To Cathy Hemming, for always going to battle for me.
TITLE PAGE
DEDICATION
INTRODUCTION
1. DEMON FIRE: Battle of Dan-no-Ura, Japan, AD 1185
2. TAKE NO PRISONERS: Battle of Culloden, Scotland, April 16, 1746
3. HEADLESS HORSEMAN: Paoli Massacre, Pennsylvania, September 21, 1777
4. GENERAL “MAD ANTHONY” WAYNE’S RESTLESS GHOST: Pennsylvania, December 3, 1796
5. BLOWN TO BITS: Siege of Fort Erie, Canada, August 15, 1814
6. VICTORY OR DEATH!: Battle of the Alamo, Texas, March 6, 1836
7. A HARVEST OF DEATH: Battle of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, July 1, 1863
8. CUSTER’S DOOMED STAND: Battle of Little Bighorn, Montana, June 26, 1876
9. GHOSTS OF THE WESTERN FRONT: Battle of Vimy Ridge, France, April 12, 1917
10. “GOT A LIGHT?”: Battle of Okinawa, Japan, May 1945
SOME FINAL THOUGHTS
FURTHER READING
PHOTO CREDITS
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
TEASER
COPYRIGHT
“War, at the best, is terrible, and this war of ours, in its magnitude and in its duration, is one of the most terrible.”
—Abraham Lincoln
On battlefields, death is everywhere you look. In the chaos of gunfire and bombs, soldiers are often shot, blown up, or trampled in the rush. Sometimes there are so many dead, the bodies can’t be found or buried amid the horrors.
Yet what makes battlefields so terrible also makes them an ideal place to find ghosts. When death comes unexpectedly, like in war, people may not know or accept that they are dead. Their spirits become stuck where they died, doomed to repeat the final moments of their lives. As many battlefields are now memorials to fallen soldiers, they are often haunted by these poor ghosts. This is especially true on the anniversary of the event because that’s when the memory is strongest.
Ghost hunters have tried to gather evidence of these ghosts’ existence, such as images of spirits in photographs and sounds on audiotape. But often the only sources we have are what people have seen or felt in a particular place. That is the basis for many of the stories in this book.
Battlefield Ghosts is filled with many tragic tales of soldiers who lost their lives, as well as some of the most haunted places on Earth. You’ll meet ancient spirits that drag ships down to the depths, and other ghosts who are just looking for a light for their cigarette. They haunt islands in the middle of the vast ocean and small rural towns where battles once raged. What these ghosts have in common is that death caught them by surprise, took their lives without warning, and left their spirits trapped here on Earth, ready for you to discover.
Almost a quarter of the 23,000 men killed or wounded in the Battle of Antietam died in the Bloody Lane.
Japanese fishermen are careful about what they catch along the Kanmon Straits, which separate two of the country’s main islands. They try to avoid the Heikegani crabs, whose shells bear the eerie image of a samurai mask. According to Japanese folklore, the crabs contain the souls of the Heike samurai warriors killed in the straits at the Battle of Dan-no-ura in AD 1185.
This naval battle took place between the fleet of the Heike (also known as the Taira clan), led by the child emperor Antoku, and the Minamoto (or Genji clan), led by Minamoto no Yoshitsune. Initially the two sides were somewhat evenly matched, with archers raining arrows onto opposing ships. Eventually the Heike began to surround and board the Minamoto ships, leading to vicious hand-to-hand fighting between the samurai warriors.
Then the tide turned. A Heike general defected to the Minamoto and attacked the Heike from the rear. He also told the Minamoto which ship held the six-year-old emperor, who was traveling with his grandmother.
When the Heike commander Tomomori realized they were going to be defeated, he tied an anchor to his waist and threw himself into the sea, choosing to take his own life rather than die at the hands of the enemy. Many Heike followed him, including the emperor’s grandmother. She grabbed the young emperor Antoku, saying, “In the depths of the sea, we have a capital.” She dragged him to his death on the ocean floor.
These abrupt and terrible deaths have led to many sightings of angry and vengeful samurai ghosts along the Kanmon Straits.
