by Mark Latham
Contents
Introduction
Chapter 1 – Sleepy Hollow
The Legend
Irving and Crane: Ghost Hunters
The Hessian
Victims of the Horseman
Chapter 2 – Hunting the Horseman
Summoning and Vanquishing the Horseman
A Final Confrontation
Irving’s Occult Studies
Chapter 3 – Headless Horsemen through History
English Horsemen
Celtic Horsemen
Germanic Horsemen
Chapter 4 – To the Ends of the Earth
American Gothic
El Muerto
Irving’s Legacy
Chapter 5 – Legacy of the Horseman
Books and Film
Introduction
“Faith, sir,” replied the story-teller, “as to that matter, I don't believe one-half of it myself.”
- D.K.
The Legend of Sleepy Hollow has long held a fascination for scholars of the supernatural, and, more commonly, those who study the rise of the “urban legend.” For this short tale by acclaimed American author Washington Irving, based on snatches of folklore and ghost stories from the Dutch settlement of Tarrytown, New York, is widely believed to be a fiction, dreamt up from Irving’s vivid imagination. That it has come to capture the public imagination, becoming known as a real slice of American folk mythology rather than a mere story, is testament to the power of the narrative. Parallels may well be drawn between Sleepy Hollow and the British tale of Sweeney Todd, the Demon Barber of Fleet Street – another fictional character widely believed to have existed in old London town.
But what if The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, and its grim story of the unfortunate schoolteacher Ichabod Crane, was not a fiction at all? What if, in the tradition of his peers across the world, Washington Irving had stumbled upon a supernatural truth, an esoteric mystery so dark as to defy the rationale of everyday folk? Wrapped in the disguise of a storybook, The Legend of Sleepy Hollow merely hints at the true nature of the Headless Horseman. For these ghastly spirits are not just found in the state of New York, nor even on American soil. Headless spirits are a unique, sentient form of wraith, and tales of their terrifying exploits have been recorded since the Dark Ages.
The book you hold in your hands uncovers certain uncomfortable truths. Truths that reveal the Headless Horseman, and others like him, to be at large in the dark places of the world. Should one encounter a headless spirit of this type, then it is said that tragedy will surely follow, for the one common thread of all the tales of headless spirits is that they are harbingers of evil and dismay. For most common folk, it is better to go through life not knowing of the existence of these fell entities. If you are such a soul, better to close this book now than to have the safe haven of ignorance torn from you. But if you are of a more intrepid mind, and would rather have the truth at any cost, then read on, if you dare …
Chapter 1 – Sleepy Hollow
From the listless repose of the place, and the peculiar character of its inhabitants, who are descendants from the original Dutch settlers, this sequestered glen has long been known by the name of Sleepy Hollow … A drowsy, dreamy influence seems to hang over the land, and to pervade the very atmosphere.
Our story begins not at the very origins of the headless spirits, but at the site of their most famous haunt: Sleepy Hollow itself, which lies in the valley of the Pocantico River, a small stream that flows into the Hudson. It was in this remote settlement that Washington Irving, following in the footsteps of the real Ichabod Crane, encountered the malevolent horseman. Assuming the nom de plume of storyteller “Diedrich Knickerbocker,” Irving penned the tale of Crane’s exploits, hoping it would serve as a grim warning to future generations. Had he known that one day his writings would be laughed off as a harmless ghost story, he might have reconsidered his approach. For now, however, let us examine the tale, as told by Irving so long ago, and its ghastly message.
The Legend
The old country wives, however, who are the best judges of these matters, maintain to this day that Ichabod was spirited away by supernatural means; and it is a favorite story often told about the neighborhood round the winter evening fire. The bridge became more than ever an object of superstitious awe; and that may be the reason why the road has been altered of late years, so as to approach the church by the border of the millpond. The schoolhouse being deserted soon fell to decay, and was reported to be haunted by the ghost of the unfortunate pedagogue and the plowboy, loitering homeward of a still summer evening, has often fancied his voice at a distance, chanting a melancholy psalm tune among the tranquil solitudes of Sleepy Hollow.
