The Rougham Mirage | Ep. 118
This week, we head to Rougham in Bury Saint Edmunds, UK and discuss the Rougham Mirage. This Georgian-brick house is beautiful and catches you off guard… and then completely disappears.
Right before your eyes.
We discuss multiple historical and contemporary encounters with the Rougham Mirage. But how believable is this vanishing house? Listen now!
The Rougham Mirage: What is it and What Causes it?
Have you ever witnessed something you couldn’t explain?
What about an entire house appearing – and then disappearing – before your very eyes?
Could this be proof of a time slip, or maybe another dimension bleeding into ours?
What’s up, Bizarros? This week we dive into the tale of the vanishing Suffolk house known as the Rougham Mirage.
The ghost house sightings happen between Rougham and Bradfield St. George.
What exactly does this house look like?
We’ll get to it in the historical ghost house sightings, but it is supposedly a red brick manor with iron gates and a large, overflowing garden.
It looks a little odd by itself in the open countryside.
Beautiful. But, strange that it seems to come out of nowhere and then gone the next minute.
Travelers then recall a rush of air and feel an icy chill about them, and the ghostly house is gone, with just an empty field where it once stood.
With that said, let’s get into the historical encounters in chronological order.
The Rougham Mirage – 1860
The first encounter with this strange and mysterious house took place in June of 1860. A man local to the area named Robert Palfry was walking down the country road when out of nowhere, he felt an unusual chill for a summer day.
More chilling than just a cold breeze, almost freezing and all around him. It felt like the temperature dropped.
Looking around to see if the trees were blowing or why he might be feeling so cold, he was shocked to discover a house that he had never seen before, neither before this day nor essentially before this moment.
He discovered a large redbrick, Georgian-style house with gardens in full bloom and iron gates.
He was amazed and in disbelief to discover this house. However, almost as quickly as he noticed its presence, he was shocked to watch it dematerialize right before his eyes.
Before he knew it, he was back to standing in an empty field with no house nearby. The summer’s warmth also returned.
Naturally, he felt a little bonkers but also wanted to tell some people about what happened, so he rushed home and told his family immediately about the mystery house.
But, when Robert and his family returned to check out the area, there was nothing there.
Spoiler alert – but Robert’s grandson, James Cobbold, will also join the ghost house sightings club.
1912 – Sighting Of The Vanishing House
Here is a quote from James Cobbold about his experience:
Next door to my grandmother lived the old butcher, Mr. George Waylett. I often used to go out with him on his Saturday delivery round through Rougham and the Bradfields.
My job was to look after the pony.
We had just left one of his calls in Kingshall Street and were jogging along nicely towards Bradfield St George when “Whoosh!”
There was a loud whooshing sound as of air displacement, it became very cold (again, the month was June), and the pony reared and whinnied — it was more like a scream of sheer terror. Mr. Waylett was shot clean over the back of the cart; I very nearly went with him, but I did manage to hang on.
The pony bolted, but in those fleeting moments, I most distinctly saw a double-fronted red brick house, three-storeyed, of pronounced Georgian appearance.
But it was those flower beds, a central oblong one flanked on either side by a circular one and smaller oblong ones in front of those three, making six in all, and all of them were in full bloom.
All this I can most distinctly recall. Furthermore, it tallied to a T with what my great grandfather had seen, even to the edging bricks, the geraniums and pansies in the flower beds, plus rose trees.
Having managed to stop the pony, I turned it around, for I feared for Mr. Waylett.
Even as I did so, a kind of mist seemed to envelop the house, which I could still see, and the whole thing simply disappeared — it just went.
Fortunately, Mr. Waylett was not hurt but was very scared, and so was I, and also that pony, which stood there with bulging eyes and would not go near the spot. “That F’n house again,” said George, “that’s about the third time I’ve seen that happen.”
But poor George had been the target for so much ridicule he wouldn’t talk about it for the simple reason nobody in the village would believe him.”
1926 – The Vanishing Home Phenomenon Continues
In October of 1926, a young school teacher by the name of Ruth Wynne and her 10-year-old student Ruth Allison were out enjoying a nice stroll around the countryside.
During their leisurely stroll, they happened to pass the church at Bradfield St George.
Ruth liked to take these walks to familiarize herself with the area as she had just recently moved there.
However, despite being new to the area and the unknown surroundings, she could tell immediately that something felt out of place regarding this strange house she stumbled upon.
It hadn’t been there during her last walk, had it?
Here is a quote and a detailed description of the house from Ruth:
“We walked off through the fields to look at the church of the neighboring village, Bradfield St. George.
In order to reach the church, which we could see plainly ahead of us to the right, we had to pass through a farmyard, whence we came out onto a road.
Exactly opposite us on the further side of the road and flanking it, we saw a high wall of greenish-yellow bricks.
The road ran past us for a few yards, then curved away from us to the left. We walked along the road, following the brick wall round the bend, where we came upon tall, wrought-iron gates set in the wall.
I think the gates were shut, or one side may have been open. The brick wall continued on from the gates and disappeared round the curve of the road.
Behind the wall and towering above it was a cluster of trees.
From the gates, a drive led away among these trees to what was evidently a large house.
We could just see a corner of the roof above a stucco front, in which I remember noticing some windows of Georgian design.
The rest of the house was hidden by the branches of the trees.
We stood by the gates for a moment, speculating as to who lived in this large house, and I was rather surprised that I had not already heard of the owner amongst the many people who had called on my mother since our arrival in the district.
This house was one of the nearest large residences to our own, and it seemed odd that the occupants had not called.
However, we then turned off the road along a footpath leading away to the right to the church, which was perhaps under a hundred yards off.
On leaving the church, we cut down through the churchyard into the fields and home without returning to the road or to the farmyard. It was then drizzling rain.
