The schoolmaster is generally a man of some importance in the female circle of a rural neighborhood; being considered a kind
of idle gentlemanlike personage, of vastly superior taste and accomplishments to the rough country swains, and, indeed, inferior
in learning only to the parson. His appearance, therefore, is apt to occasion some little stir at the tea-table of a farmhouse,
and the addition of a supernumerary dish of cakes or sweetmeats, or, peradventure, the parade of a silver tea-pot. Our man
of letters, therefore, was peculiarly happy in the smiles of all the country damsels. How he would figure among them in the
church-yard, between services on Sundays! gathering grapes for them from the wild vines that overrun the surrounding trees;
reciting for their amusement all the epitaphs on the tombstones; or sauntering, with a whole bevy of them, along the banks
of the adjacent mill-pond; while the more bashful country bumpkins hung sheepishly back, envying his superior elegance and
From his half itinerant life, also, he was a kind of travelling gazette, carrying the whole budget of local gossip from
house to house; so that his appearance was always greeted with satisfaction. He was, moreover, esteemed by the women as a
man of great erudition, for he had read several books quite through, and was a perfect master of Cotton Mather's history of
New England Witchcraft, in which, by the way, he most firmly and potently believed.
He was, in fact, an odd mixture of small shrewdness and simple credulity. His appetite for the marvellous, and his powers
of digesting it, were equally extraordinary; and both had been increased by his residence in this spellbound region. No tale
was too gross or monstrous for his capacious swallow. It was often his delight, after his school was dismissed in the afternoon,
to stretch himself on the rich bed of clover, bordering the little brook that whimpered by his school-house, and there con
over old Mather's direful tales, until the gathering dusk of the evening made the printed page a mere mist before his eyes.
Then, as he wended his way, by swamp and stream and awful woodland, to the farmhouse where he happened to be quartered, every
sound of nature, at that witching hour, fluttered his excited imagination: the moan of the whip-poor-will from the hillside;
the boding cry of the tree-toad, that harbinger of storm; the dreary hooting of the screech-owl, or the sudden rustling in
the thicket of birds frightened from their roost. The fire-flies, too, which sparkled most vividly in the darkest places,
now and then startled him, as one of uncommon brightness would stream across his path; and if, by chance, a huge blockhead
of a beetle came winging his blundering flight against him, the poor varlet was ready to give up the ghost, with the idea
that he was struck with a witch's token. His only resource on such occasions, either to drown thought, or drive away evil
spirits, was to sing psalm tunes;- and the good people of Sleepy Hollow, as they sat by their doors of an evening, were often
filled with awe, at hearing his nasal melody, "in linked sweetness long drawn out," floating from the distant hill, or along
the dusky road.
Another of his sources of fearful pleasure was, to pass long winter evenings with the old Dutch wives, as they sat spinning
by the fire, with a row of apples roasting and spluttering along the hearth, and listen to their marvellous tales of ghosts
and goblins, and haunted fields, and haunted brooks, and haunted bridges, and haunted houses, and particularly of the headless
horseman, or galloping Hessian of the Hollow, as they sometimes called him. He would delight them equally by his anecdotes
of witchcraft, and of the direful omens and portentous sights and sounds in the air, which prevailed in the earlier times
of Connecticut; and would frighten them woefully with speculations upon comets and shooting stars; and with the alarming fact
that the world did absolutely turn round, and that they were half the time topsy-turvy!
But if there was a pleasure in all this, while snugly cuddling in the chimney corner of a chamber that was all of a ruddy
glow from the crackling wood fire, and where, of course, no spectre dared to show his face, it was dearly purchased by the
terrors of his subsequent walk homewards. What fearful shapes and shadows beset his path amidst the dim and ghastly glare
of a snowy night!- With what wistful look did he eye every trembling ray of light streaming across the waste fields from some
distant window!- How often was he appalled by some shrub covered with snow, which, like a sheeted spectre, beset his very
path!- 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!
All these, however, were mere terrors of the night, phantoms of the mind that walk in darkness; and though he had seen
many spectres in his time, and been more than once beset by Satan in divers shapes, in his lonely perambulations, yet daylight
put an end to all these evils; and he would have passed a pleasant life of it, in despite of the devil and all his works,
if his path had not been crossed by a being that causes more perplexity to mortal man than ghosts, goblins, and the whole
race of witches put together, and that was- a woman.
Among the musical disciples who assembled, one evening in each week, to receive his instructions in psalmody, was Katrina
Van Tassel, the daughter and only child of a substantial Dutch farmer. She was a blooming lass of fresh eighteen; plump as
a partridge; ripe and melting and rosy cheeked as one of her father's peaches, and universally famed, not merely for her beauty,
but her vast expectations. She was withal a little of a coquette, as might be perceived even in her dress, which was a mixture
of ancient and modern fashions, as most suited to set off her charms. She wore the ornaments of pure yellow gold, which her
great-great-grandmother had brought over from Saardam; the tempting stomacher of the olden time; and withal a provokingly
short petticoat, to display the prettiest foot and ankle in the country round.
