In the final years of the 18th century, what we now know today as Gotham City was called Gotham Hollow. Gotham at that time could not really have properly been called a city anyway, for its population was few and far between. Those that did live there were mostly farmers and simple folk, people who tilled the soil and engaged with the land, and had therefore a kind of reverent respect for nature, which in our modern days we have mostly lost. This respect was not only worshipful, but also fearful, for nature could destroy a family or a farm on a whim – send a frost or a plague so that its inhabitants would starve or suffer a death far worse. This fear of nature also extended to the supernatural, for those more in touch with the roots of this world are aware of what strange and wondrous magic their ancestors believed in, and honored. And even as time progressed, the folk in Gotham Hollow were not so arrogant as to dismiss the wisdom of their ancestors. They passed down the local legends and superstitions through the generations, and there was not a man, woman, or child among them who did not believe wholeheartedly in them.
That changed one day when a stranger came to Gotham Hollow. Jonathan Crane had been hired as the local schoolmaster, to teach the children of Gotham the basics of education, and as an educated man, he did not believe in superstitions. But Gotham Hollow was going to change his mind.
He dismounted from his horse, looking around at the sleepy little village, for that was what Gotham was in those days. It was a chilly afternoon in October, and the frost gleamed brightly in the cold, autumn sun as he looked upon the ramshackle schoolhouse that was now his home.
He noticed a note had been pinned to the door, and read it:
Mr. Crane,
When you have recovered from your long journey and settled into the schoolhouse, please do me the honor of paying a visit to my residence, Arkham Farm. I take a particular interest in all the citizens of Gotham, and would like to give you an introduction to the town. Mine is the largest farmhouse on the western outskirts of the village – just follow the main road and you will find it just before you reach the forest. My daughter and I are looking forward to meeting you.
Regards,
Jervis Van Tetch
Jervis Van Tetch was the man who had written to Crane offering him the post of schoolmaster – Crane could only assume that its wealthiest resident also acted as a kind of town leader and welcoming committee.
He opened the door to the schoolhouse to see a cozy if small interior – not hugely well-equipped, but that was only to be expected in a rural location like this. Still, it was comfortable enough, and warm enough, which was the important thing. He brought his limited possessions inside, and then mounted his horse again, heading out onto the main road, and indeed, the only road in Gotham.
At the end of the road was a giant farmhouse – Van Tetch must be a wealthy man indeed, thought Crane, as he dismounted in front of it and knocked on the door. It was answered by a woman dressed in servant's garb.
"Good day, Madam, I'm Jonathan Crane, the new schoolmaster," said Crane, removing his hat. "Mr. Van Tetch requested I visit."
"Of course, welcome to Gotham Hollow, Mr. Crane," said the woman, smiling at him and beckoning him inside. "I'm Mistress Leland, Mr. Van Tetch's housekeeper. Let me show you to the parlor – Mr. Van Tetch is expecting you."
She led Crane to a huge room with a roaring fire and comfortable armchairs. Seated in one of these was a small man dressed in finery, who smoked on a hookah and beamed warmly at him.
"Come in, Mr. Crane, please come in and warm yourself by the fire," he said, beckoning him over.
"Thank you very much," said Crane, taking the armchair opposite Van Tetch. "It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Van Tetch."
"You look frozen – not used to the cold weather we get here, I suspect," continued Van Tetch. "Well, you'll need to get used to it soon enough. Take it from me, the best way to endure it is with a roaring fire, a smoke, and a hot beverage. Mistress Leland, kindly bring our guest some tea."
She bowed and left them. "Mistress Leland is a treasure – she runs a most efficient household here," said Van Tetch. "Such skills are beyond me, I'm afraid. I was left unable to manage both the house and the farm after the death of my beloved wife Alice."
"I'm very sorry…" began Crane.
"I thank you, but it was many years ago," interrupted Van Tetch. "A fever took her when my daughter was but a baby, and she is eighteen years old now, which is difficult for me to believe. The sorrow of Alice's passing is always there, of course, but I look back on our time together with fond memories more than anything else. And Mistress Leland has been such a comfort, and a surrogate mother to my daughter. We are very lucky," he added, as Mistress Leland returned with a tea tray, and poured two cups for them both.
