The Norfolk mansions that vanish into thin air
- Stacia Briggs
- Oct 7
- 3 min read
Phantom houses are a rare but persistent phenomenon in East Anglia, with eerie tales of grand mansions appearing and vanishing without a trace.Â
Two of the most compelling accounts come from opposite ends of Norfolk: one in the isolated woodland of Tottington, and another along the Acle Straight, near Great Yarmouth.
Tottington is one of Norfolk’s lost villages, abandoned during the Second World War when the Ministry of Defence took over the land to create the Stanford Battle Area. Residents were forced to leave their homes, many believing they would return after the war. They never did.
Today, Tottington remains off-limits to the public, its crumbling church and scattered ruins the only reminders of a community that once thrived there. But in 2018, something unexpected appeared among the trees. A dog walker, familiar with the forested area, suddenly saw a mansion materialise before their eyes. At first, it was hazy, like a mirage, but the longer they looked, the more defined it became: an impressive building, solid and real. And then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, it was gone.
The incident recalls the long-standing legend of the Rougham Mirage in neighbouring Suffolk, where, since 1860, people have reported seeing a grand Georgian home appear and disappear in the same way.Â
Are these echoes from the past, brief glimpses into another time, or something stranger still?
Almost 40 years earlier, in 1979, another phantom house was seen, this time by Tina Clayton and her mother as they drove towards Great Yarmouth. The Acle Straight, a notoriously haunted road, is known for ghostly apparitions and strange occurrences, but nothing quite like what the pair saw that night.
As they neared the Vauxhall Holiday Park, a grand house appeared on their left. Framed by three tall poplar trees, it was lit from within, the glow of chandeliers casting golden light across the windows. Inside, people in elegant attire were dancing, a party in full swing.
Tina, just 12 at the time, took in the details: the house was grand, built in a Regency or Georgian style, similar in stature to The Assembly House in Norwich.Â
She and her mother commented on it at the time, wondering why they’d never noticed it before. But when they drove past in daylight, the house was gone. Not just the house, there was no trace of the trees, no ruin, no foundations, nothing. Just empty fields. Tina spent years watching that stretch of road, looking for some clue to what she had seen. But the house never appeared again.
These tales are not unique to Norfolk.Â
Across the country - and the world - there are reports of people stepping into moments from the past, only for reality to snap back into place moments later. In 1957, three schoolboys in Kersey, Suffolk, reported walking into a silent, eerily still version of the village. The modern houses had vanished, replaced by medieval timber-framed buildings, the only sound was a stream; even the ducks that swam in it made no noise. When they peered into a butcher’s shop window, the boys saw rotting carcasses hanging inside, covered in cobwebs. Overcome with fear, they fled.
In Great Yarmouth in 1973, a man named Mr Squirrel walked into a shop to buy envelopes for his coin collection. The shop was strangely quiet, the assistant dressed in Victorian-style clothing. A week later, he returned, only to find a modern store in its place, the assistant replaced by an elderly woman who had worked there for decades.
Are these incidents ghostly hauntings? Time slips? Or something else entirely?
For those who have seen a phantom house appear before their eyes, one thing is certain: these grand mansions seem to exist somewhere, at some time: just not in our version of reality.