Irving’s famous “legend” relates the tale of Ichabod Crane, a schoolteacher from Connecticut, and his adventures in Sleepy Hollow. This secluded glen is situated in the countryside around the Dutch settlement of Tarrytown, and was renowned for its ghosts and superstitions long before the arrival of Crane. The most infamous specter of the region was, of course, the Headless Horseman – thought to be the restless spirit of a Hessian artilleryman, killed during “some nameless battle” of the American Revolutionary War, and who rode abroad “to the scene of the battle in nightly quest for his head.”
When Ichabod Crane arrived in Sleepy Hollow, he fell in love with Katrina Van Tassel (in reality Catriena Van Tassel), the sole daughter of wealthy farmer Baltus Van Tassel, and set about attempting to win her hand. However, his rival for the affections of Katrina was local hero and rowdy Abraham Van Brunt, known locally as “Brom Bones.” Crane was a jittery, superstitious man, and before long Brom took advantage of his rival’s nervous nature by playing a series of practical jokes upon him, making Crane – a Yankee and an outsider – look foolish at every opportunity.
Baltus Van Tassel’s fortune was the greatest in the area, and Katrina was thus the most eligible young woman in Sleepy Hollow. Though by modern standards it paints his protagonist in a poor light, Irving was clear that Ichabod Crane coveted Katrina’s dowry as much as her love. With this in mind, Ichabod attended a harvest party at the Van Tassel home, where he danced, feasted, and listened to ghost stories told by the locals. When the party-goers finally went home, Ichabod stayed behind and proposed to Katrina, but was refused. Crestfallen, Ichabod returned home, riding through the woods between the farmstead and Sleepy Hollow late at night.
Ichabod, his imagination fired up by the stories told that night, was in a nervous state. Passing beneath a lightning-stricken tulip tree – itself a haunted spot – Ichabod reached at last an intersection in the road, in the midst of a swamp. There, he encountered a horseman, cloaked and silent, and upon closer inspection realized that the stranger’s head was not on his shoulders, but instead lashed to his saddle. Ichabod spurred on his horse and fled, aiming for the bridge next to the Old Dutch Burial Ground, where it was said the Hessian would vanish upon crossing. Making it at last to the bridge, Ichabod urged his plough-horse across, and turned in horror to see the Headless Horseman crossing also. There was no flash of fire and brimstone as the legend suggested – instead, the Hessian reared his horse and flung his flaming head at Ichabod’s face, unseating the schoolmaster at once.
The next morning, Ichabod Crane was nowhere to be found. Indeed, the only traces of him at all were his wandering horse, trampled hat, and remnants of a shattered pumpkin. Brom Bones was thus free to marry Katrina, and the story as written clearly implicates him in the disappearance of Ichabod Crane. Yet, even if Brom had dressed up as the Hessian and used a jack o’lantern as a “severed head,” was he really the sort of man to dispose of a weaker opponent so cruelly?
If
we take Washington Irving’s tale as more than a mere fiction, it begs the questions – what happened to Ichabod? And who bore witness to tell the tale to Irving?
By the time Irving came to write his tale, his opinion of strict schoolmaster Ichabod Crane was somewhat low. Irving wrote: “To see him striding along the profile of a hill on a windy day, with his clothes bagging and fluttering about him, one might have mistaken him for the genius of famine descending upon the earth, or some scarecrow eloped from a cornfield.”
Irving and Crane: Ghost Hunters
The reality of the story is perhaps even stranger than fiction. From secret journals long suppressed, we know now that Washington Irving traveled to Sleepy Hollow in the early part of 1799 as a teenager, having come across the tale of the Headless Horseman in the library at Tarrytown. Three years later, he began to carve out a reputation for himself as a keen folklorist and essayist. In the years to come, Washington Irving would become something more, too: a psychical investigator, one of the earliest known proponents of the application of scientific method in discovering and monitoring supernatural phenomena.
