Washington Square was called Southeast Square in William Penn’s original plan for the City of Philadelphia, but for the first 90 years of it’s existence the Square was better known as “that place we toss dead people no one cares very much about.”  Prior to the Revolution, it was the final resting place of the poor and the anonymous.  During the War, soldiers who died in Philadelphia (generally of disease) were thrown into mass graves here.  When the British occupied Philadelphia, the old Walnut Street Prison (which overlooks the park) became a “Dantesque vision of hell” and those who died at the prison were tossed in the park.  When the Americans retook the city, dead British soldiers were added to the pile.  In short, Washington Square Park is made of dead people.

The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier was commissioned in 1954 and completed in 1957.  The “unknown soldier” was exhumed from the mass graves beneath the park by an archaological team, who determined that he was approximately twenty years old when he was killed by a musket shot to the head.  Due to the sordid history of the park, there is no way to be certain that the soldier was fighting for the Americans or the Brits.

The bronze statue of Washington is not an original, but a replica of Jean-Antoine Houdon’s marble statue of Washington at the Virginia State Capitol, commissioned by Thomas Jefferson and dedicated in 1788.  He stands above a stone sarcophagus that holds the remains of the Unknown Soldier, looking toward Independence Hall.  The Traditional Fine Arts Organization describes Houdon’s statue thusly:

“The statue presents Washington erect, head uncovered, sword on the left, cane in the right hand — representing in device what Washington had so forcibly expressed in his reply to the address of the General Assembly of Virginia: the subordination of the military to the civil power. The fasces and ploughshare are by his side; the one representing authority, power and honor and the other, the peaceful arts most congenial to his taste and feelings. Houdon’s monument to America’s foremost Revolutionary War hero recalls his life as a soldier, statesman, and lover of the peaceful arts.”

Behind Washington is a wall bearing three inscriptions.  Above his head a large inscription reads “FREEDOM IS A LIGHT FOR WHICH MANY MEN HAVE DIED IN DARKNESS.”  To his right, a smaller inscription reads “IN UNMARKED GRAVES WITHIN THIS SQUARE LIE THOUSANDS OF UNKNOWN SOLDIERS OF WASHINGTON’S ARMY WHO DIED OF WOUNDS AND SICKNESS DURING THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR.”  To his left is inscribed a portion of his 1794 farewell address:  “THE INDEPENDENCE AND LIBERTY YOU POSSESS ARE THE WORK OF JOINT COUNCILS AND JOINT EFFORTS OF COMMON DANGERS, SUFFERINGS AND SUCCESS.”

As a grammar maven, I can’t help noting the lack of a serial (or “Oxford”) comma on that last inscription, rendering it more in-line with British grammar than American.

The monument has been added to several times.  In 1976, for the United States Bicentennial, an eternal flame was added in front of the sarcophagus.  In front of the eternal flame is a small sign that is my favorite in all of Philadelphia.  It reads “Caution – Open Flame – Do Not Touch; Touching Flame or Metal Guard Will Cause Injury.”  Indeed.

On the ground near the monument is a plaque, original to the monument’s construction, that reads “THIS MONUMENT together with its COURT OF FLAGS, the FOUNTAIN and the COLONIAL WALL surrounding the SQUARE were made possible by the generosity of many interested business firms and individual friends of WASHINGTON SQUARE.  Dedicated June 28, 1957.”

Nearby that plaque is inset a brick, apparently installed in 1987 to commemorate 200 years of the Constitution, inscribed: “Through Your Sacrifice The CONSTITUTION Lives.  We The People 1787-1987″

Architect: G. Edwin Brumbaugh
Dedicated: 1957
Location: Washington Square, central

Probably the only Revolutionary War general to suffer metal-plate-in-the-head-induced epilepsy, Anthony Wayne is likely best known for having a ton of things named after him. At least twelve counties, twenty municipalities (including nearby Wayne, PA), one river and one national park are named for “Mad Anthony,” who earned his nickname either from his fiery personality and daring on the battlefield or from the aforementioned metal plate – used to repair a musket hole in his head – which caused him epileptic seizures and ‘foamy-mouth.’ Sources disagree on which.

Wayne, like everyone in those days, started off as a surveyor. Surveying was, understandably, big business in the New World, and I’m assuming most of them worked for Thomas Jefferson, an architect and the only founding father who was not a surveyor. Wayne did in fact work for Benjamin Franklin, surveying land in Nova Scotia owned by Franklin and some associates.

When the Revolutionary War broke, Wayne determined that his topographical mapping skills made him a perfect military leader. Others agreed with him, and within a year he was colonel of the Fourth Regiment of Pennsylvania. He turned out to in fact be pretty good at military tactics, though to be fair at that point the bar was set fairly low. Wayne was the first one to suggest training American troops, and after all how great can an army be if they’re hiring epileptic colonels? Within another year, he was brigadier general.

In combat, Wayne was known for two things: (1) holding out way longer than expected in battles he lost; and (2) winning sometimes. Like most of the American Revolutionary forces, he started slow but won more often as the war went on. Wayne became one of George Washington’s go-to guys (Washington once confided to Jefferson, “I like the way he shimmy-shakes”). Wayne was at the Valley Forge encampment, and he was a delegate at the Georgia state Constitutional Convention. He became a successful politician before re-entering the military at Washington’s request to join the Northwest Indian War, which he was instrumental in ending.

Returning from that War, Wayne died of complications from gout. Not one to do anything simply, he was first buried in Erie, PA, dug up thirteen years later, boiled to remove his flesh from his bones, and then his bones were brought to Radnor, PA (outside Philadelphia). Story says that along the trip (which followed the road today known as PA-322) many of Wayne’s bones were lost, and that his ghost still haunts that roadway to this day, in search of his lost bones.