"Thank you very much, my dear," said Van Tetch, and Mistress Leland bowed and left. "Melts away the chill of the season, does it not?" asked Van Tetch, turning to Crane as he drank the tea.
"It does," agreed Crane. "Thank you, both for your hospitality, and for my employment."
"I consider it my duty, as the town's most prosperous citizen, to lead the community and give back to its residents where I can," said Van Tetch, sipping his tea. "The most effective way to do that is, I believe, to ensure that the populace is as educated as possible. It is only through the power of knowledge that Gotham can progress, and indeed, survive."
"I agree," said Crane, nodding. "And I'm hopeful that the children will too, although I've yet to meet a child who is particularly enthusiastic about formal education."
"I know my daughter wasn't," said Van Tetch. "But it's my fault for spoiling her and giving in to her every whim. She never did like people telling her what to do. And I could never be stern with her, or refuse the child anything – she just resembles so much my dear, departed wife, God rest her soul."
"Will your daughter be joining us soon?" asked Crane.
"Yes, she should be here now," said Van Tetch, looking around and frowning. "She keeps disappearing these days, and I wish she wouldn't. It's not safe…"
He realized what he had said, and suddenly silenced. "Not safe?" repeated Crane. "Is there some danger here?"
Van Tetch sipped his tea. "We will speak of it later," he said, forcing a smile. "No need to darken the atmosphere when you've only just arrived. We should talk of happier things, like shoes and ships and sealing wax, and cabbages and kings, and why the sea is boiling hot, and whether pigs have wings."
Crane didn't know how to respond to that, so he didn't, but he noticed Van Tetch's hand shaking as he held the teacup, and couldn't help but sense his nervousness.
The door opened and someone strode into the room. "Harley, there you are!" exclaimed Van Tetch. "We were just talking about you! This is Mr. Crane, the new schoolmaster. Jonathan Crane, my daughter, Harleen Van Tetch."
Crane stared at the woman who had entered - he had never seen anyone so beautiful in all his life. She was a petite young woman, small and slender, with wide blue eyes and long blonde hair done up in pigtails. She beamed at Crane and held out her hand. "Call me Harley – everyone does," she said.
"Harley," stammered Crane, kissing her hand as he continued to stare at her. "It's an…absolute pleasure."
"Harley is my only child, and heir to my entire estate," said Van Tetch. "In the event that something happens to me, this will all be hers," he said, gesturing around.
"Now Father, what could happen to you?" laughed Harley, hugging him tightly. "I told you to stop talking like that – you scare me, and I don't like being scared!"
"I don't think anyone does, my dear, but we must be practical," said Van Tetch. "I want as many people as possible to know my wishes in the event of…unforeseen circumstances. Of course I've made a will, but such things are not always honored in places where many people are ignorant of the law. That's why I'm so pleased we have Mr. Crane here to educate the citizens – I am hopeful that together, we will be able to drag this town kicking and screaming into the 19th century."
"Are you implying that you have many criminals here, Mr. Van Tetch?" asked Crane, surprised. "Gotham Hollow seems a very peaceful place to me, almost dream-like, but then of course I don't know much about it."
"It is dream-like," agreed Van Tetch. "A drowsy, dreamy influence seems to hang over the land, and to pervade the very atmosphere. Some say that the place was bewitched by an old Indian chief when the settlers first came to the valley. Whatever the truth, the town still continues under the sway of some witching power, that holds a spell over the minds of the good people. They are given to all kinds of marvellous beliefs, are subject to trances and visions, and frequently see strange sights, and hear music and voices in the air. The whole neighborhood abounds with local tales, haunted spots, and twilight superstitions."
"I'm afraid I'm more of a skeptic than your average man, Mr. Van Tetch," replied Crane. "I don't really believe in superstitions of any kind."
Van Tetch smiled grimly at him. "I believe you will soon, Mr. Crane," he murmured. "Indeed, we in Gotham Hollow have more than our fair share of…odd folk, shall we say. There is one in particular who…stalks the night, frightening the townspeople and…worse…"
"Father, don't speak of him," said Harley, nervously. "You'll bring him down on us."
Crane looked from one to the other of them. "Forgive me, as a stranger here I don't quite understand what you mean. If you have a criminal lurking in the town, he must be apprehended."
