This website created by Valerie Martin, contains scenes from her home village of Findon, West Sussex, U.K.
|
|
|
An impression of how Michelgrove looked before renovations in 1769. The property was said to contain 50 rooms. The alterations were to encase the building in cream-coloured brick. The internal courtyard was made into a hall that was 53 feet by 27ft. and 40 feet high, rising above the rest of the building with four square towers at its corners. |
FINDON’S MOUNTED POSTBOY
(and the ghost story of his murderer)
Text copyright Valerie Martin 1999
First published in Along the Furlong in May 1999.
Revised Edition in the West Sussex Gazette in April 2000.
At the beginning of King George III’s reign, I have discovered that the postal address for the village of Findon was not Worthing as it is now, but Findon near Arundel. The mail transportation was by mounted postboy. He rode his horse from Steyning to Arundel, and collected the mail in Findon for the four hundred or so inhabitants en route. No need for extravagant addresses in those days; the name of the recipient and the village would suffice. It seems as though it was a form of Pony Express, Findon style — but not quite on the scale of the St. Joseph, Missouri to Sacramento, California run. I believe that the system survived until the first mail coach drawn by four horses appeared in 1784.
|
|
A postboy was usually a simple man who could neither read nor write. After calling at Findon, he hit the trail again for the next couple of miles heading towards Michelgrove.
Half an hour later he trotted up to the mansion where he halted for a meal. Perhaps he had a packed lunch, with a nosebag of fodder for his horse. Maybe he went to the servants' quarters and was invited by the cook to a sit down meal at the kitchen table. Without a doubt he departed having had his fill of bread and cheese. As he approached his horse he would likely be seen wiping his lips with the back of his hand — to dispense of any froth from his last swig at a pot of beer. We will never know exactly what he did, but it is true to say that he did partake of his meals at Michelgrove before feeling refreshed and continuing his journey.
During the 1770s, William Boldery was the mounted postboy with a certain air of importance, employed on this postal run. The collection point in Findon would probably have been at the
Gun Inn at the Square.|
|
|
The Gun Inn in April 2000. |
It is certainly known that by 1798 the Post Office was housed at the inn premises (called the Receiving House). The inn most likely accommodated the post office much earlier, as innkeepers were well placed to offer post horses and stabling for His Majesty’s riders. Mail arrived three times each week from London and elsewhere for the villagers. The Findon post was despatched six times each week.
|
|
|
1997 — The two 18th century Lodge Houses on the entrance road to Michelgrove — they may have been passed by Jack Boldery on his way to the big house. |
|
|
|
1997 — The remains of the magnificent mansion that was Michelgrove where Jack Boldery ate his lunch. |
|
1997 — A section of Michelgrove's walling on the left-hand side of the photograph and a turret from the early 18th century. |
|
|
|
This is how the palatial mansion of Michelgrove appeared in its hey-day. The residence was one of the finest in Sussex and was noted for the beauty of its interior of carved wood. |
|
|
|
The glory that was Michelgrove. |
One day in 1771, William Boldery was waylaid by two men and brutally robbed on the King’s highway at a desolate spot beyond Michelgrove. The sea lay in the distance and Arundel Castle was visible on the horizon.
|
A likeness of Arundel Castle in the 18th century at the time of the robbery. |
From the two culprits who had planned the attack, only one was eventually caught. This was Jack, a simple fellow from the Upperton family living in Wepham. The other villain got clean away and Jack refused to turn informer. Apparently the local vicar visited Jack in his cell and the prisoner told him —
"it was a scrambling sort of turn-out"
— whatever that meant. He was accused of the crime and duly sent for trial. The case was heard at East Grinstead Assize court, some forty miles away and presumably Jack Upperton passed through the centre of Findon en route.
The gaol would have been crowded with felons and the inns packed with litigants and witnesses. The court it is assumed was an impressive chamber, and the justices sober-looking. The public benches were crowded with everyone seeking entertainment.
"Bring up the prisoner". The Clerk of the Court would have called.
There may have been a general drawing in of breath as Jack Upperton was brought to stand at the bar facing the clerk. Sitting a higher level, the circuit judge said,
"Read the charge," followed by "How plead you?"
Probably the voice droned on and welled in his ears. There would have been a stirring in the courtroom. No clemency for his lawless act. The court was silent as the judge, Baron Perrett, passed sentence for his scurrilous deed. He sat in the back of the dock and heard a rumbling of approval at the back of the court. Most likely a general buzz broke out and a backwash in tiny rivulets of talk lapped around the courtroom. Before he could blink he realised that he was to be hanged and…
"afterwards to be hung in chains on the most convenient spot upon Burpham New Downs nearest the gate at the end of Blakehurst Lane near Arundel".
The prisoner would have stood in a daze, not quite knowing whether to believe the verdict echoing around him. Amid hisses, he would have been led away and the day’s work in the courtroom continued.
It was the custom at this time, following the hanging, to display criminals in chains at a point near the king's highway where the crime had been committed. It was to deter others from committing a similar offence. The bodies were often smothered in tar to make them survive for longer out in the elements — and then encased in made-to-measure body irons or skeleton suits.
