In early July 1836, a group of boys searching for rabbit warrens near Arthur’s Seat above Edinburgh, Scotland, made a discovery that would soon become one of the most peculiar burials ever recorded. While scouring the rocky terrain, they uncovered three thin, triangular pieces of shale. Removing these stones revealed a small hollow in the rock containing a cache of seventeen tiny coffins laid out neatly before them.
The coffins were about four inches long, each one hand-carved from a single piece of wood—except for their lids, which were secured with small pieces of wire “nails.” They were arranged in three rows: two rows of eight coffins and one row containing a single coffin. The coffins in the front appeared more aged than those behind them, suggesting that they had been interred at different times. Inside each coffin rested a carved wooden doll dressed in handmade funerary clothing.
The boys, seemingly undisturbed by their morbid find, turned the discovery into a game by using the coffins to pelt one another in a twisted version of dodgeball. The discovery might have gone entirely undocumented were it not for one boy mentioning it to his schoolmaster, George Ferguson, who was also a member of the local archaeological society. Ferguson recovered the coffins and studied the site as thoroughly as he could.
Mr. Ferguson was the first to pry open one of the coffins and reveal the dolls within. After presenting them to other society members, the find became an instant sensation, attracting the attention of the press. The origin of the dolls sparked wild speculation and generated a plethora of theories.
Some believed the dolls were totems of witchcraft, crafted to resemble the objects of a witch’s malignant spells. In 1836, memories of witch trials and hangings were still fresh. Others insisted that the boys had stumbled upon a Fae burial site, warning that in disturbing it, they had incurred the wrath of the fairies—even if such a cache of coffins does not exactly fit traditional Fae lore.
One plausible theory suggested that the dolls were created in memoriam of a tragic event, such as a shipwreck, when no graves existed for the dead—a memorial for a lost crew. Another localized theory involves a worker’s revolt in the 1820s in Edinburgh; many rioters and protestors were arrested and consigned to forced labor on a road near Arthur’s Seat. It is speculated that the dolls were interred in honor of fallen labor leaders.
By far the most pervasive—and grizzly—theory was that the dolls were crafted by infamous murderers Burke and Hare, who notoriously murdered seventeen people and sold the bodies to medical schools for dissection. According to this idea, either Burke, Hare, or someone close to them was so consumed by guilt for denying their victims eternal rest that they created the doll graves as an atonement. However, since Burke and Hare were caught in 1836—just before the discovery—it seems unlikely they would have had the time or opportunity.
Eventually, as with many unsolved mysteries, the story faded into myth, and the dolls’ location was lost to time. Contemporary reports claim that some coffins were destroyed by the boys during their initial games, while others were sold into private collections. It is unknown how many survived, though in 1901 a collection of eight dolls was donated to the National Museum of Scotland.
Modern study of the relics has done little to solve the mysterious origin of the dolls, though it has provided some interesting clues. Examination of the thread used to sew the cotton funerary clothing dates the garments between 1800 and 1830, while the dolls themselves might be much older. The dolls are remarkably uniform, varying only about 5 mm in height from each other. Several of the dolls had their arms removed, ostensibly to fit within the tiny coffins, suggesting that they were modified rather than created specifically for this purpose. Additionally, all the dolls are male, which lends weight to the theory that they were produced as a set—possibly representing toy soldiers—casting further doubt on theories such as Burke and Hare, whose victims included many women.
Analysis of the wire used to nail the coffin lids shut suggests it may have been sourced from a shoemaker’s shop, as the metal was commonly used in shoe buckles. The carving style of the coffins, particularly the way they were hollowed out, indicates that the artist used a sharp blade not ideally suited for fine woodworking—again hinting at a craftsman of modest training, perhaps even a shoemaker.
Clearly, there was deliberate intent behind this display. Were these coffins dark talismans of witchcraft or a careful memorial to lost souls? Perhaps they mark the grim tally of a demented serial killer? We may never know.
Jason Roberts is a Seattle-based author noted for his acclaimed western horror series The Dead Wind Trilogy as well as other works of cosmic horror infused with historical fiction. His web-based series, Dark Distractions examines paranormal mysteries, unexplained phenomena, and all things strange.
