We Spent the Night Inside Wales’ Most Haunted Mansion — The Shocking Paranormal Footage We Captured Still Has No Explanation
Clamavon Manor: The Ones Who Never Left
Hidden on the quiet edge of Cwmbran, South Wales, stands Clamavon Manor—one of the oldest surviving farmsteads in the region.
Its history stretches back more than 500 years, with records tracing the first structure on this land to the early 1500s. What began as a modest medieval hall house slowly evolved into a timber-framed manor, expanded generation by generation by farming families who lived and worked here long before the surrounding town even existed.
By the 1700s, the estate was thriving.
.
.
.
It functioned as a working farm, a cider mill, and a stopping point for travelers moving between villages. Children were born under this roof. Families lived entire lives here. And some… died within these walls.
Over time, the manor fell into decline—abandoned, battered by the elements, and largely forgotten. It wasn’t until restoration work in the late 20th century that its darker history began to surface. Behind sealed walls and hidden beams, workers discovered evidence of forgotten rooms, collapsed staircases, and spaces that appeared deliberately concealed.
A place frozen between eras.
Today, Clamavon Manor stands as a rare survivor of Welsh rural history—still holding tightly to the memories of those who once lived here.
But with a place this old, history isn’t the only thing that lingers.
For decades, Clamavon Manor has carried a reputation for being deeply haunted.
Staff have reported footsteps echoing through empty hallways long after closing. Heavy boots pacing across wooden floors. Doors slamming on their own. Objects moving overnight. Visitors frequently describe the same unsettling sensation—as if someone is standing directly behind them.
Others claim to have seen a woman in period clothing drifting silently through the old kitchen.
Whether these are echoes of families who never truly left, or something far older tied to the land itself, Clamavon Manor is considered one of South Wales’ most quietly active paranormal locations.
Tonight, we’re going inside to find out why.
First Contact
We begin our investigation on the ground floor, walking slowly through the original rooms with EMF equipment and a spirit talker.
Almost immediately, the atmosphere feels heavy.
As we introduce ourselves and explain our intentions—no disrespect, only communication—the EMF meter begins to react. Subtle at first, then stronger.
A word comes through the device.
“Greta.”
Moments earlier, we had been discussing reports of a woman seen in the building.
The timing is impossible to ignore.
As we move deeper into the manor, unexplained noises begin to follow us—soft knocks, distant taps, sounds coming from areas we haven’t entered yet.
Then another word appears.
“Hung.”
We stop.
Historical accounts mention executions on or near the grounds. When we ask if someone was hanged here, the activity increases. EMF levels spike again.
Whatever is communicating seems eager.
The Servants’ Kitchen
As we enter what was once the servants’ kitchen, the temperature drops sharply.
The cold is immediate and unnatural.
We ask if anyone who worked or lived here is present. The EMF responds. We ask if they can show us around.
A clear confirmation.
As we mention children, the device reacts again.
“The children are heard.”
When asked directly if any children are here with us, the EMF lights move toward Sean’s device, exactly as requested.
Intelligent response.
The Upper Floors
Upstairs, the manor feels even more oppressive.
In the main hall, furniture appears subtly out of place—chairs that weren’t positioned that way earlier during filming.
When we ask for confirmation, a deep growl echoes from the rafters above us.
Not a voice.
Not a knock.
Something else.
In one of the bedrooms, we place an EMF detector on the bed. When asked to approach it, the device lights up instantly—on command.
We move it to another bed.
Same response.
Then, suddenly, nothing.
The activity stops entirely, as if whatever is with us has chosen not to follow further.
Almost like it needs permission to enter certain rooms.
The Attic
The attic is where the atmosphere changes completely.
This is the room where children are most often seen—figures in doorways, shapes in windows. Historically, this space was used to hide people during times of conflict, including children and prisoners of war.
As soon as we enter, a name comes through.
“William.”
When we ask if William hid here, the device responds immediately.
The EMF surges again and again as we explain how it works, encouraging the presence to approach it.
“Mine.”
The word repeats, possessive and unsettling.
When asked if this spirit is a child, the responses become erratic—sometimes playful, sometimes distressed.
Then a sentence comes through that stops us cold.
“I hated my life.”
When we ask if they want us to leave, the device answers clearly.
Yes.
The Dolls Room
In another bedroom filled with old toys, the mood is overwhelmingly sad.
A strange smell lingers in the air.
Words come through the device:
“Stuck here.”
When asked why, there is no clear answer—only silence, followed by:
“Renewal.”
It feels like something unfinished.
The Woman
Later, during a spirit box session, a woman’s voice begins coming through repeatedly.
She speaks of sadness.
Of being ordered.
Of hanging.
Words like “dead on the string” and “on her” repeat over and over.
When we ask if she took her own life, the room grows colder.
The EMF lights flare violently.
Then, without warning, the main lights in the room flicker—not once, but multiple times—on the building’s mains electricity.
Something is drawing power.
The Main Hall
In the final session, we set multiple devices in the main hall.
Almost all of them activate—intermittently, intelligently.
Words come through:
“Respiratory failure.”
“Footsteps.”
“Haunting.”
“Beyond limits.”
Footsteps are heard in the hallway—clear, deliberate.
When we ask whoever is there to come into the room, the activity clusters at the doorway… but never fully enters.
It feels less intelligent here.
More like residual energy replaying itself.
As if the house is remembering.
Conclusion
We came to Clamavon Manor to find out if it was truly haunted.
We believe it is.
But not by just one spirit.
This place holds multiple layers of haunting—intelligent entities, residual energy, and something deeply emotional tied to trauma, secrecy, and death.
Children who hid here.
A woman who suffered.
And memories that refuse to fade.
Some places don’t just remember the past.
They replay it.
And Clamavon Manor is one of them.