The local blacksmith would
have been called and paid £5 for making the irons
and chains for Jack— surely a grisly task for someone in the village that he knew.
Hangings were public occasions in those days and everyone for miles around flocked to witness the spectacle — sometimes as many as 3,000 attended. A day's hanging was often accompanied by all the trappings of an outing and a carnival. Special stands were erected to ensure a good view by the morbid public who were straining for a better view; telescopes were hired to those at the back; gingerbread, oranges and ginger pop were also for sale to refresh the tired and weary from their journey to the execution. Costermongers with their wares often came from nearby Brighton to hangings elesewhere in the country . Beer shop owners on a day out did a roaring trade — many no doubt wished there was a hanging on every day of the week to attend.
It is not known what exactly happened at Jack's demise and how many attended but he was eventually hanged. Jack Upperton's end came at the north-west side of Angmering Park Wood, south of Burpham and Wepham. The area in those days would have been open downland and not so encroached by woodland.
Rotting bodies swinging and creaking eeriely in clanging chains were a common sight on hillsides and crossroads back in the eighteenth century. Legends soon abounded around the site of Jack's gibbet. His bones were said to be still rattling from the stake two years after his execution.
There appears to be no actual documented ghost story but it is known that villagers talked about Jack Upperton's ghost and many felt a shiver when passing the area. A story has been passed down about a stranger who was being shown the gibbet. He was informed that the ghost of the last highwayman had also been seen there. A local wag who was in hiding at the time then called out at the crucial moment in the tale — "and here he is". The prank resulted in the total collapse of stranger.
The gory remains of the stump of this gibbet post could still be seen proud of the ground in the middle of the nineteenth century. Murderers, together with criminals and persons committing suicide, were traditionally buried in unconsecrated ground near ancient crossroads as a warning to others. These intersections were especially feared after dark as they were considered to be haunted.
The site of the gallows can be found at the far end of Blakehurst Lane. The exact map reference I can confirm to be TQ 051 077.
In 1912, Henry, the 15th Duke of Norfolk and Earl Marshal of England said that he remembered seeing the last remnants of the original macabre stump of the old gibbet post when he was a boy.
By 1951 all that passers-by could see marking the spot was an iron pole with an oak board attached bearing the inscription "J.U. 1771".
|
|
|
21st April 2000. The track from Michelgrove where it meets the intersection of pathways. 25 yards into the wood I stumbled across the location of the gibbet. |
I discovered the site easily in April 2000 at the northern tip of Gibbet Piece on the opposite side of the trackway. The actual location was 25 yards north of the track in the wood surrounded by a smattering of bluebells overlooking a precipice drop. I sighted a herd of ten deer in the vicinity and suspect more were hidden close by watching me.
|
|
|
21st April 2000 — The rust encrusted iron post protruding from the ground marks the spot where Jack Upperton met his end. |
|
|
|
In April 2000 I found that the plaque displayed the incorrect date of 1774, together with a depiction of the gallows. |
Jack Upperton was one of the last in Sussex to be hanged in chains and his remains may well still lie buried, undisturbed in the vicinity today. For many years there was a hole where the gibbet had stood. One day a huntsman's horse had a bad fall and was injured at the spot and after that the hole was filled in.
On Wednesday 13th April, 1799, the last execution and gibbeting took place in Sussex.
At least two unfortunate postboys over the years, on the run between Arundel and Steyning, were murdered for their postbags carrying the Findon mail.
In the 1980s a descendant of Jack Upperton (by now the seventh generation down the line) decided it was about time that a new commemorative plaque should be erected to mark the gibbet location. Unfortunately, in his enthusiasm he inscribed the incorrect date of 1774 on his sign. It was considered by his family that no one would be really interested in his handiwork and he went on to erect the plaque.
By the year 2000 many had been confused by the mystery of the new date that had appeared. The culprit causing the confusion is now hopefully prepared to make a new sign with the correct date of 1771 to show where his ancestor was hung in chains.
The following is an extract from a letter published in the West Sussex Gazette on Thursday 4th May 2000 —
|
I have recently returned to live in Sussex and visited the area where I knew the post and plaque to be. Out of interest my mother's name is Elenor May Moore (nee Upperton), her twin sister's name is Violet Pamela Light (nee Upperton). They were born at 105 Burpham (first cottage on left in Wepham), as was their father, Albert Upperton and his mother Ellen Upperton and her mother, Pamela Upperton. I wonder if Jack Upperton was born there? Incidentally we were always informed that he was our great, great, great, great, great uncle…… Lorna Moore, Glenfern, Worthing Road, Littlehampton, West Sussex, BN17 6JS. |
The reason for the mansion of Michelgrove now laying in ruin — in 1828 the Michelgrove Estate was purchased by Bernard the 12th Duke of Norfolk. Half a century later, the magnificent house, on which so much money had been lavished, was levelled to the ground by Henry the 15th Duke of Norfolk's men and the park partly cut down and abandoned. The Michelgrove area then became famed for its racing stables, and several equine celebrities were trained there.
Continue with the Jack Upperton story in my article entitled Slaying Most Foul.
