Even travel during the first half of the 19th century was a perilous task. It is true that travelling on the armed Mail Coaches or scheduled stagecoaches with an armed guard had greatly improved safety, but a journey by carriage, chaise or unarmed stage was still a dangerous business. Highwaymen plied their trade along lonely stretches of the road and it was said it was advised to write a will before setting out on a journey.

The ghost of Lychpole Manor was that of a highwayman who worked the rough downland tracks on that side of the Findon boundary. Our local highwayman found that the lumbering long distance coaches provided relatively easy pickings. They carried the more affluent travellers who were more likely to be carrying larger sums of coin in their hide money-pouches. The tracks were dangerous places.

Our highwayman was eventually caught and taken prisoner, tried and convicted. His execution place was fixed to be on the ancient downland coach road wending between Steyning and the village of Lancing. It was the custom at the time to hang the accused at a point near the public road where the crime had been committed. A grave was dug in preparation across the centre of the track.

As he was taken to the gallows the highwayman pledged revenge. He vowed loud and clear that he would never rest and carriages and wagons would bump, jolt and jerk for ever more over his remains. His warning went unheeded. The highwayman was duly hanged on the verge of the coach road. They buried him in the prepared grave and shovelled the soil over his body and left the spot for the night.

The following morning the first passers-by received a shock. They discovered that his body had risen from the sod and his head had sprouted forth in the centre of the highway, mouth agape. It was indeed a macabre experience for those discovering it. Assistance was called and the convicted man was immediately re-buried. The result was the same and the following day his head had reappeared in the roadway like a grotesque puppet on strings. This happened many times. At this point sceptics may be thinking that this was bad workmanship on the part of the workmen digging a shallow grave — followed by the handiwork of wild foraging animals.

However, this is how the macabre legend of the spirit of Lychpole Manor came into existence — the apparition of the highwayman was to be seen mounted on a phantom horse and forever haunted the downland highway.

Strange tales relating to the story came to the ears of local people. A coach driver who frequented the lonely stretch was held up by a robber and on the spur of the moment decided not to halt when he heard the all too familiar words, "Stand and deliver". Instead of stopping, he cracked the whip, urged the horses to a frenzied pace and charged to "run the fellow down". The horses set off at a gallop. The leaders shied off to the nearside. The occupants of the coach were thrown about like children's playthings in a toy box.

It was said that the highwayman’s ghost rose up from the ground in the path of the coach. There was a creaking of wheels, clattering of hooves, wails and groans, and the coach swerved. The speeding vehicle passed straight through what appeared to be the apparition of the executed highwayman. The unearthly vision vanished. The coachman was extremely shaken on that day to say the least.

Wayfarers and many agricultural workers used with dread the haunted road on their way home at dusk after a long day’s work. They stoutly declared that their wagons collided with a strange soft object lying lengthways in the track. When they had alighted to investigate the obstacle there was nothing in sight. And so the stories abounded. If a future survey of twenty-first century motorists between Lancing and Steyning were undertaken, it would be interesting to note if any drivers still experienced a phantom "hump" in the road.

The strange tales of the appearance of the ghost of Lychpole Manor lingered for over a century. Then they grew less frequent and gradually subsided. The smugglers, being cunning masters of deception, at Lychpole most likely embroidered upon the story. It was, I deduce a smuggler-inspired deterrent to keep local folk indoors when they were moving their contraband. Scoundrelly smugglers would go to great lengths to frighten people from being on the roadways after nightfall when they were working their illegal goods up the highway to Steyning, or across country to Findon.

No one has seen or heard for many years the galloping hooves heralding the ghostly figure of the highwayman on his spectral horse below Cissbury Ring — but it can not be guaranteed if anyone has a mind to take a night time walk.

Continue if you would like to read about Raiders of a Local Post Office Pass Through Findon.