This strange – and secret – pursuance of a career little known was not an accidental turn. In Sleepy Hollow, the young Irving had heard the strange tale of the disappearance of a schoolmaster named Crane. Irving had the chance to meet Katrina Van Tassel – now Mrs Van Brunt – for himself, and hear the story from her own lips. Resourceful even at such a young age, Washington persuaded the elders of the glen to let him see Ichabod Crane’s possessions – never claimed of course. Amongst them were several books on diverse topics, from folklore and occult philosophy to “psychical phenomena,” and it was these books that would fire Washington Irving’s imagination for some time to come. Even more fantastic, however, was a fat, leather-wrapped journal written in Crane’s own hand, and retained in the possession of Katrina Van Brunt. Irving used all of his guile and part of his modest allowance to procure the book, which was written largely in shorthand and decorated with sigils and signs of occult provenance. The elders, naturally, believed that Crane had dabbled in satanic rituals, and had perhaps brought the Horseman down upon himself in so doing. But Irving did not believe that was the full story. When later he returned to New York, it was with a new field of study in mind.
Upon reaching his 18th birthday, Irving was invited to join a private and highly secretive gentlemen’s club in New York City, the Lycean. This chapter of Irving’s life has been hitherto undocumented, but membership of this society opened many doors for the young folklorist, and within the vast library and archive room of the club he began to decipher Crane’s journal, and piece together the truth about Sleepy Hollow. It seemed that Crane himself had been a member of the Lycean, and had set off to Sleepy Hollow incognito, on the business of “psychical research.” Once there, he had fallen for a local girl, which compromised his investigation and unwittingly made him a target for the ill-will of the locals. The magical wards and charms detailed in Crane’s journal were evidence, Irving believed, that Crane thought the Headless Horseman to be controlled by one or more of the locals. By the end, Crane was desperate, believing himself to be a target of the Horseman. When he attended the Van Tassel gathering, it had not been solely to win Katrina’s hand, but to entice her to flee with him before the Horseman rode abroad. This had formed the basis of the last journal entry, written just hours before Crane’s fateful ride into the woods near Sleepy Hollow.
When Irving presented these findings to senior figures at the Lycean, he was hurriedly inducted into a mysterious agency, operating from within the club. There, Irving was shown secrets handed to the club from agents in Europe and the Middle East, charting supernatural phenomena across the globe. He devoured the esoteric teachings of Franz Anton Mesmer, and read suppressed fragments of the Books of Grimm – essays by two brothers living in Germany that contained disturbing truths rather than fanciful fiction. In particular, a series of letters written to the Lycean by Jacob Grimm made reference to the headless Grey Huntsman of Germany, which was renowned as a harbinger of doom. Irving discovered a world beyond the realm of the physical – a world in which ghosts and goblins existed, and long-dead Hessian horsemen could ride through darkened forests of a night, compelled by some unknown force.
There was little doubt in Irving’s mind that, now armed with occult secrets and glimpses of a terrible truth, only one course of action was available to him. He must return to Sleepy Hollow.
Washington Irving, c.1842, after a long and successful career battling the supernatural.
The Hessian
How often did he shrink with curdling awe at the sound of his own steps on the frosty crust beneath his feet; and dread to look over his shoulder, lest he should behold some uncouth being tramping close behind him! And how often was he thrown into complete dismay by some rushing blast, howling among the trees, in the idea that it was the Galloping Hessian on one of his nightly scourings!
Irving’s first recourse was to research the Horseman himself, for the young “psychical detective” believed the key to unraveling the mystery of Sleepy Hollow lay in understanding who the phantom rider was in life.
