Sleepy Hollow: Breaking the Curse
1The dominant spirit, however, that haunts this enchanted region, and seems to be commander-in-chief of all the powers of the air, is the apparition of a figure on horseback, without a head. It is said by some to be the ghost of a Hessian trooper, whose head had been carried away by a cannon-ball, in some nameless battle during the Revolutionary War, and who is ever and anon seen by the country folk hurrying along in the gloom of night, as if on the wings of the wind. His haunts are not confined to the valley, but extend at times to the adjacent roads, and especially to the vicinity of a church at no great distance. Indeed, certain of the most authentic historians of those parts, who have been careful in collecting and collating the floating facts concerning this spectre, allege that the body of the trooper having been buried in the churchyard, the ghost rides forth to the scene of battle in nightly quest of his head, and that the rushing speed with which he sometimes passes along the Hollow, like a midnight blast, is owing to his being belated, and in a hurry to get back to the churchyard before daybreak.
Such is the general purport of this legendary superstition, which has furnished materials for many a wild story in that region of shadows; and the spectre is known at all the country firesides, by the name of the Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow…
…There was a contagion in the very air that blew from that haunted region; it breathed forth an atmosphere of dreams and fancies infecting all the land... Many dismal tales were told about funeral trains, and mourning cries and wailings heard and seen about the great tree where the unfortunate Major Andre was taken, and which stood in the neighborhood. Some mention was made also of the woman in white, that haunted the dark glen at Raven Rock, and was often heard to shriek on winter nights before a storm, having perished there in the snow. The chief part of the stories, however, turned upon the favorite spectre of Sleepy Hollow, the Headless Horseman, who had been heard several times of late, patrolling the country; and, it was said, tethered his horse nightly among the graves in the churchyard.
The sequestered situation of this church seems always to have made it a favorite haunt of troubled spirits. It stands on a knoll, surrounded by locust, trees and lofty elms, from among which its decent, whitewashed walls shine modestly forth, like Christian purity beaming through the shades of retirement. A gentle slope descends from it to a silver sheet of water, bordered by high trees, between which, peeps may be caught at the blue hills of the Hudson. To look upon its grass-grown yard, where the sunbeams seem to sleep so quietly, one would think that there at least the dead might rest in peace. On one side of the church extends a wide woody dell, along which raves a large brook among broken rocks and trunks of fallen trees. Over a deep black part of the stream, not far from the church, was formerly thrown a wooden bridge; the road that led to it, and the bridge itself, were thickly shaded by overhanging trees, which cast a gloom about it, even in the daytime; but occasioned a fearful darkness at night. Such was one of the favorite haunts of the Headless Horseman, and the place where he was most frequently encountered.
The Legend of Sleepy Hollow: Washington IrvingIn the dark shadow of the grove, on the margin of the brook, she beheld something huge, misshapen and towering. It stirred not, but seemed gathered up in the gloom, like some gigantic monster ready to spring upon her.
The hair of the frightened girl rose upon her head with terror. What was to be done? To turn and fly was now too late; and besides, what chance was there of escaping ghost or goblin, if such it was, which could ride upon the wings of the wind? Summoning up, therefore, a show of courage, she demanded in stammering accents, "Who are you?" She received no reply. She repeated her demand in a still more agitated voice. Still there was no answer. Just then the shadowy object of alarm put itself in motion, and with a scramble and a bound stood at once in the middle of the road. Though the night was dark and dismal, yet the form of the unknown might now in some degree be ascertained. He appeared to be a horseman of large dimensions, and mounted on a black horse of powerful frame. He made no offer of molestation or sociability, but kept aloof on one side of the road.
Sheba, who had no relish for this strange midnight companion, now broke into a run in hopes of leaving him behind. The stranger, however, quickened his horse to an equal pace. Sheba fell into a walk, thinking to lag behind, -- the other did the same. Her heart began to sink within her. There was something in the moody and dogged silence of this pertinacious companion that was mysterious and appalling. It was soon fearfully accounted for. On mounting a rising ground, which brought the figure of her fellow traveler in relief against the sky, gigantic in height, and muffled in a cloak, Sheba was horror-struck on perceiving that he was headless! but her horror was still more increased on observing that the head, which should have rested on his shoulders, was carried before him on the pommel of his saddle! Her terror rose to desperation. Away, then, they dashed through thick and thin; stones flying and sparks flashing at every bound. Sheba's flimsy garments fluttered in the air, as she sprinted in the eagerness of her flight.