Minamoto no Yoshitsune was considered one of the greatest samurai of his generation. In one fight on the Gojo Ohashi Bridge, he bested a renowned warrior monk named Benkei. When he lost, Benkei swore his eternal allegiance to Yoshitsune. During the Genpei War, Yoshitsune aided his half brother Minamoto no Yoritomo, who went on to rule Japan once the war was over.
The massive monk Benkei challenged Yoshitsune to a sword fight. When he was defeated, Benkei loyally followed Yoshitsune for the rest of his days.
Yoritomo began to worry that his half brother was becoming too powerful and too popular. He decided that Yoshitsune was a threat to his rule and must die. Before his brother’s soldiers could kill him, Yoshitsune fled with the loyal Benkei by his side. They boarded a ship to take them to safety across Dan-no-ura Bay.
Legend says that after the ship set sail, a weird fog appeared, blocking out the sun. Huge waves rocked the boat and the winds let out an angry wail. Looking out into the water, Yoshitsune realized that the disturbance wasn’t caused by a storm. In the waves he saw the ghostly hands of the dead Taira samurai, rising from their watery graves to drag his ship down.
Yoshitsune battling the Taira ghost samurai.
One warrior spirit broke from the waves and boarded Yoshitsune’s boat. It was the fearsome Taira commander Tomomori, who had killed himself, coming for his revenge. Yoshitsune drew his sword, but Benkei realized there was no way his master could win. How could he kill a dead man?
Benkei went to the front of the ship and began praying for the gods to save them. He prayed so strongly and earnestly that he was able to dispel the angry ghosts. They safely reached the far shore. While they survived the attack, neither of them lived much longer. Yoritomo’s supporters found them a few years later. Benkei held off their attack, even after having been shot by a dozen arrows, allowing Yoshitsune the noble death, per samurai tradition, of ending his own life.
However, even after Yoshitsune’s death, the spirits of the samurai were still not at rest. In his ghost story collection Kwaidan, Lafcadio Hearn wrote, “On dark nights thousands of ghostly fires hover about the beach, or flit above the waves—pale lights which the fishermen call Oni-bi, or demon-fires; and, whenever the winds are up, a sound of great shouting comes from that sea, like a clamor of battle.” These vengeful spirits were known to try to sink ships and drown swimmers. They also appeared when they were least expected.
One such instance occurred in Akamagaséki. In the temple lived a blind man named Hôïchi, who was talented at playing the biwa, a stringed instrument. His most famous song was a retelling of the battle of Dan-no-ura and the terrible death of the Heike clan.
An example of a biwa player, from Shibata Suiha.
On a summer night when the priest was away, Hôïchi was sitting outside on the temple balcony practicing his biwa when he heard an unfamiliar voice call his name. A samurai had come to summon Hôïchi to play for his master, who was very powerful. Afraid to say no, the blind singer followed the man to what he assumed was his master’s huge apartment, where he could hear that a large crowd had gathered.
“Then Hôïchi lifted up his voice,” Hearn wrote, “and chanted the chant of the fight on the bitter sea—wonderfully making his biwa to sound like the straining of oars and the rushing of ships, the whirr and the hissing of arrows, the shouting and trampling of men, the crashing of steel upon helmets, the plunging of slain in the flood.” The crowd
was appreciative, and he was asked to come back the next night. However, he was told not to let anyone know where he was going.
The following night, Hôïchi went again, except this time the temple’s priest realized he was gone and grew concerned for his blind friend, so he had him followed. Hôïchi walked so fast that the men lost him. They searched the streets in the rainy darkness until they heard the frantic notes of his biwa. They followed the sound to a cemetery.
There was Hôïchi, playing in the rain in front of the gravestone of the long-dead Heike ruler Antoku, and “behind him, and about him, and everywhere above the tombs, the fires of the dead were burning, like candles.” He had been bewitched by the demon Oni-bi. This frightened the priest, who—once they returned to the temple—told Hôïchi, “You have put yourself in their power. If you obey them again, after what has already occurred, they will tear you in pieces.”