"That might be rather difficult," said Van Tetch. "It's not an…ordinary criminal."
"Well, no matter how cunning, the man must be brought to justice," replied Crane.
"It's not a man," said Van Tetch, quietly.
"Woman, then," corrected Crane.
"Not that either," murmured Van Tetch. "He…was a man. But now he's…"
He trailed off, and Crane stared at him. "He's what?" he demanded.
Van Tetch opened his mouth to respond, when a man suddenly crashed through the roof of the farmhouse onto the floor below. "Confound it all, J, what the devil do you think you're doing?" demanded Van Tetch, who had seized Harley and pulled her out of the way of the falling man.
"I was up there trying to replace the thatch, but that roof is slipperier than I thought," retorted the man, picking himself up and dusting himself off. He was a very odd-looking man – deathly pale with bright, grinning red lips and wild green hair. "Hope I didn't hit anyone on the way down."
"You nearly landed on Harley!" snapped Van Tetch.
"I gotta apologize to her personally then," said the man, smiling at Harley as he kissed her hand. "I'm truly very sorry for frightening you, Miss Van Tetch."
"That's quite all right, Mr. J," she murmured, smiling shyly back at him.
"This is J – he works on the farm as a handyman, stablehand, sort of a jack-of-all-trades," explained Van Tetch, gesturing to the man. "J, meet Mr. Crane, the new schoolteacher."
"Oh great, a teacher!" exclaimed J, beaming. "Never cared much for school myself, but I guess kiddies need to learn the basics. Maybe a smart guy like him can help with our little Bat-problem."
"I'm not an exterminator, Mr. J," retorted Crane.
"That's good, because he ain't a rodent," replied J, grinning at him.
"Yes, we were just explaining about that before you crashed in," muttered Van Tetch. "Literally," he added, glancing up at the hole in the roof. He sighed, and then rang a bell by his chair. "Well, you must recover from your accident with a cup of tea before you head up there to repair that hole, J. Here, my dear, take a seat and a blanket," he said, handing a cover to Harley. "We don't want you catching cold."
Harley obeyed, sitting down next to the fire, and J took the seat next to her as Mistress Leland brought in some more cups of tea for them. "Now to explain…about the Bat," said Van Tetch slowly, when Mistress Leland had departed. "I don't suppose you know that this area was the site of several battles during the Revolutionary War?"
"I didn't," replied Crane. "But it explains why the population is so superstitious, to be constantly surrounded by reminders of death."
"Yes, the ground is soaked with the blood of many men," murmured Van Tetch. "It's quite ghastly to think about."
Harley shivered, moving closer to the fire. Crane thought he saw J's hand slip under the blanket to take hers, but his attention was drawn back to Van Tetch as he continued, "There was a Hessian mercenary who fought for the British. Nobody knows now what his name was, but he was a fierce and ruthless warrior. Money was most Hessians' incentive for fighting, but he had another – he believed himself to be a crusader for justice, and believed the Americans deserved to be punished for their treachery against the crown of England. In his fanatical mind, no horrible violence was inexcusable, for he was doing it all for a cause he believed was right, which made him far more dangerous than those of his countrymen who fought purely for gold. He wore a black cape which spread out about him like batwings, and a helmet crafted into the shape of a bat. And because of that, he was called the Batman."
Van Tetch sipped his tea. "He was killed during a battle not far from here – his head was blown off with a cannonball. It is said his head was never found, and he was buried without it. And so because of that…he is a restless spirit. He rides through Gotham Hollow nightly, seeking his head…or one to replace it."
Crane stared at him. "You think…a ghost rides through the Hollow every night?"
"Ghost implies something shapeless and flimsy," spoke up J. "But this thing has a solid body that can do real harm, trust me. The times I've gone up against him, I was lucky to get away with my head, let me tell you. Well, lucky and also incredibly skilled. Had to ride hard to get to the bridge across Gotham Brook, but once you cross that, his power ends."
"Believe me, I would like to dismiss the legend as a silly superstition without substance," said Van Tetch. "But there have been too many…accidents."
"Accidents?" repeated Crane.
"People…bodies…found headless," murmured Van Tetch. "And whose heads have never been found."