General Wayne left quite a legacy. Batman (AKA Bruce Wayne), John Wayne (real name Marion Robert Morrison – his first screen name was Anthony Wayne until producers had him change it to John) and race-car driver Tony Stewart (Anthony Wayne Stewart) were all named for him, along with the places mentioned above and the assorted schools, libraries, sporting venues and other mishigos that gets named for you when you’re important and dead.

The statue beside the Philadelphia Art Museum was sculpted by John Gregory and installed in 1937 by the Sons of the Revolution, with a pedestal designed by architect Paul P. Cret (yes, it required an architect to design a rectangular pedestal). Wayne is on horseback, with sword drawn (a dangerous tendency, one would think, for an epileptic) and faces northeast toward….well… Northeast Philadelphia. What he sees there I couldn’t say. Perhaps he’s challenging Rocky to a fight? He is kinda nuts, from what I hear.

The inscription at the foot of the monument reads:

Anthony Wayne
A memorial of his valour
A tribute to his achievements
In the War of Independence
The Pennsylvania Society
Sons of the Revolution
Here inscribe his name
In honour
1937

Sculptor: John Gregory
Dedicated: 1937
Location: Art Museum (exterior) just southwest from the top of “the steps”

The “Father of the American Navy,” Commodore John Barry was born in Tacumshane, County Wexford, Ireland, but became an adopted son of Philadelphia and a hero of the American Revolution. Even though he’s also got a bridge here in Philly (connecting the most ambitious traveler to Bridgeport, NJ) and a statue in front (yes, that’s the front) of Independence Hall, very few people know anything about John Barry.

Born the son of a poor Irish farmer, Barry entered the Royal Navy as a cabin boy; by the age of 30 Barry was a highly regarded officer, and was made a Captain in the Continental Navy in 1775. He was the first to capture a British war vessel on the high seas, and captured a total of 20 during his career. Among his other heroic deeds, he quelled three mutinies (one wonders about his demeanor as a captain if he faced three mutinies, but hey…), fought as a Marine at the Battles of Trenton and Princeton, and fought the last naval battle of the Revolution aboard the frigate Alliance in 1783.

Barry died in Philadelphia in 1803 and was interred behind Old St. Mary’s Church. His statue stands in front of Independence Hall, a centerpiece of Independence Square. Descriptions of the statue say that he is pointing toward battle (being that he’s in full regalia), but he also happens to be pointing toward the Philadelphia Navy Yard, which became a Naval Shipyard in 1801, two years prior to Barry’s death. Then again, he might be directing visitors away from Independence Hall, aiding the bicycle barriers and armed Park Rangers in saying, “you are not welcome here.”

I like to think he’s giving New Jersey a piece of his mind.

Sculptor: Samuel Murray
Dedicated: 1907
Location: Independence Square, in front (south) of Independence Hall

In 1981, when Sylvester Stallone finished Rocky 3, he gave the City of Philadelphia a gift: an eight-foot-tall statue of himself that he didn’t need any more. Christmas at Sly’s house must be a gas.

The statue, a prop, stood at the top of the Philadelphia Museum of Art for the duration of filming, and once filming was finished Stallone liked it so much that he requested it stay there forever. The idea generated, as one might imagine, a fair amount of controversy: a movie-prop statue of a fake boxer as the frontispiece to one of the more elegantly designed museums of fine art in the country. The Art Commission and the Museum of Art went toe-to-toe in a match that would have done Rocky and Apollo proud.

Finally, the City settled on placing the statue at the Spectrum, the fight where many of Rocky’s (fictional) fights were held. In its place at the top of the steps, the Art Museum placed a modest plaque featuring a pair of boot-prints and the word “Rocky.” The statue was returned to the top of the Art Museum steps for the filming of “Rocky 5,” after which it went right back to the Spectrum.
In 2006, thirty years after the release of the original “Rocky” and just in time for the release of “Rocky Balboa,” the statue found a new permanent home at the Art Museum, this time just northeast of the base of the steps. It has its own small glade and a path that is home to a perpetual line of tourists, all waiting for their turn to snap a photo raising their hands in triumphant Rocky fashion. Many of them then go on to run up the steps of the Art Museum and do a little fist-pumping dance at the top.

A replica of this statue (perhaps I should say “sister,” since they were produced at the same time – remember, it’s a movie prop) has been listed on eBay several times in an effort to raise money for charity – first at $5 million, then at $3 million, and several more times at $1 million. It has never received a genuine bid.
Sculptor: A Thomas Schomberg
Dedicated: 1981
Location: Eakins Oval, Northern Corner (at foot of Art Museum Steps)

Francisco de Miranda was born and raised in Caracas, Venezuela, in the 1750′s-60′s. He fought in the American Revolution, leading Spanish troops against the English in Florida and Mississippi. He met with most of the Founding Fathers, moved to London, married an English lady, and had two kids. Then in 1791, be became a general in the French Revolution and got his name engraved on the Arc de Triomphe. Unfortunately, he just couldn’t get enough revolution, and it was his third one that got him in trouble. He fought against the Spanish alongside Simon Bolivar in the Venezuelan War for Independence. When Miranda signed an armistice, Bolivar accused him of treason and turned him over to the Spanish Royal Army. Marinda spent four years in a Spanish prison and died in captivity. Within fourteen years, most of Spanish America was independent.

I guess as the years went by, the Venezuelan perspective on Miranda shifted, at least from Bolivar’s. In 1977 the Venezuelan government donated this statue to the City of Philadelphia.

There’s a statue of Miranda in London, also, but there he holds a parchment. Somehow, the sword seems more appropriate.

Sculptor: Lorenzo Gonzalez
Dedicated: 1977
Location: Winter St & Ben Franklin Parkway (just North of Franklin Institute)