The only way to save Hôïchi was to write holy text on every inch of his body to make him invisible to the spirit. The priest and his assistants worked quickly, covering him with writing before the next nightfall. Then the priest instructed Hôïchi to sit outside on the balcony with his biwa and wait for the spirit. When it came, he was not to respond. If he moved or made a noise, he would be seen and ripped apart by the ghosts.
Hôïchi did as he was told and soon heard his name being called. He did not respond. The spirit couldn’t seem to see him. It called his name again and walked around the balcony, stopping close to him.
“Here is the biwa; but of the biwa-player I see—only two ears,” said the spirit. “So that explains why he did not answer: he had no mouth to answer with—there is nothing left of him but his ears … Now to my lord those ears I will take—in proof that the august commands have been obeyed, so far as was possible.”
The samurai spirit viciously tore Hôïchi’s ears off his head. Hôïchi did not cry out, even though the pain was awful.
The next morning the priest found Hôïchi still sitting on the patio, alive, but with blood oozing from where his ears had been. It seemed that one of the assistants had failed to write the holy text on the poor man’s ears.
The 1746 Battle of Culloden began as a struggle over who had the right to rule England, Ireland, and Scotland. The rebel group called the Jacobites believed that Charles Stuart, the king’s second cousin once removed, had a better claim to the throne than King George II. The battle ended with government troops led by the Duke of Cumberland chasing Charles’s fleeing Jacobite soldiers across the Scottish moor. Their orders were to give no quarter, which meant no prisoners would be taken. Instead, every enemy soldier who was caught would be killed.
One government soldier said that what followed was “general carnage. The moor was covered with blood; and our men, what with killing the enemy, dabbling their feet in the blood and splashing it about one another, looked like so many butchers.” Another soldier recalled they “could hardly march for dead bodies” covering the ground. For days after the battle, Cumberland’s troops slaughtered every enemy soldier they could find, including the wounded who lay on the battlefield. More than 1,200 Jacobites were viciously killed, many buried in piles where they died.
Perhaps that’s why on the April 16 anniversary of that terrible bloodbath, ghosts of the fallen soldiers are said to rise and fight once more. The clash of swords and the cries of the wounded are heard echoing over the moors throughout the night.
An Incident at the Rebellion of 1745 was painted soon after the Battle of Culloden, showing Jacobite warriors in tartan plaid fighting government troops.
Prince Charles’s grandfather, James, had ruled the countries of England, Ireland, and Scotland from 1685 to 1688 before being overthrown and exiled to Italy. When Charles returned to Scotland in 1745, many people there felt he should be their ruler instead of the current king, George II. Bonnie Prince Charles, as he was known, was able to gather six thousand soldiers, many of them Highlanders from northern Scotland. Known as Jacobites, they began to march against King George’s government troops.
This portrait of Bonnie Prince Charles, painted while he was in Scotland, was rediscovered after hanging for 250 years in an earl’s house.
The government troops were led by King George’s son William, known as the Duke of Cumberland. The Jacobites met them in a few battles as they made their way into England and won. However, the Jacobites ran low on supplies and decided to retreat back to the Scottish highlands, with the duke’s government troops in pursuit.
Bonnie Prince Charles prepared to battle the government troops near Inverness on the Culloden moors, which are open fields. At that time, the government troops, stationed twelve miles away in Nairn, were celebrating Cumberland’s birthday.
Charles thought that night would be an ideal time for a surprise attack. The government troops would be distracted and drunk from the birthday celebrations. He sent nearly three thousand of his Jacobite troops. They struggled for miles through the pitch-black woods, trying to get in position to attack. After stumbling around in the dark, they finally realized they couldn’t get close enough to Cumberland’s camp before dawn. They gave up and went back to their own camp. Then, when they returned to Culloden, they were forced to begin the battle against the government troops without having slept or eaten.
On April 16, 1746, both sides set up for battle on the icy, wet fields. The British government had approximately 7,800 well-trained, well-fed, well-equipped troops against about 5,250 Jacobites, who were hungry and tired from their failed ambush but still fierce fighters at close range. The Scottish were known for their Highland charge, a terrifying attack with a broadsword and shield.
