Edinburgh’s ghosts tend to gather in familiar places or at least, the stories do. The underground vaults, Greyfriars Kirkyard and the narrow closes of the Old Town receive plenty of attention. Yet beyond those well-known locations are other tales, sometimes attached to places we pass without giving their supernatural possibilities much thought.
For both of us at Lights On Still Scared, Craigmillar is close to home. That makes this particular story especially intriguing. A local castle, a mysterious cloaked figure and residents organising their own ghost hunts would be enough to attract our attention.
But there is one detail that makes this apparition particularly memorable.
Apparently, it wore spurs.
A castle with a complicated past
Before meeting its mysterious visitor, it is worth getting to know the castle itself.
The Preston family acquired the lands of Craigmillar in 1374. Over successive generations, their fortified home developed into a substantial complex of buildings, enclosed courtyards and defensive walls. The medieval tower house remains at its heart, surrounded by the additions of owners who wanted both protection and greater comfort.
Craigmillar offered a convenient retreat from Edinburgh: close to the capital, but removed from the bustle of its streets. That separation could not guarantee safety, however. In 1544, the castle was burned by the Earl of Hertford’s army during an English invasion. Repairs and rebuilding followed.
Looking at a ruined castle, it can be easy to imagine it as permanently cold, empty and forbidding. Craigmillar was also a home. Behind its walls were the practical demands of daily life: preparing meals, receiving visitors and maintaining a household. Remembering that makes its later abandonment rather more poignant.
Mary, Queen of Scots, and the shadow of conspiracy
Craigmillar’s best-known guest was Mary, Queen of Scots. She stayed in 1563 and returned in November 1566, when her marriage to Lord Darnley was in serious difficulty.
That later visit is associated with the so-called Craigmillar Bond and discussions among nobles about removing Darnley. Exactly what was agreed, and what Mary knew, should be treated cautiously. Darnley was subsequently murdered at Kirk o’ Field in Edinburgh in February 1567.
There is a bitter twist in Mary’s relationship with her host, Sir Simon Preston. A supporter whom she had appointed Provost of Edinburgh, he became her jailer following her capture in 1567. She spent a night in his High Street townhouse before being taken to Lochleven Castle. That imprisonment took place in Edinburgh, rather than at Craigmillar.
Even the room traditionally associated with her stay comes with a qualification. Historic Environment Scotland explains that, although a chamber in the tower is called Queen Mary’s Room, she probably occupied a larger apartment elsewhere in the castle, likely in the east range. It is a useful reminder that a familiar historical label does not always tell the whole story.
From family residence to romantic ruin
In 1660, Sir John Gilmour bought the estate and undertook further improvements. During the eighteenth century, the family moved to nearby Inch House, leaving Craigmillar uninhabited.
The castle then acquired a different purpose. Its ruins became a picturesque feature in the landscape, appreciated by visitors, artists and writers, with its connections to Mary adding to its appeal.
By the twentieth century, this former household had become a place onto which people could project all sorts of imaginings. Empty windows and doorways invite curiosity. They also make it difficult to follow the movements of someone glimpsed only briefly.
Which brings us to the figure in the cloak.
The Edinburgh ghost with spurs
In a 2019 article, Historic Environment Scotland revisited a report published in The Sunday Post on 5 May 1935. Its headline was wonderfully direct: “Edinburgh Ghost with Spurs.”
The account described a mysterious figure around Craigmillar Castle and nearby Niddrie Mains. One reported sighting took place on a side street leading from Peffermill Road towards the castle.
Its appearance was distinctive: a dark blue hooded cloak, tangled black hair and heavy riding boots fitted with spurs. The newspaper’s description also gave its eyes a menacing quality.
Sightings during the previous year had apparently prompted local ghost hunts. Further searches followed, but the figure supposedly escaped into the castle ruins. Another witness described a shadowy form disappearing through a doorway.
It is quite an image. We would like to think we would have joined the search with calm, investigative minds. Whether that confidence would have survived the prospect of following a cloaked stranger into the ruins is another matter.
What were people seeing?
The surviving account leaves plenty unanswered.
We are working from Historic Environment Scotland’s retelling of the newspaper coverage, rather than independently examined witness statements. We cannot establish how closely each person observed the figure, whether their descriptions were collected separately, or how much discussion had taken place before the newspaper report appeared.
Those details would help distinguish several possibilities.
Someone could have been deliberately frightening the neighbourhood. A person seen briefly in unusual clothing might have been misinterpreted. Once a description began circulating, later witnesses might have understood an ambiguous sight through the story they already knew.
Equally, the people involved may have experienced something they could not explain. Acknowledging that uncertainty does not require us to settle on a supernatural answer or dismiss their experiences.
The reported disappearances deserve the same care. Losing sight of a figure near a doorway is unsettling, but it does not establish that the figure vanished impossibly. To assess that, we would need a much clearer account of the witness’s position and what happened next.
A phantom without a name
What makes this story particularly appealing is that the figure has no firmly established identity in the account.
There is no need to assign it to a royal visitor, a murdered soldier or an unfortunate former resident. Craigmillar’s history provides atmosphere and context, but it cannot identify the supposed ghost.
The spurs suggest a rider. The cloak gives us a striking silhouette. Neither tells us when the figure belonged or whether it belonged to the past at all.
Sometimes a ghost story becomes more interesting when we resist completing it.
A local mystery worth remembering
For us, the ghost with spurs is a reminder to look beyond Edinburgh’s most familiar haunted locations. It also captures something about the life of a neighbourhood: people sharing an alarming story, debating what it meant and deciding to investigate for themselves.
The next step would be to examine the original newspaper coverage and search for earlier reports or a follow-up explanation. For now, we have an intriguing account with a memorable setting and an unresolved ending.
Craigmillar has been a fortified home, a royal retreat and a romantic ruin. Whether it also sheltered a cloaked phantom remains an open question.
If you grew up around Craigmillar or Niddrie, did you ever hear about the ghost with spurs? We would love to know whether another version of the story survives in local memories.
Historical background: Historic Environment Scotland’s Craigmillar Castle visitor information and heritage records. Ghost account: Samuel Wilson, “Three Ghost Stories for Halloween,” Historic Environment Scotland, 25 October 2019, recounting The Sunday Post report of 5 May 1935.
Written by Karen Swanston