The Rendering of General Wayne
He distinguished himself in the American Revolution, but the real legend began A Decade after his death
Though my graduate work was in history, and though I’ve been practicing the discipline for decades, like most historians there’s a very small niche that I specialize in: the supernatural folklore of the United States. So don’t quiz me on, for example, the intricacies of the English feudel system, the details of Rommel’s maneuvers in World War II or the chronology leading to the fall of the Berlin Wall.
And so, when I was asked last month to do a freelance project for a tour app company on New Jersey in the American Revolution, I started racking my brain to remember the colonial history classes I’d taken in grad school. I’ve done short courses for kids on the ghosts of the Revolutionary War, including the specter of George Washington at Mont Vernon, the ghosts of the terrible winter at Valley Forge, phantoms of the Americans who perished on the British prison ships in New York. But I had to really start from scratch to school myself on the role of the Delaware River in the conflict, the struggle of New Jersey Quakers to reconcile their pacifism with the Revolutionary cause, and the battles led by some of the greatest names in military history. It was inevitable that I should encounter some new ghost stories too, but nothing could prepare me for what is hands-down, the most ghoulish, ghastly ghost story of the American revolt—indeed, in probably all of American military history.
The story of the rendering of General Wayne.
A Formidable Figure
General "Mad" Anthony Wayne served throughout the Revolutionary War, and among his men he distinguished himself as a fearless and eager leader who often led from the front lines. He slept on the ground alongside his underlings during the brutal winter at Valley Forge, and they would remember that he often walked the grounds at night, watching over them. As I worked on my project recently, I was astonished to discover that he and General Casimir Pulaski had taken on over a thousand British troops at Camden, New Jersey with a mere 100 troops—and lived to tell the tale. Still, even though Wayne was a devoted and daring officer, somehow he never quite gained the status of other war heroes. It was, rather, what happened to Wayne after his death that has inspired more legends than those of any other historical figure in the United States.
General Wayne arrived in what is now Erie, Pennsylvania on November 19, 1796. According to reports, he was suffering deeply from gout. Th general was taken to the home of Captain Russell Bissell, the military outpost's commander. A Dr. J.C. Wallace, who was stationed in Pittsburgh, over a hundred miles away, was requested by General Wayne, but he never arrived. Wayne died in the wee hours of December 15th, in the arms of his attending physician, Dr. Balfour. Two days later, Wayne’s body was buried at the base of the blockhouse flagpole as he had requested: in a simple wooden casket. He was still wearing his uniform. Brass tacks on the lid spelled out his name.
For twelve years Wayne’s body lay in peace at the site, with an occasional former solider making a visit to say a prayer and remember the general’s gumption. It was, some thought, too quiet an end for such a gregarious warrior.
Little did they know what was coming.
Good Intentions
In the fall of 1808, General Wayne's daughter Margaretta, then 38 years old, ill, took a turn for the worst and urged that her brother, Colonel Isaac Wayne, to go to Erie and retrieve the remains. When she died, she said, she wanted to be laid to rest next to her beloved father. The following spring, Colonel Wayne made his way over the rocky, root-covered roads to the gravesite, taking a light two-wheeled cart and a small trunk for carrying back his father’s dry bones. It was a 400 mile walk to his father’s grave along what is today Route 322. He had written to Dr. Wallace, the same physician he had called upon during his father's final illness, to meet him at the site to help with the exhumation and bagging of the general’s skeletal remains.
What followed is a chain of weird happenings that lives, as they say, in infamy.
After removing the earth from the grave, the younger Wayne and the good doctor brought up the cracked old casket. On the cover of it, the old brass tacks glimmered in the sunlight of the Pennsylvania morning. Wayne’s son excused himself. He wanted to remember his father as he was, bold and alive. The doctor bent over and began pulling out the coffin nails. It was an easy feat. The wood was thin and rotted after over a decade in the soil. When the last nail was out, the doctor slid off the casket lid.
His gasp brought the younger Wayne running. With the exception of a leg and foot, which were both mostly gone, the general’s body was in near-perfect condition.
This was a quandary. The Wayne’s son was not prepared to take a heavy body home on the flimsy cart he’d brought for transporting the remains. The roads were treacherous and the weight, moreover, would likely lead to it breaking en route—a messy and ignoble prospect.
Dr. Wallace had an idea. It was possibly of the worst ideas of all time. Unfortunately, the younger Wayne agreed to it.
The Best Laid Plans
They would boil the flesh off General Wayne’s body, so that this son might take just the bones back to Radnor as planned.