Cumberland’s government troops loaded their cannon with grapeshot, which was a bag full of small iron balls. Cumberland held his troops back and shot down Charles’s attacking lines with rounds of grapeshot across the flat moors. He had also trained his men to defeat the Highland charge using bayonets, which allowed them to get around the Scots’ shields. Jacobite Donald Mackay of Acmonie recalled in later years, “The morning was cold and stormy as we stood on the battlefield, snow and rain blowing against us. Before long we saw the red soldiers, in battle formation, in front of us … the battle began and the pellets came at us like hail-stones. The big guns were thundering and causing frightful break up among us, but we ran forward and—oh dear!, oh dear!—what cutting and slicing there was and many brave deeds performed.”
A British government soldier wrote, “The battle was now entirely fought between swords and bayonets. Our soldiers, by a new practice of using the latter, became much too hard for the swords; and the rebels, as they pushed forward, fell on certain death. Ours at least killed ten to their one in this kind of fighting, besides what fell by the musketry and cannon.”
The wet ground made it difficult to retreat when the battle became a bloody massacre. James Johnstone, a Jacobite officer, later wrote that he turned to flee, “but having charged on foot and in my boots, I was so overcome by the marshy ground, the water of which reached to the middle of my legs, that instead of running, I could barely walk.” Many Jacobites died trying to escape.
After less than an hour, the main battle was over. Fewer than fifty of Cumberland’s troops were killed, while more than a thousand of the Jacobites lay scattered over the moor. Mackay wrote, “The dead lay on all sides and the cries of pain of the wounded rang in our ears. You could see a riderless horse running and jumping as if mad.”
Cumberland’s troops on horseback pursued the fleeing, defeated Jacobite soldiers, cutting them down on the road. One government soldier later wrote, “’Tis said, that hundreds of the rebels, who have died of their wounds, and of hunger, have been found in the hills at twelve, fourteen, or twenty miles distance from the field of battle; and that their misery is inexpressible.” Government soldiers found one group of Jacobite soldiers hiding in a cottage. They locked them in a nearby barn and set it on fire, killing them all. Many of the dead were buried in giant mounds that still dot the battlefield
.
On the anniversary of this battle, the last fought on British soil, ghostly sounds of swords clashing and men groaning in pain have been heard by visitors at Culloden. But what isn’t heard on these terrible nights is the sound of birdsong. Supposedly, the place is so haunted that birds won’t even sing there.
People have also claimed to see a tall Highlander in a tartan kilt walking shell-shocked over the former battlefield. If you manage to get close before he disappears, you can hear him sadly muttering “defeated … defeated … defeated.”
This publication from the time claimed that Simon Fraser’s ghost is doomed “to roam, with weary steps to seek my native home.”
Dr. Anthony Baugh’s family has lived near present-day Malvern, Pennsylvania, since 1743. His ancestors survived the American Revolution, including the September 21, 1777, battle at the nearby General Paoli Tavern. British troops had surprised Brigadier General Anthony Wayne’s sleeping division near the tavern, cutting them to ribbons in a bloody massacre. A Hessian soldier who fought for the British later wrote of that awful night, “We killed three hundred of the rebels with the bayonet. I stuck them myself like so many pigs, one after the other, until the blood ran out of the touch hole of my musket.”
Dr. Baugh, described by the Chester Times as a “hard-headed practitioner and man of science,” knew the town’s history well. So when he said he saw a headless ghost in 1932 on the anniversary of the Paoli Massacre, the townsfolk believed him.
The Times reported the encounter: “The ghost rode in Paoli last night … clad in the blue and buff of the Continental Army.” In an interview with the paper, Dr. Baugh said, “the ghostly rider, mounted on a gray horse, rode north on Darby Road from a point about 500 yards out of Lancaster Pike.” He had seen the same ghost the year before; so have many others before and since for more than a century. Who was this restless spirit, and where was the headless horseman headed?
Battlefield Ghosts Page 1