The libraries in New York and Tarrytown – even that of the Lycean – were of little use, telling Irving only what he already knew. The Hessian was an artilleryman in a mercenary regiment, sent to the Americas in the employ of the British. At White Plains, the nameless soldier had been killed by a stray cannon-shot, his head struck from his shoulders in an instant. Yet many died that day at White Plains, so why should this lowly artilleryman have been singled out for ghostly resurrection?
Irving became obsessed with his studies, making several trips to Tarrytown and Sleepy Hollow over the months that followed. In Sleepy Hollow he questioned the locals as subtly as he could, gathering clues as to the identity of the Hessian. Irving sent several missives to the Apollonian Club of London – the twin institution of New York’s Lycean – and received by return post a collection of army reports of the Hessian forces that served at White Plains. Several likely candidates for the true identity of the Horseman presented themselves, and Irving used this information to assist in his discreet inquiries.
He learned that the Hessian had been an officer in the light artillery, hence the horse. The officer was carried away by his compatriots, and buried in the Old Dutch cemetery at Sleepy Hollow, though the head – sundered by the cannonball – was not recovered. Irving also discovered that the head was never found, but learned of another local legend that told of battlefield scavengers picking White Plains clean when the fighting was done, and placing the heads of the fallen enemy on stakes along the road from Singsing to Tarrytown, as a warning to British forces in the future. Though most of these heads were eventually gathered and buried with the dead in a mass grave near the Old Dutch Church, some were never recovered. Though he could not be certain which version of events presented the truth, Irving surmised that, in death, the Hessian was never reunited with his head, presenting a cause for his nightly wanderings.
Irving spoke to several elderly residents of Sleepy Hollow who had been alive at the time of the infamous battle, chief amongst them an old widow who lived alone on the edge of the glen. Shunned by the other villagers amidst rumors of witchcraft, the widow nevertheless provided much of interest to the inquisitive young writer. Correlating her tales with the notes in Crane’s journal, Washington Irving began to piece together a picture of the Hessian’s life and last days that shone new and disturbing light upon the accepted facts.
The picture painted of the Hessian by the octogenarian widow was one of a savage bully, who had traveled with his German compatriots not merely for the coin of his paymasters, but for the love of slaughter. The Hessian had not been trained as an artilleryman originally, but had instead been a sapper – a front-line assault trooper deployed to erect defensive lines and destroy enemy fortifications. Armed with axe and sword, these “engineers” were often large, aggressive men who excelled at close-quarter fighting, and
Irving’s Hessian, it seemed, was no exception. His blood-lust became so noted during the American campaign that the Hessian was almost sent home in disgrace after butchering whole families and collecting grizzly trophies. Unlike his fellows, he was said to maintain a ferocious appearance, his hair tousled, his teeth filed to points the better to bite his foes savagely, and his uniform replaced almost entirely with non-regulation black clothing found on campaign.
Reviled by friend and foe alike for their uncompromising tactics and insular command structure, the Hessians were hardy mercenaries.
Irving spent many hours with the old widow, listening to her tales of the Hessian. He learned how, at the Battle of Long Island, the soldier had been decorated for valor, winning a field promotion. Even then his vicious streak should have been noted – the decoration was won because the Hessian, while storming the American barricades, had single-handedly slain a dozen regulars in a display of martial prowess so fearsome that half a company had fled the sight of it. That the Hessian had dismembered his enemies after death like slaughtered cattle, until his uniform was blood-scarlet, was ignored in the glow of victory.
After that first battle, the Hessian was allegedly engaged in a fight with one of his English allies. The English mistrusted the German troops, and this enmity often spilled over into violence in camp. On this particular occasion, three English subalterns, drunk after receiving the spoils of war, waylaid the Hessian. The German, supposedly not understanding his tormentors, became enraged and killed one of the men, half hacking off the subaltern’s head with a “hanger,” or stubby cutlass. Having just the previous day received an honor for bravery, the Hessian was acquitted of any wrongdoing, although relations between the English and Hessian troops continued to be strained throughout the campaign.