There are moments when a name sends ripples of anticipation across your body, sparking a thrilling sense of mystery and adventure. For me, Wymering Manor was one such name. It all began when Belinda announced a site visit to this enigmatic place and encouraged us to delve into the manor's history beforehand. Little did I know that this journey would unfold as a captivating exploration of a gateway to Portsmouth's past, shrouded in centuries of stories, and eerie secrets hidden in its very walls.
Expectations were high, as the photos I had seen did not truly capture the grandeur of the manor. Wymering Manor, nestled in Cosham, is more than just a historic house. It's a time capsule, a tangible link to the earliest days of Portsmouth, with mentions in the Doomsday Book itself. Its age alone had me spellbound.
As we stepped across the threshold, I felt a shiver down my spine. Wymering Manor whispered secrets from its aged timbers and weathered bricks. The stories that had accumulated here were simultaneously frightening and deeply intriguing. They tugged at my curiosity like a ghostly presence.
My attention shifted from bricks and wood to something rather unexpected—hair. Strands, delicate and thin, entwined in the lime plastering of the walls. I couldn't discern whether it belonged to a horse or a human, but my hunch leaned towards the latter. Having owned a horse in my youth, I felt their hair was coarser than what I observed.
The creaking of the floorboards beneath my feet added an eerie soundtrack to our exploration. With each step, it was as though the manor itself was communicating, sharing its history, one haunting creak at a time.
My fingers instinctively reached for the centuries-old metal bars on the windows. What stories had they witnessed? Whose hands had grasped them? The sense of connection with the past was palpable, almost as if I could touch history itself.
Throughout the manor, dolls were strategically placed, their eyes seemingly following my every move. It was an unnerving sensation, as if they held secrets of their own. What stories did these dolls harbour? They added an aura of intrigue to the already mysterious atmosphere.
Our visit took a creative turn as we split into two groups. Through drawing exercises, we paired up, held hands, and navigated blindfolded, immersing ourselves in the emotional essence of the manor. We even attempted to sketch its exterior while blindfolded, an exercise that brought us closer to the manor in ways we couldn't have anticipated.
Wymering Manor is more than just a historical site; it's a living, breathing repository of stories and mysteries. This visit revealed a world of history, secrets, and unexpected discoveries. The manor left an indelible impression, and I left with a renewed appreciation for the beauty of our past, and the importance of experiencing history in such a tangible and immersive way. Wymering Manor, with its creaking floors, haunted dolls, and countless untold stories, has etched its memory in my heart as a place where the past truly comes alive.