And so the gruesome task began. The largest kettle was too small to fit the imposing hero in all at once, so four men helped Wallace hack Wayne’s body into pieces. One observe later recalled that the flesh on his back was four inches thick and sold and firm like new pork. One of the general’s boots was still intact, and a helper took it, had a match run up by the local shoemaker, wearing them for years after.
After all the flesh had boiled off the bones, Wallace packed them into the younger Wayne’s trunk. The flesh was returned to the coffin and reburied. For some reason, the knives and other tools used to cut up the body and remove the stubborn bits were thrown in alongside. The younger Wayne set off for Radnor with the trunk of scrubbed bones.
But if you think this is over, hold on to your hat.
The road to Radnor, as mentioned, was fraught with difficulty. Rocks and stones littered every inch of the way, with tree roots and stumps providing constant obstacles. The rumbling caused the trunk to pop open, and some of the rattling bones—they say—rattled right over the side and into the road, unbeknownst to the struggling son, pulling the cart behind him.
When Isaac tried to reassemble the bones later into a semblance of his father’s shape for burial in a new casket, he discovered that some were missing. His horror was now complete. The younger Wayne would live the rest of his life racked with guilt over how he had desecrated not only his own father but one of the nation’s greatest military scions.
Isaac Wayne buried what remained of the hard-won bones of his father in St. David’s Church yard as his sister had requested. The funeral procession was a mile long. Philadelphia's cavalry forces assembled in the pre-dawn darkness in preparation for the lengthy ride to Radnor. In addition to the Montgomery County Troop of Light Dragoons, the First Regiment of Cavalry of the City and County of Philadelphia was present, as were the First and Second Troops of Light Horse. As the procession neared the burying ground, Isaac Wayne and other family members greeted the funeral party. The oration was delivered by the Reverend David Jones, a chaplain who fought alongside Wayne in the Revolution. After the funeral, the Pennsylvania State Society of the Cincinnati placed a stone over the site.
Now Mad Anthony Wayne had not only two graves, but several other unknown ones on the road between Erie and Radnor, where his poor bones had fallen on the long, strange trip home.
But there’s still more.
Ghost of the Longest Grave
On November 10, 1853. The location of the flesh grave in Erie was lost after an arson at the old blockhouse there and a regarding of the old parade field, where Wayne’s coffin was re-interred on that strange, strange day so long ago. For twenty five years Wayne’s devotees despaired of the general ever being located.
Then, in 1878, an Erie doctor set out to find Mad Anthony’s coffin. After much searching the old wooden box was unearthed, the brass tacks once again gtlittering in the Pennsylvania sunshine. Inside, the pieces of flesh were almost completely gone. In the years following, the lost blockhouse was reconstructed as a tribute to General Anthony Wayne by the state of Pennsylvania.
Today, Mad Anthony Wayne is one of the most active ghosts in American military history. His phantom has been reported walking the grounds of Valley Forge—just as he did on those brutal winter nights with General Washington--, a silent sentinel watching over the freezing troops at night. Others have seen him near Chadd’s Ford, site of the Battle of Brandywine. But most of all, they say that, each New Year’s Day—his birthday—General Wayne rides from St. David’s Churchyard to his death site in Erie along that ill-fated route his son took him on so long ago—well some of him, anyway. He’s glimpsed, always, astride his trusty steed, Nab, who’s described as having fiery eyes and blazing hooves. Some say the general will stop for awhile here and there, dismount and look around on the ground, as if he’s lost something precious.
Indeed.
Please join me in praying for the soul of General Anthony Wayne, and for the protection of his grave and his family home from all evil.
Eternal Rest Grant Unto Him,
And Let Perpetual Light Shine Upon Him.
May His soul And The Souls Of All The Faithful Departed
Through The Mercy Of God Rest In Peace.
Amen.
St. Michael The Archangel, Defend Us In Battle. Be Our Protection Against The Wickedness And Snares Of The Devil. May God Rebuke Him We Humbly Pray. And Do Thou, O Prince Of The Heavenly Host, By The Power Of God, Cast Into Hell Satan And All The Evil Spirits Who Prowl About The World, Seeking The Ruin Of Souls.
Amen.
Thanks for taking this supernatural journey to Pennsylvania with me. You can help have Masses said for the soul of General Anthony Wayne by becoming a Patreon supporter at any level (but check out the higher tiers, too!)
I’ll see you here next month for another visit. In the meantime, remember to #prayforghosts!