The Ghosts of the John Carlyle House

The Carlyle House's greatest historical moment came in April 1755, when British General Edward Braddock arrived in Virginia to lead a campaign against French forces in the Ohio Valley. Braddock chose Carlyle House as his headquarters and convened a congress of five colonial governors within its walls.

For nearly two weeks, the most powerful men in British America gathered in Carlyle's dining room to plan what would become known as the French and Indian War. They debated strategy, allocated resources, and made decisions that would reshape the continent. Young George Washington served as an aide to Braddock and was present for many of these discussions.

The Congress of 1755 was a pivotal moment in American history, but it ended in disaster for Braddock. Just months later, his forces were decimated at the Battle of the Monongahela, and Braddock himself was killed. Some believe his spirit, along with the spirits of the officers who planned that doomed campaign, still gather at Carlyle House to replay those fateful meetings.

Despite John Carlyle's wealth and success, his personal life was marked by profound tragedy. Sarah Carlyle gave birth to eight children, but seven of them died before reaching adulthood. Some succumbed to the childhood diseases that were common in the colonial era - smallpox, scarlet fever, whooping cough. Others died of causes unknown, recorded simply as 'fever' or 'decline.'

Sarah herself died in 1761, likely worn down by grief and the physical toll of so many pregnancies. She was just 31 years old. John Carlyle remarried, but he never forgot Sarah. When he died in 1780, he was buried beside her.

The deaths of so many children in one house - the small coffins carried out, the funeral services, the rooms emptied of laughter - left an imprint that visitors and staff say can still be felt today. The Carlyle House was a place of mourning for much of its early history, and that sorrow has never entirely lifted.

Museum staff have reported seeing Sarah most often in and around the children's bedchamber on the second floor. She appears to be checking on her children, moving from bed to bed as a mother would, before fading from view. Some witnesses say she looks directly at them before vanishing, her eyes filled with an infinite sadness.

Ghost City Tours spoke with a docent who has worked at Carlyle House for over a decade. 'I've seen her twice,' she told us. 'The first time, I was closing up for the evening. I was checking the upstairs rooms and I saw a woman in old-fashioned dress standing by the window in what we call the nursery. I assumed a visitor had gotten separated from a tour group. But when I approached her, she turned and walked right through the wall. I stood there frozen for I don't know how long.'

The second encounter was even more disturbing. 'I was giving a tour, standing in the master bedchamber, talking about John and Sarah's marriage. I felt someone touch my hand - just a light touch, like a brush of fingers. I looked down and saw nothing, but I heard, clear as day, a woman's voice whisper 'my babies.' I had to excuse myself from the tour.'

While Sarah's appearances are melancholy, the spirits of the Carlyle children seem more playful - or perhaps they simply don't understand that they're dead. Staff and visitors alike have reported hearing children's laughter in the house, particularly in the upstairs rooms and the garden area behind the mansion.

A maintenance worker told Ghost City Tours about an experience he had while doing repairs in the basement. 'I heard kids running around upstairs - little footsteps, giggling, that kind of thing. I went up to tell them the house wasn't open yet, but there was nobody there. The doors were locked. I was completely alone in the building.'

Toys that are placed as part of the museum's displays have been found moved overnight. Small objects disappear and reappear in different locations. One staff member described arriving in the morning to find tiny handprints on a dusty surface - prints too small to belong to any adult and in a room that had been locked for days.

Even visitors who don't see or hear anything often report feeling sudden, inexplicable cold spots throughout the house. These temperature drops are so dramatic that some visitors have asked if the museum has air conditioning - it doesn't.

The cold spots seem to move, and experienced staff have learned to interpret them. 'When you feel that cold,' one guide told us, 'it means someone is there. I always acknowledge them - I say hello, tell them we're just here to share their story. I think they appreciate being remembered.'

Paranormal investigators who have studied Carlyle House report that the cold spots correspond to specific locations associated with the family's tragedies - the rooms where children died, the parlor where funerals were held, the garden where the family would have gathered in happier times.

Staff members have reported hearing what sounds like a meeting in progress in the formal dining room - men's voices in heated discussion, occasionally raised in argument. When investigated, the room is always empty, but the air seems charged with tension.

One evening, a security guard heard what he described as 'a whole group of men talking over each other, like they were arguing about something important.' He opened the dining room door to investigate and found the room empty - but he swears he caught the faint smell of tobacco smoke and saw a haze hanging in the air for just a moment before it dissipated.

Paranormal researchers believe this may be a residual haunting - an echo of the congress of 1755 that somehow imprinted itself on the house. The decisions made in that room led to thousands of deaths and changed the course of history. Perhaps that kind of significance leaves a mark that even time cannot erase.

General Braddock himself may be among the spirits at Carlyle House. A tall figure in military dress has been seen in the garden and on the grounds, walking with a purposeful stride as though reviewing troops. He never enters the house - perhaps because his spirit is tied to the outdoor spaces where he would have drilled his men.

Braddock died just months after leaving Carlyle House, shot through the lungs at the Battle of the Monongahela. His body was buried in the road so that wagons would pass over his grave and hide it from enemies who might desecrate it. Perhaps his spirit returns to the last place where his grand plans still seemed possible, before everything fell apart.

Like all wealthy colonial households, the Carlyles relied on enslaved labor to maintain their lifestyle. The names of some of these individuals have been lost to history, but their presence remains.

Staff have reported seeing figures in the service areas of the house - the kitchen, the workrooms, the passages used by servants. These apparitions seem to go about their duties, unaware or unconcerned that nearly three centuries have passed. They appear briefly and then vanish, leaving behind a sense of lives lived in the shadows of history.

Ghost City Tours spoke with a historian who specializes in Alexandria's African American history. 'We don't know most of their names,' she said, 'but they were the majority of people in this house. They cooked the food, tended the children, maintained the property. If anyone's spirit is tied to this place, it would be theirs. They spent every day of their lives here.'