The last villager

At the beginning of 1943 the Derbyshire village of Derwent stood abandoned by all but one remaining inhabitant. By the autumn of that year the village would be demolished, and waiting to be swallowed up by the rising waters that would inevitably follow the completion of the new dam, further down the valley.

Dalkin Barleythwaite had lived all of his seventy-three years in Derwent village, and he had no intention of living out his remaining time anywhere else. He stubbornly refused to be moved. One crisp, March morning, Dalkin was spotted by a fellow villager, striding out across the moor with his spaniel, Raif. The next time Dalkin was seen, he was lying lifeless at the foot of the steep crag that bounds one side of the natural rocky feature known as Alport Castles, a couple of miles North West of the village. One hundred feet above him, on the edge of the crag, a forlorn dog broke the morning stillness with echoing howls of anguish. The coroner’s verdict was “accidental death”, but Dalkin had been wandering that landscape since he could first walk, and no one who knew him believed for a moment that he went over the edge of those rocks by accident.

Ladybower reservoir has since become a very popular tourist destination, and, in the summer, the area is alive with walkers, cyclists and picnickers. Most visitors are unaware of the story of the village’s last occupant, but he is a familiar character to some of the keener enthusiasts for the outdoors. The hills and dales surrounding the Derwent valley can be bleak and inhospitable in winter, and only the more dedicated hiker is to be seen there during that part of the year. Those who do venture out onto that harsh landscape on a frosty morning, when a thin mist hangs over the valley and an eerie silence haunts the air, are apt to become aware of an extra presence among their number.

John Lampfoot, from the nearby village of Bamford, knows the area like the back of his hand; he also seems to have a sixth sense. He has an uncanny knack of knowing just where and when Dalkin will appear. From mid-December to the end of March, John takes small groups of walkers up onto the moor, where they will follow the path that Dolkin took on his last journey to Alport Castles. At some point along the way, John signals the travelers to stop, and there they will stand and wait. How he knows where to stop is a mystery even to John, but he is never wrong. The wait can be long or short, but, in time, a mist will start to form close to the ground and slowly rise upwards, then out of it will trudge Dalkin, looking purposeful and grim. On John’s signal the party will resume their trek, alongside their extra member. They carry on right up to the crag; coming to a stop just a few feet from the edge; except for Dalkin, of course.