"But that could be the work of a mortal, a maniac, not necessarily a ghost," replied Crane.
Van Tetch looked up at him. "You'll see him too before long," he murmured. "Then you'll know, as we all do. The Headless Batman haunts Gotham Hollow, and he will never leave it. But we have learned to live with him, and if you take the precautions we all do, you will be safe from him. It is always more difficult as the winter comes on, and the nights come earlier, as everyone must be home before sunset. Only a fool would go outside after dark, for that is when he rides abroad, hunting for his head."
The fire crackled in the grate, startling Crane. He cleared his throat. "Well, that's a very…interesting story," he said, slowly.
"I understand you not wanting to believe it," replied Van Tetch. "But it is the truth, I swear on my life, on the soul of my dear, departed Alice. The Headless Batman is very real."
"It's true," agreed Harley, nodding. "You can hear him outside at night, his horse galloping up and down the road. You can see his shadow, the spread batwings of his cape…"
She shivered again. "That hole in the roof is chilling Harley – please go fix it if you've recovered, J," said Van Tetch.
J nodded, heading out the door. "You must stay for dinner, of course, Mr. Crane," said Van Tetch, glancing at the clock. "If we eat now, there should be time for you to make it home before dark, although of course you must stay over if you cannot…"
"Thank you," interrupted Crane. "I would love to stay for dinner, but I will be departing afterward."
Van Tetch said nothing, ringing the bell again. Harley just looked into the fire, continuing to shiver.
Van Tetch changed the subject of conversation to merrier topics over dinner, and with his and Harley's excellent company and Mistress Leland's excellent food, Crane had almost forgotten all about the Headless Batman story. Harley finished her dinner and then excused herself, leaving Crane and Van Tetch to their tea. As twilight approached, Crane saw Van Tetch growing anxious again, and despite Van Tetch's repeated offer that he stay, Crane insisted on returning home – he promised Van Tetch that the schoolhouse was not so far away as to keep him out after dark. Besides, Crane was determined not to let fear rule him – he was a man of science, not superstition, and he didn't believe in any Headless Batman.
Crane said his goodbyes to Van Tetch, and then headed for the stable to fetch his horse. He was surprised to hear noises coming from inside – giggling and whispering. He could just barely make out the words, "Glad I missed crashing down on top of you earlier, toots, although you've never objected to me being on top of you before," followed by another giggle.
Crane entered the stable and was shocked to see two people entwined in a passionate embrace on the straw. Two people he recognized.
"Oh…Mr. Crane!" stammered Harley, noticing him and starting up, blushing bright red. "I thought you were…staying the night."
"You didn't see anything, did you?" demanded J, rounding on him as he smoothed back his hair.
"I believe I saw more than enough," retorted Crane, dryly. "Does your father know about your liaison with the stablehand, Miss Van Tetch?"
"No, he does not!" snapped J. "And you're not gonna tell him, or I'm gonna kill you before the Headless Batman gets a chance to!"
"Please, Mr. Crane, he wouldn't understand," pleaded Harley. "He would fire Mr. J and forbid us from ever seeing each other again, and I would die of heartbreak without him! I love him! But Father would think that Mr. J's just wanting to get his hands on Arkham Farm…"
"And how do you know he isn't?" interrupted Crane. "This is a very valuable piece of property, and unscrupulous men would do anything for money, even pretend to be in love to trick an innocent girl into marriage."
"Maybe you would, pal," retorted J. "But don't project your own motives on to me. I don't care about money or property, or marriage for that matter. All I care about is having a little fun, and Harley is definitely that," he chuckled, kissing her cheek.
"Please, Mr. Crane, you'll keep our secret, won't you?" begged Harley, her wide blue eyes gazing pleadingly at him.
Crane sighed heavily. "I have no reason not to," he agreed. "The only harm you're risking is to yourself and your own heart, but if I were you, I wouldn't trust that man with it," he muttered, glaring at J as he reached for his horse's bridle.
"Always nice to be hated for no reason," commented J. "Hope you get safely home before dark, Mr. Crane," he said, insincerely.
Crane rolled his eyes as he mounted his horse and headed onto the road, the rays of the setting sun glowing brightly behind him. "Headless Batman of Gotham Hollow," he muttered. "What utter nonsense."