Sorrel-Weed House

The most-told ghost story in Savannah centers on Matilda Sorrel's suicide and an enslaved woman named Molly, but historical records don't support the Molly narrative, and the carriage house wasn't built until after the Civil War. Featured on Ghost Hunters and Ghost Adventures (where Aaron Goodwin was scratched by an unseen force), this 16,000-square-foot 1840 Greek Revival mansion on Madison Square draws more paranormal investigators than any other private home in the city.

The most famous ghost story at the Sorrel-Weed House might not be true. That's actually what makes the place interesting.

The standard version goes like this: Francis Sorrel, a wealthy Savannah shipping merchant, had an affair with an enslaved woman named Molly. His wife Matilda discovered them together. In her anguish, she threw herself from the second-floor balcony, landing headfirst on the courtyard below. A few weeks later, Molly was found dead in the carriage house.

It's a devastating story. It was the subject of Ghost Hunters' first Halloween special in 2005, Ghost Adventures (Season 9, Episode 10, 2014), and Travel Channel's "The Most Terrifying Places in America." Disney's Babble listed it as the fifth-most haunted place in the United States in 2013. Tour guides tell it nightly.

But there are no historical records connecting the Sorrel family to an enslaved woman named Molly. None. A slave manifest shows Francis Sorrel transporting a 28-year-old Black woman named Molly aboard the Augusta, but no documents place her at the house or connect her to the affair narrative. Archaeological excavations of a depression in the carriage house floor found a trash pit, not buried remains. The carriage house wasn't even finished until after the Civil War ended, meaning it couldn't have housed enslaved people at all. The dramatic narrative that has sold millions of tour tickets may be largely fictional. As Wikipedia notes, the story "reflects the horrors of sexual abuse that enslaved women faced," whether or not this specific version happened here.

The house is extraordinary regardless. Built between 1835 and 1840 by architect Charles B. Cluskey for Francis Sorrel, it's a 16,000-square-foot blend of Greek Revival and Regency architecture on the edge of Madison Square at 6 West Harris Street. One of the first two state landmarks designated in Georgia, in 1954. Sorrel owned between three and eleven enslaved people per year, transported several for sale, and served as guardian to free women of color. A complex figure even by antebellum Savannah standards.

Matilda did die. The circumstances are documented differently across sources. Some say she fell from the Sorrel-Weed House itself, others place her death at the adjacent building at 12 West Harris Street. The details vary enough that the truth is unclear. Francis lived until 1870. The house later served as a Civil War hospital, which adds its own layer: figures in military uniforms, groans from empty rooms, the faint smell of cigar smoke.

During the 2014 Ghost Adventures investigation, Aaron Goodwin felt something stab him under the ribs. A scratch mark appeared on his skin afterward. The crew's thermal imaging camera shut off repeatedly when pointed at a foggy spot on the staircase. Zak Bagans and Aaron both smelled sulfur near the stairs. The team also captured EVP recordings with a woman's voice saying "Hello."

The Sorrel-Weed House has been open to the public since 2005 and runs ghost tours nightly. It's one of the most investigated private homes in the country. The house sits on top of an old burying ground where Revolutionary War soldiers were interred, a detail the tour guides mention but that tends to get overshadowed by the Matilda and Molly story.

The tension between what the tour says happened and what the records actually show is part of the draw. Something happened in this house. The details have been mythologized, exaggerated, possibly invented. But the building feels heavy. The carriage house still makes people uncomfortable. Matilda did die here, one way or another. History and legend don't line up in Savannah, and at the Sorrel-Weed House, the gap between them is wider than anywhere else in the city.