My Grandfather Arthur Henry Bartlett (1880-1968) and his two sons Arthur and Reginald.
Once worked on the Great Chalfield Estate, which is situated betwixt Broughton Gifford and the back road to the village of Holt.
Chalfield is in fact a village as it has it’s own church (St Mary’s) and at one time the church had it’s own vicar.

The year would be about 1940/2.
One day just as it was getting light, my grandfather was cycling up the long drive (1m) to work.  The drive that was then, was unkempt, it had lots of pot holes, care was needed when cycling. There are two features along the way, which are (1, The Black Pond and  2 A Hill)
 My grandfather was freewheeling down the hill, it needed care, so he slowed up taking care not to go too fast because of the pot holes.  
He was surprised to hear something coming behind him.   Usually there was never anybody about, not many people cycled up or down the drive at this time of the day.
The noise persisted, so my grand father looked round, he could not see what was making the noise, so continued to cycle on.  At the bottom of the hill he looked round once more as the noise still persisted.
By now my grand father had an inkling of an idea, as if someone on a bike was slowly catching him up.
He stopped on a flat part of the lane, his bike was nearest to the left hand side of the lane.
He was surprised to see the old vicar (who he had heard about) and his dog came into view, cycling as if they were in a hurry, his dog running along side of it’s master
As the vicar got near to passing my grandfather, my grandfather put his arm out towards the middle of the lane.  The vicar went straight through it and the dog nearly ran over his feet, as they went by my grandfather.
There had been talk of this vicar and his dog.  The vicar had committed suicide taking his dog with him many years previously.
He was going to St Mary’s, he had a habit of  being late.  His last lodgings were in the village of Broughton Gifford, from which is the direction he appeared to have been coming from.

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Broughton Gifford is betwixt nowhere, it is in the same triangle of road and lanes as Chalfield.  The village is one you go to, rather than go through.  Except going to Stonar girls school to the east of the village, and is the way to Atworth.
On this road is the turning  left to Chalfield which is at the top of a hill locally known as “Rosy Whites” hill?
My uncle Art was by the 1980s working at the Dowtys factory in Atworth.  He cycled to and fro nearly every night, he worked constant nights.
One evening just at dusk and for some reason he left home early.  After only a few hundred yards Art decided he would stop at the top of the hill and roll a fag, he was then a heavy smoker.  Just to his left was a gate, he put his bike against it.  Though it was half dark he could still see over the gate.  Towards the black pond up Chalfield lane and to the right of a small farm some lights flickered.
The lights seemed to be coming his way or to the turning to Chalfield which was 50 yards further on.
Art gathered his bike and made his way to the turning and waited to see what the lights were.
In a moment he watched a coach pulled by four horses cross the road and disappeared into the field to his right.  Plain as can be he said as he retold the tail, he could hear the harness chains rattling;  he said he could hear the horses panting and the horse feet as they galloped by him.

One evening my wife recalled Arts tail, and told two friends Dawn and Phil, about Arts sighting.  Dawn replied that it was very strange, as it answered a question.  About a mile away on the back lane to Halt from where Art first saw the apparition,there is a sharp bend.  On the bend there is a lay-by leading up to a gate, a fine place to park a car in a relative safety and think about matters of love, which the two often did.
They remembered the noise that Vivien had described to them, often wondering the strange noise they had heard which matched up perfectly to the coach and four.  They now know what they had heard while parked in that lay-by .

Another strange coincident regarding the vicar story.  As I said the vicar lodged in a house in the village of Broughton, where once Dawn had worked, he could be heard creeping about at night in the long corridor leading to his room.