They had now reached the road, which turns off to Sleepy Hollow. This road leads through a sandy hollow shaded by trees for about a quarter of a mile, where it crosses the bridge famous in the goblins story; and just beyond swells the green knoll on which stands the whitewashed church.
An opening, in the trees now cheered her with the hopes that the church bridge was at hand. The wavering reflection of a silver star in the bosom of the brook told her that she was not mistaken. She saw the walls of the church dimly glaring under the trees beyond. "If I can but reach that bridge," thought Sheba, "I am safe." Just then she heard the black steed panting and blowing close behind her; she even fancied that she felt his hot breath. She sprang upon the bridge; she thundered over the resounding planks; she gained the opposite side; and now Sheba cast a look behind to see if her pursuer should vanish, according to rule, in a flash of fire and brimstone. Just then she saw the goblin rising in his stirrups, and in the very act of hurling his head at her…
She sat bolt upright in bed, a voiceless scream trying to erupt from her paralyzed throat. The bedsheets were soaked with sweat and her thin nightgown clung to her as if she had been standing in the rain. Disoriented she looked around the room for any sign of her whereabouts or the goblin that had chased her. A sigh of relief as her heartbeat began to return to normal. Detective Branson still slept in the bed beside her. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand of the hotel room: 12:01. "Twenty-four hours to go and this nightmare will be over, one way or another," she thought to herself.
Unwilling to go back to sleep she rose slowly from the bed deciding to take a shower. Her name is Bathsheba Crane. 1She is unusually tall for a woman at six feet in height; athletically built, with very white skin and red curls with blonde highlights, blue eyes, an aquiline nose, a pretty mouth and, it is said, perfect breasts. She worked for the National Security Agency (NSA) as a paranormal investigator. Her current case, however, was personal.
As long as she could remember, the Headless Horseman has haunted her nightmares, but until tonight they had never been so real. A recent series of murders, involving decapitation, had captured her attention and brought her from Dallas, Texas to Sleepy Hollow, New York. During her research into the history of the region before her trip, Sheba discovered she was the last descendant of Ichabod Crane. It was then she first read The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. Research into her family history provided her with information that Washington Irving left out of his story or was unaware of.
Ichabod Crane had been a schoolmaster in Connecticut prior to his journey to Tarrytown and Sleepy Hollow. There he left a young woman with child, the boy who was her grandfather six generations removed.
Her research revealed the connection between the recent murders and The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. Each of the recent victims had been the last living relative of Irving's characters. In truth only three were left when she arrived in Sleepy Hollow, Anika Vanderbilt descended from one of the 'Sleepy Hollow Boys,' Aaron Branson descendant of Bram Bones and Katrina van Tassel and lastly herself.
Upon her arrival, Monday, 24 October, she followed the 'tourist route' of landmarks. When she reached the site of 'the old bridge' a chill ran down her spine. Deja Vu she had been here in her nightmares, but the bridge had been intact in her dreams. She could almost hear the unearthly laughter of the Hessian even now in daylight.
The following day Sheba visited the County Records Department to validate her initial research and fill in the local details. According to the records Abraham van Brunt married Katrina van Tassel within days of Ichabod Crane's disappearance. They were wed for thirty years before Katrina died. They had one son. Two years after Katrina's death Bram Bones vanished without a trace.
Sightings of the Horseman became less frequent after 1812 and faded into legend and myth by 1865. Recent events began inciting new reports of sightings after a hundred year respite. That night she ventured out to follow the route of the infamous ride on a rented motorcycle. The lights and sirens of an unmarked police car gave her cause to pull over to the side of the road.
The detective was broad-shouldered and double-jointed, with short curly black hair, and a bluff but not unpleasant countenance, having a mingled air of fun and arrogance; the very image of his ancestor. "Dangerous place to be at this hour, miss," he said.
Before he could utter another syllable the Sheba pulled out her ID and said, "Bathsheba Crane, NSA."
"Detective Aaron Branson, Sleepy Hollow P.D.," he responded showing his own identification. "What does the NSA want in Sleepy Hollow?"
"This is actually personal, family business," she replied.
"Well, Ms. Crane, can I be of help?"
"Call me Sheba," she responded. "I believe you and I are working on the same case detective. I am investigating the 'Horseman' killings."
"You said this was personal, Sheba."
"It is and you are more deeply involved than you realize, Detective Branson. I am the last descendant of Ichabod Crane and if my research is correct you are the only living relative of Abraham van Brunt also known as Bram Bones."