On arriving home, we discussed the big house and its possible occupants with my parents and then thought no more of it.
My pupil and I did not take the same walk again until the following spring. It was, as far as I can remember, a dull afternoon with good visibility in February or March.
We walked up through the farmyard as before and out onto the road, where, suddenly, we both stopped dead of one accord and gasped. ‘Where’s the wall?’ we wondered simultaneously.
It was not there.
The road was flanked by nothing but a ditch, and beyond the ditch lay a wilderness of tumbled earth, weeds, and mounds, all overgrown with those trees which we had seen on our first visit.
We followed the road around the bend, but there were no gates, no drive, no corner of a house to be seen. We were both very puzzled.
At first, we thought that the house and wall had been pulled down since our last visit. But closer inspection showed a pond and other small pools amongst the mounds where the house had been visible.
It was obvious that had been there a long time.”
When Ruth asked the villagers about the unusual house, no one knew what she was talking about, and they insisted such a house never existed.
The 1940s Rougham Mirage
In the 1940s, a man named Edward Bently was working as a men’s outfitter along with Aubyn Davies, and they were on their way to deliver catalogs to the surrounding area.
As the two were driving past Colville’s Grove, a large grassy area between Rougham and Bradfield St. George, where they passed a large, elaborate red brick Georgian-style house set back from the road.
Neither of them remembered ever seeing this red brick house before, but judging by the appearance and extravagance of this home and garden, their eyes were probably replaced with money signs cartoon styles.
Surely the homeowners must wear only the finest men’s fashion.
So, they started heading towards the home, but to their surprise, the house was quickly engulfed in a mist that covered the house and then dissipated – but the house had disappeared too.
Confused, they started asking the locals, who all – again – claimed no house was there.
At this point, it must be like, where is the local coffee shop? What’s a good restaurant around here? Oh, is there a vanishing house nearby?
1976 Disappearing House Phenomena
In 1976, a Rougham local, Sandra Hardwick, decided to ride her bicycle out and about around dusk after meeting up with some friends.
As she rode along, she noticed that it had become unusually quiet, like the sound had escaped the world.
There were no more birds or cars.
I assume in this day and age, she’d be like, “it sounded like when your AirPods die – muffled, sad silence.”
Along with the silence, there was then a rush of frigid air, despite the fact that she was riding her bike on a warm summer evening.
At that moment, a large red brick mansion seemed to appear out of nowhere at the side of the road, which was brightly illuminated, “like the sun had come out on it on a bright Summer’s day.”
Here is a quote from Sandra –
“The windows were very small but open with the curtains blowing, and it was a happy, carefree, friendly house.
It had a thatched roof, and it was like a perfect country cottage that everyone wants to live in.
But there was nobody there. I thought I was going crazy.
It was beautiful — thatched roof, windows open, a garden with yellow and pink flowers, a fence, and a gate.
The curtains were blowing out of the open windows.”
Despite being taken aback by the beauty and charm of the house, something still felt so incredibly off.
And beyond that, she was filled with an unexpected feeling of dread.
So, she hopped back on her bicycle and rode away as quickly as she could.
At a later time (during the day), she returned to view the “perfect country cottage” again and was surprised to see that there was no trace of a house at all.
The 1980s Vanishing Home
A letter to the Free Press from a lady named Gillian Cooper is quoted as saying:
“Twenty-five years ago, my husband and I were passing through, very slowly due to masses of traffic, going towards the Mildenhall roundabout, when, to our surprise, on the left in the vicinity opposite the high column, we saw a massive Georgian mansion complete with pillars and open iron gates, driveway ending up with a circle effect, and high steps going up towards the house on either side — a fantastic sight, 200 yards from the road.
I remarked to my husband, ‘we’ve never seen that before on this road,’ and guess what, we’ve never seen it since, and we have driven that road many times over the years.
Well, we both saw it.
2007 Rougham Mirage
In February of 2007, Jean Batram and her husband Sydney, a retired couple living near Rougham in Great Barton, decided to go for a drive around some of the local towns and villages for some sightseeing.
As they drove around the picturesque countryside, they spotted a large, redbrick Georgian house out over a field.
They didn’t have a great view of it, but it stood out to them, so they made a note to catch it on the way back – for a better look.
However, on their way home – it had vanished.
Here is what Jean had to say about the experience:
“We were having a Sunday afternoon drive, coming into Rougham and going along Kingshall Street (I’d never been that way before) and up to the last bungalow.
Looking across the newly harrowed field, I saw a large house on its own very, very plainly.
I said to my husband, ‘look at that lovely house; I’ll take a look again on the way back.’
But coming back later, the house was gone, and I asked if we were on the same road, and he said ‘yes,’
I remarked ‘how odd’ as I knew very plainly that there was a large house standing on its own quite near across the field with trees behind it.
I know I saw this house. I could see it now and could sketch it if I needed to.
It was a lovely big Georgian house with a whole row of long windows and trees at the back of it.
I have talked to other people, and they have heard of it, and people in Rougham have heard of the tale. I would just love to get to the bottom of it.”
Then, during a phone call to a friend of hers, Jean admitted that she had seen something very strange and didn’t know what to do or how to feel about it.
To her surprise, her friend replied, “Oh, you haven’t seen the ghost house, have you?”
Jean had had no idea that others had also witnessed the same phenomenon or that it was a thing in the area.
Her friend went on to say that her daughter’s boyfriend had also seen it while out driving his van.
In every account, the house appears roughly the same, but strangely it is not always spotted in the exact same location as if the house moves around the countryside.
What do you think, Bizarros?
Is the house a peek into the future? Could it be a parallel dimension bleeding into our own? Let us know what you think in the comments.