"Where there's a mine or a hole in the ground,
That's where I'm heading for, that's where I'm bound.
Look for me under the lode or inside the vein.
Oh where the copper, the clay, where the arsenic and tin,
Run in your blood and get under your skin,
I'm leaving the county behind,
And I'm not coming back,
So follow me down cousin Jack."
(Steve Knightley - Cousin Jack)
Stephen King popularised the term Tommyknockers with his 1987 book but it really doesn't apply properly and it's not one of his best.
I have taken the liberty of using this theme for this short story, set in a coal mine somewhere south of Leeds.It was read out on Sheffield Live's Write Radio on 19th January 2018.
The Knockers
This story was passed down to my granddad by his granddad. Back in those days boys would be sent down the pit at 10 years old - they'd only just made it illegal for under 10s to work underground. The boy's name was Arthur, and this is his story:
It was my first day down the pit and I was scared. I was 11 years old. There were a couple of bigger boys in the cage but most of the men were like giants looming above me - laughing, swearing, joking. That first day was horrible - it was dirty, noisy and the men were just shouting at me to do stuff and I didn't know what to do. At the end I was so tired but one of the men, Jim, slapped my shoulder as we walked back to the shaft and said "Well done, lad. Tha'll do alraight."
The next day as we were getting into the cage another man called George said "Hay, lads, we haven't told Arthur about the Knockers". "Aye, we'd better tell 'im" said Jim. I looked at my dad but he just nodded. So they told me - we'd had a big accident about twenty years before and the roof had caved in - it was bad. There was no chance of clearing it away so after two days they gave up. Thirteen men were behind that rock fall. "I hope to God they were crushed" one of the men said - I didn't understand why he said that at the time like I do now. After a few weeks some men working in the mine could hear noises coming from behind the seam - "Knock, knock, knock, knock". Whoever heard it (and not everybody did) would always end up in an accident - sometimes dead. "Old Billy Reardon had his foot chopped off after he 'eard them Knockers" said Joe Birkenshaw, quite casually.
A few days later we were working when suddenly I heard some strange knocking sounds from what seemed like the other side of the seam. George was working near me but didn't seem to notice. "Knock, knock, knock, knock" - every few minutes. I was starting to get nervous and eventually I asked George if he could hear anything - "Aye, man, I can hear you yammering!". Later that afternoon, in the quiet after we'd blasted the face, I heard a voice, quite clearly, say "Arthur, it's your turn. Run" - nobody else moved. "DID YOU HEAR THAT!!" I yelled. "Hear what?" said Joe. Then all the lights except mine went out. Well that was it, I was gone. Up that face towards the shaft but with only my candle to see with. Suddenly the ground went strange - softer. My light had blown out and it was pitch black - I really panicked then and started crying and sat down.
Suddenly I saw a light - a lamp, I was saved. As the light came closer I could see a miner's face. It was old and wrinkled and the light reflected from one milky eye and one piercing blue one. "Now then, lad", he said, "what tha doin' 'ere". I told him what had happened and he chuckled but I didn't think it was funny. "Oh, they got you, didn't they!" "What do you mean?" I said. "Well, all the new boys get this - they know 'ow to make them noises and voices so that thi sound like it's comin' from behind t'face", he said in his raspy voice. "It's a joke, but they've put you in a bit o'trouble - tha sees, darn there's the old workings and tha ran past t'danger sign. Nar, walk slowly in t'direction I point thi in and when tha comes to a wall, tonn left, keep guin and when tha gets to't next wall, guh rait. Tha'll be safe then - there's no Knockers." Then he leaned over me and said "When tha gets back, tell 'em this.." and he whispered a message in my ear. Then he relit my candle and turned me round, pushing me lightly in the back. "Off tha' guz, lad". I set off and followed his directions.
At last I was back on the seam. "Ayup, 'ere 'e is!" said Jim - they all laughed but my dad looked relieved. "You do know it worra joke!" said Joe. "Yeah, I do. A miner found me and sent me back. 'E told me what you did." "Good, that's that then." said my dad. "One thing," I added, "'e told me to tell you that the thirteen said to take more care." Everybody went silent. Joe had gone whiter than normal behind his coaly face. "Are yer sure? What did he look like?" he asked. "Old," I said, "with one blue eye and one milky one, Raspy voice." The silence continued. "What's wrong," I asked, as they all looked at each other. Then Dad said - "That was your mam's Uncle Tommy." "I don't know him - I know all our family who's down 'ere", I said. "Oh no", Dad said, "You never met 'im. 'E was one of t'men buried in that accident 20 year ago."
(c) Tim Fellows 2017
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