"I think you had better come back to the station with me and tell me what you know."
"Gladly."
Friday, October 28. Aaron and Sheba had become more than colleagues. They spent last night together in her hotel room. Sheba woke as she had every night since coming to Sleepy Hollow from a nightmare, but this one was different. "Aaron, wake up," she said. "I know where the Hessian's head is. We can finally end the ride of the Headless Horseman."
They showered, dressed, and departed for the sight of the battlefield where the Hessian lost his head. In the hollow of an old, twisted, gnarled, hideous tree they found a cannon ball and the bleached remains of a skull. Sheba saw the faithful event 'through the eyes of the Hessian' as she touched the remains:
A wounded American cannoneer begged the Hessian for mercy. The German mercenary stabbed the soldier with his sword and picked up a fallen purse of gold. As the Hessian rode away, the cannoneer's final act was to light the fuse on his cannon. The ball impacted the German's head and carried it to this spot…but there was more to the tale.
Bram Bones stood nearby years later. The Horseman astride his steed 'listened' as Bram made a 'bargain with the devil.' Bram pledged his soul against the Horseman's if Ichabod Crane vanished and Bram could spend his life with Katrina. Two years after Katrina's death, the Hessian came to collect on the debt.
"Sheba are you alright?" asked Detective Branson.
"Not one, but two Horsemen," Bathsheba absently responded.
"What are you talking about?" he continued. Before she could answer his cell phone rang. After a brief conversation he turned back to her and announced, "Anika Vanderbilt was found in her apartment this morning, decapitated like the rest."
"Come on, we need to prepare," Sheba insisted. "This Halloween the nightmare ends."
They spent the rest of the day buying candles, incense, and an odd array of other things. When Aaron asked what they were doing Sheba only stated, "One doesn't become a paranormal investigator without learning a little witchcraft."
That night in the cemetery of the old churchyard Sheba cast her spell. She uttered ancient words that Aaron could not begin to fathom. The scents of the candles, incense and the potion she brewed, mingled with the dank smell of the graveyard, sickly sweet and nauseating almost causing him to loose his dinner. To make matters worse she insisted he 'make love to her' immediately after she finished reciting the incantation, in the cemetery almost on top of the grave of the Hessian. She insisted it was necessary to perpetuate the spell and assured him this nightmare would soon be over, forever.
Sunday, October 30. For the first time in many years Aaron Branson attended Mass at the Sleepy Hollow Catholic Church and even went to confession. Bathsheba joined him. Yesterday had been uneventful as far as reports of the Headless Horseman was concerned. The rest of the day went smoothly as if nothing unusual had ever happened, except the dream that woke Sheba this morning. At midnight tomorrow night, however, either the curse of the Headless Horseman would end or his life would be over, of this Aaron was certain.
Monday, October 31, 11:45 p.m. They sat inside a pentagram Sheba had drawn near the site of the old bridge. "Whatever happens, do not step out of the circle," she cautioned him. They had reconstructed the skull they found and brought it with them. Aaron could feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Suddenly, he heard the thundering hoof beats of the ghostly steed. As the apparition pulled up at the edge of the circle, a second set of hooves could be heard.
The first rider had no head, no jack-o-lantern, but the second he observed that the head, which should have rested on his shoulders, was carried before him on the pommel of his saddle… a head which reminded him of the face he saw in the mirror everyday… his! Aaron almost screamed, but his throat was paralyzed with horror.
Sheba spoke more ancient words and then in English said, "Abraham van Brunt, you have paid a terrible price for your sins. Wilhelm Mueller, you, too, have paid for your wrong doings. Aaron Branson and I, Bathsheba Crane, are here to end this curse so that you both may finally rest in peace."
Both goblins stilled their steeds as if listening as she continued, "Wilhelm Mueller, you have taken a head which is not your own. Return it in exchange for the one you lost." Sheba held up the restored skull. "Return the head of Bram Bones or I will destroy this thing you both shall ride in Hell together."
The Hessian took the head from his saddle and made to throw it toward Bram Bones as Sheba hurled the one she held toward him. Both apparitions caught their heads simultaneously and placed them upon their shoulders. The 'flesh' returned to the skull of the Hessian. Both men looked at her with remorse and gratitude, then both bolted toward the old bridge and vanished in a flash of fire.
Bathsheba remained in Sleepy Hollow and eventually married Aaron Bronson. A few months later she gave birth to twins, which they named Abraham, and William.