3] The Highwayman

There are a number of accounts of the ghost of the highwayman of Pluckley. There are no records as to who he was, where he came from and when he lived. It is possible that this is yet another tale made up to enhance the popular myth of Pluckley's many ghosts. 

If he existed who killed him is another unknown - some say he was pursued and killed by his enemies, possibly villains like himself, but others state that he was 'run to earth' which would suggest his attackers were on the side of the law. 

One of the popular versions says that: near Pluckley is an old common - not as extensive as Hampstead Heath or Heathrow (favourite haunts of highwaymen) but no doubt providing a fairly profitable living for gentlemen of the road. Through Hothfield common, on the road from Ashford to Maidstone, led a Toll road, so it was frequented by a reasonable amount of traffic and is generally accepted to have attracted various villains. 

In the latter part of the 18th century, a local highwayman was cornered by the Bow Street Runners (early cops) and, trying to escape, was pursued down through Pluckley village. Taking a fork by the Blacksmith's Arms Inn and forge, he headed for the forest. 

Ghosts
 
At the crossroads stood an old hollow oak tree. The runners were out of sight. Leaping from his horse, our villain secreted himself inside the oak with not a moment to lose, and waited with bated breath for them to go past. Unfortunately he reckoned without his horse. Left to itself the animal, instead of cantering on into the woods, put its head down and started to graze. Allowing the others to continue, one Bow Street Runner remained behind. Inspecting the area, he noticed that one of the trees was hollow. Creeping up to it, he plunged his sword into a knothole, thereby piercing the highwayman through the heart. 

Another account tells not of the traditionally horse-mounted highwayman but of a sneaky footpad who would secrete himself in the hollow of the old tree awaiting the arrival of unfortunate unsuspecting victims. Allowing the traveller to pass by he would creep out from his hide and execute a surprise attack. Word of the scoundrel's practice reached a man about to journey the road past Frith Corner - a man who was no fool, had little fear and certainly no intention of falling victim to such a cowardly attack.

He approached the corner as though completely unaware of the lurking danger but when only a few feet from the tree he drew his sword, moved swiftly forward and thrust the blade deep in the hollow.