a king’s ransom in gold, jewels and treasures, all of them reflecting his own meagre light. And there, standing at the other end of the cave was the small, stout figure that Alfred had thought he had seen earlier. The figure was dressed in miner’s clothes and carried a pick and kibble. But no sooner had Alfred seen him than the light from his lamp finally flickered and died, plunging the cave into darkness. But the darkness was not to last long. For, within moments, morning sunlight began to stream in through a hole in the back of the cave, but of the mysterious, small, stout miner, there was nothing to be seen.
So it was that Alfred managed to find the hidden way out of the mine and took his treasures home with him. The treasure meant that Alfred never needed to mine again, but he was always keen to tell everyone about T’Owd Man and did his best to make sure that everyone knew how T’Owd Man should be treated. And it may well be because of Alfred that we still know about T’Owd Man today.
Now you may think that that is the end of the story, but this is not one of those ‘happily ever after’ tales and there is, in truth, a much darker end to this tale. For not long after Alfred’s good fortune, his brother, Randolph, came to him, all sweetness and light, hoping for a charitable handout from the brother he tried to kill. Knowing that his brother was expecting something of him, Alfred said this:
“Well brother, as you know, I do not need to work in the mine anymore, so I will gift to you the mine that brought me such good fortune. I am sure that if you work hard and pay T’Owd Man his due respect, then the mine will be as generous with you as it was with me.”
And, with that, Randolph left.
A few days later, Randolph and his two remaining cronies entered the mine, all expecting to turn up yet more treasure. But, Randolph, as ever, took no notice of any talk of T’Owd Man and plunged on, whistling into the depths of the mine. A few days later Randolph’s cronies were found gibbering stories of unearthly sounds, a ‘tap, tap, tappitty tap’ that seemed to come from the depths of the mine. The sound seemed to come from everywhere they said, so they ran from the cave in mortal fear, while Randolph was lost to the darkness ...
The End
© Simon Unsworth 2025
The Tale of T’Owd Man
Many, many years ago there lived a miner from Cromford named Osbert, who had two sons, Randolph and Alfred. Now Randolph was the eldest son, but he was a very unpleasant fellow indeed. He was a lazy, selfish bully. He was the kind of person who would always try to get others to do his work for him, but never would he pay them or reward them for this and when he did do any work himself, he would do it as quickly and shoddily as possible. Despite this, Randolph had his followers, as bullies often do. But these were not true friends, but those kinds of people cowardly enough to follow any bragging bully, hoping for the scraps from his table.
Alfred, on the other hand, was the total opposite to his elder brother; he was hard-working, and generous, and always ready to turn his hand to helping others. He was a very wise young man for his years and many would seek out his advice. Indeed, the name ‘Alfred’ in Old Saxon meant ‘advised by the elves’ and many would whisper that perhaps this was where his wisdom came from. That may well have been the case, as this tale will tell.
Now both Randolph and Alfred would work down the mines with their father, though, truth be told, Randolph did little work and would often find excuses to skive off from his duties. It was during their time underground that the sons of Osbert learnt of T’Owd Man from their father, who would say to them:
“T’Owd Man has been here since the days of the Old Gods; Odin, Thor and the like, from when our ancestors first came here. He was one of the dwarves who lived in Dark Elf Land, Svartalfheim, as they used to call the underground in the old tongue.”
“Now mind you always show him his due respect; leave him a little of your crust, a splash of your ale and bid him goodbye as you leave the mine. And mind you never whistle down the mine, for ‘tis said the dwarves have mighty keen hearing and the whistling sound does annoy them so!”
And with that, Osbert would tear the crust from his pastie, splash a puddle of his ale from his flask and doff his cap to T’Owd Man, as he continued his work. Now of course, Alfred took his father’s wise words to heart and would always follow his lead; leaving a little food and drink for T’Owd Man, wishing him a ‘farewell’ at the end of the day and never ever whistling, but often, instead, singing sweet songs that filled the tunnels with music. However, Randolph scoffed at such stories of T’Owd Man and he would go out of his way to be contrary; making sure he ate and drank every scrap of his food and drink, whistling as he worked and hurling insults down the mine shafts, as he laughed at his father’s and brother’s old superstitions.
Now it came to pass that age finally caught up with old Osbert and one dark day he died, leaving his mines to his sons. However, in those days it was the tradition that the eldest son received the lion’s share of the inheritance, so it was Randolph who took the best and richest of the mines, leaving only one mined-out old tunnel for Alfred to work and support his family from.
