The Boy in the Iron Coffin
This past weekend, some friends and I went to a presentation in Centreville on the Upper Shore (Caroline County) detailing the discovery of an unmarked 19th-century iron coffin and the twists and turns in the years-long effort to find out the identity of the teenage boy inside. The presenters were Deb Hull-Walski (collections manager for the Museum of Natural History’s Anthropology Department) and Dave Hunt (Physical/Forensic Anthropologist and Collections Manager, Division of Physical Anthropology).
It was very interesting – sort of the anthropological equivalent of CSI. Through slides, photographs, and anecdotes, the two presenters told of the frustrations and triumphs they and their staffs (mostly volunteers and interns) encountered on their quest to give the boy inside the coffin a name and a family. (The coffin was found in Washington, D.C. a few years ago during construction. Staff from the Smithsonian was called since the find was historical in nature, not criminal.)
Just by the brand and the markings on the iron coffin, they were able to determine that the death had occurred in the 1850s. When the museum staff opened the mummy-style coffin, they found a well-preserved corpse dressed in the clothes of the era inside. Through bone analysis and with the use of MRIs and x-rays, they determined that they were looking at the remains of a teenage boy who had had a congenital heart defect (a hole in the heart) and who had likely died of pneumonia. Amazing that they were able to determine that over 150 years later!
The staff then began combing historical records and obituaries of teenage boys who had died during that period of time in an attempt to give the corpse a name. They were able to narrow it down to three young men who had died during that time period. They then tried to identify their boy through the process of elimination, tracing each candidate’s maternal lineage to modern times and conducting DNA-testing on willing candidates they found through their genealogical investigation. (Each boy’s lineage was lucky enough to have an unbroken female line for mitochondrial DNA analysis – only the female passes the mDNA.)
After two years of poring over historical documents and old newspapers and a few false turns along the way, the staff finally determined that the remains belonged to William T. White, an orphan who had died back in 1952 at the age of 15. Ultimately they were able to find a woman in Pennsylvania way down in the family line whose DNA matched up and confirmed White’s identity.
Young William T. White hailed from Accomack County on the Eastern Shore of Virginia. A wealthy benefactor had left the child enough money to attend Columbian College’s prep school in Washington, D.C. – hence his burial location across the Bay Bridge. (The investigators surmised that he was not buried in his Virginia hometown because winter of 1852 in D.C. had been particularly brutal.)
The discovery of the coffin has had implications for furthering scientific knowledge. Anthropologists now have some well-preserved textile artifacts in White’s burial clothing. The scientists involved have been able to hone MRI techniques after their experience with this corpse. Also, the Center for Missing and Exploited Children used this case to compare their facial reconstruction methods. But the heartening thing about this story was the passion that this team developed for William White. They took it personally that this young man had died and no one knew who he was. It became a personal mission for them to reunite this boy with his family all these years later.
Some family members of William T. White were in the audience this past weekend. They were all to meet after the presentation to begin discussions about William’s final resting place. The boy in the iron coffin had a name, and a family, and they were going to bring him home.