Even so, Alfred continued to work hard in his mine. He always remembered Osbert’s words and no matter how hard times might be, he would always leave something behind for T’Owd Man to eat and drink and remember to greet him and bid him farewell when entering and leaving the mine. Perhaps it was his hard work, good fortune or something else entirely, but, after a while, Alfred started to find new seams of lead in his mine, the mine that everyone else had thought empty and he began to make a good enough living to support his family.
Before long, Alfred’s ‘mining luck’ became the talk of Cromford, Wirksworth, Bonsall and beyond. Of course, talk of Alfred’s good fortune fell upon Randolph’s ears and he began to get jealous of his younger brother. For even though Randolph had taken for himself the richest mines, he was too lazy to work them properly and less and less people were willing to work them for him, so poor was his miserly reputation.
So, one drunken evening, Randolph and a couple of his remaining followers hatched an evil plot to bring about misfortune for Alfred. The very following evening, as the sun was setting, Randolph and his cronies turned up outside Alfred’s mine with evil intent. Knowing that Alfred often worked late and would be inside the mine at that very moment, Randolph and his men began to beat their hammers at the entrance to Alfred’s mine to weaken it and, tying a stout pony with ropes to the mine’s supporting timbers, they pulled and pulled until the entrance to Alfred’s mine collapsed, sealing Alfred in the darkness.
Deep in his mine, Alfred heard the unmistakable rumbling that could only be a cave-in. With his little pottery oil lamp in hand, Alfred ran up the tunnels to the mine entrance, only to find it sealed by tonnes of stout Derbyshire stone. Alfred sat down on a rock, staring hopelessly at the unyielding rock that prevented his escape from the mine. He knew he could never hope to move so much rock on his own, certainly not before his light, food and then his strength gave out. In deepest despair, Alfred began to think of his family who he would never see again and he began to sing a sweet but sad song.
The notes of the song travelled down the tunnels of the mine, even to its deepest darks. As he sung, Alfred thought he heard a faint sound; ‘tap, tap, tappitty tap’. He immediately stopped his song and listened again; ‘tap, tap, tappitty tap’. The sound was definitely getting louder and nearer. ‘Tap, tap, tappitty tap’ went the sound again. Alfred got up and began to follow the sound, trotting off down the tunnels in the direction it seemed to be coming from. Now and again, Alfred thought he glimpsed a faintly glimmering light and occasionally, a small but stout shadowy figure – but that could be a trick of the light.
The ‘tap, tap, tappitty tap’ sound always remained a little ahead of Alfred, as it led him further and further into the mine, even into tunnels he never knew existed. It seemed like Alfred followed the ‘tap, tap, tappitty tap’ sound for hours, until ahead of him he noticed glimmerings and reflections from his own faltering oil lamp flame. Stepping forward, Alfred emerged into a small cave, only to find it crammed with a king’s ransom in gold, jewels and treasures, all of them reflecting his own meagre light. And there, standing at the other end of the cave was the small, stout figure that Alfred had thought he had seen earlier. The figure was dressed in miner’s clothes and carried a pick and kibble. But no sooner had Alfred seen him than the light from his lamp finally flickered and died, plunging the cave into darkness. But the darkness was not to last long. For, within moments, morning sunlight began to stream in through a hole in the back of the cave, but of the mysterious, small, stout miner, there was nothing to be seen.
So it was that Alfred managed to find the hidden way out of the mine and took his treasures home with him. The treasure meant that Alfred never needed to mine again, but he was always keen to tell everyone about T’Owd Man and did his best to make sure that everyone knew how T’Owd Man should be treated. And it may well be because of Alfred that we still know about T’Owd Man today.
Now you may think that that is the end of the story, but this is not one of those ‘happily ever after’ tales and there is, in truth, a much darker end to this tale. For not long after Alfred’s good fortune, his brother, Randolph, came to him, all sweetness and light, hoping for a charitable handout from the brother he tried to kill. Knowing that his brother was expecting something of him, Alfred said this:
“Well brother, as you know, I do not need to work in the mine anymore, so I will gift to you the mine that brought me such good fortune. I am sure that if you work hard and pay T’Owd Man his due respect, then the mine will be as generous with you as it was with me.”
And, with that, Randolph left.
A few days later, Randolph and his two remaining cronies entered the mine, all expecting to turn up yet more treasure. But, Randolph, as ever, took no notice of any talk of T’Owd Man and plunged on, whistling into the depths of the mine. A few days later Randolph’s cronies were found gibbering stories of unearthly sounds, a ‘tap, tap, tappitty tap’ that seemed to come from the depths of the mine. The sound seemed to come from everywhere they said, so they ran from the cave in mortal fear, while Randolph was lost to the darkness ...
The End
© Simon Unsworth 2025