Ichabod Crane had a soft and foolish heart towards the sex; and it is not to be wondered at, that so tempting a morsel
soon found favor in his eyes; more especially after he had visited her in her paternal mansion. Old Baltus Van Tassel was
a perfect picture of a thriving, contented, liberal-hearted farmer. He seldom, it is true, sent either his eyes or his thoughts
beyond the boundaries of his own farm; but within those every thing was snug, happy, and well-conditioned. He was satisfied
with his wealth, but not proud of it; and piqued himself upon the hearty abundance, rather than the style in which he lived.-
His stronghold was situated on the banks of the Hudson, in one of those green, sheltered, fertile nooks in which the Dutch
farmers are so fond of nestling. A great elm-tree spread its broad branches over it; at the foot of which bubbled up a spring
of the softest and sweetest water, in a little well, formed of a barrel; and then stole sparkling away through the grass,
to a neighboring brook, that bubbled along among alders and dwarf willows. Hard by the farm-house was a vast barn, that might
have served for a church; every window and crevice of which seemed bursting forth with the treasures of the farm; the flail
was busily resounding within it from morning to night; swallows and martins skimmed twittering about the eaves; and rows of
pigeons, some with one eye turned up, as if watching the weather, some with their heads under their wings, or buried in their
bosoms, and others swelling, and cooing, and bowing about their dames, were enjoying the sunshine on the roof. Sleek unwieldy
porkers were grunting in the repose and abundance of their pens; whence sallied forth, now and then, troops of sucking pigs,
as if to snuff the air. A stately squadron of snowy geese were riding in an adjoining pond, convoying whole fleets of ducks;
regiments of turkeys were gobbling through the farm-yard, and guinea fowls fretting about it, like ill-tempered housewives,
with their peevish discontented cry. Before the barn door strutted the gallant cock, that pattern of a husband, a warrior,
and a fine gentleman, clapping his burnished wings, and crowing in the pride and gladness of his heart- sometimes tearing
up the earth with his feet, and then generously calling his ever-hungry family of wives and children to enjoy the rich morsel
which he had discovered.
The pedagogue's mouth watered, as he looked upon this sumptuous promise of luxurious winter fare. In his devouring mind's
eye, he pictured to himself every roasting-pig running about with a pudding in his belly, and an apple in his mouth; the pigeons
were snugly put to bed in a comfortable pie, and tucked in with a coverlet of crust; the geese were swimming in their own
gravy; and the ducks pairing cosily in dishes, like snug married couples, with a decent competency of onion sauce. In the
porkers he saw carved out the future sleek side of bacon, and juicy relishing ham; not a turkey but he beheld daintily trussed
up, with its gizzard under its wing, and, peradventure, a necklace of savory sausages; and even bright chanticleer himself
lay sprawling on his back, in a side-dish, with uplifted claws, as if craving that quarter which his chivalrous spirit disdained
to ask while living.
As the enraptured Ichabod fancied all this, and as he rolled his great green eyes over the fat meadow-lands, the rich fields
of wheat, of rye, of buckwheat, and Indian corn, and the orchards burdened with ruddy fruit, which surrounded the warm tenement
of Van Tassel, his heart yearned after the damsel who was to inherit these domains, and his imagination expanded with the
idea, how they might be readily turned into cash, and the money invested in immense tracts of wild land, and shingle palaces
in the wilderness. Nay, his busy fancy already realized his hopes, and presented to him the blooming Katrina, with a whole
family of children, mounted on the top of a wagon loaded with household trumpery, with pots and kettles dangling beneath;
and he beheld himself bestriding a pacing mare, with a colt at her heels, setting out for Kentucky, Tennessee, or the Lord
When he entered the house the conquest of his heart was complete. It was one of those spacious farmhouses, with high-ridged,
but lowly-sloping roofs, built in the style handed down from the first Dutch settlers; the low projecting eaves forming a
piazza along the front, capable of being closed up in bad weather. Under this were hung flails, harness, various utensils
of husbandry, and nets for fishing in the neighboring river. Benches were built along the sides for summer use; and a great
spinning-wheel at one end, and a churn at the other, showed the various uses to which this important porch might be devoted.
From this piazza the wondering Ichabod entered the hall, which formed the centre of the mansion and the place of usual residence.
Here, rows of resplendent pewter, ranged on a long dresser, dazzled his eyes. In one corner stood a huge bag of wool ready
to be spun; in another a quantity of linsey-woolsey just from the loom; ears of Indian corn, and strings of dried apples and
peaches, hung in gay festoons along the walls, mingled with the gaud of red peppers; and a door left ajar gave him a peep
into the best parlor, where the claw-footed chairs, and dark mahogany tables, shone like mirrors; andirons, with their accompanying
shovel and tongs, glistened from their covert of asparagus tops; mock-oranges and conch-shells decorated the mantel-piece;
strings of various colored birds' eggs were suspended above it: a great ostrich egg was hung from the centre of the room,
and a corner cupboard, knowingly left open, displayed immense treasures of old silver and well-mended china.
From the moment Ichabod laid his eyes upon these regions of delight, the peace of his mind was at an end, and his only
study was how to gain the affections of the peerless daughter of Van Tassel. In this enterprise, however, he had more real
difficulties than generally fell to the lot of a knight-errant of yore, who seldom had any thing but giants, enchanters, fiery
dragons, and such like easily-conquered adversaries, to contend with; and had to make his way merely through gates of iron
and brass, and walls of adamant, to the castle keep, where the lady of his heart was confined; all which he achieved as easily
as a man would carve his way to the centre of a Christmas pie; and then the lady gave him her hand as a matter of course.
Ichabod, on the contrary, had to win his way to the heart of a country coquette, beset with a labyrinth of whims and caprices,
which were for ever presenting new difficulties and impediments; and he had to encounter a host of fearful adversaries of
real flesh and blood, the numerous rustic admirers, who beset every portal to her heart; keeping a watchful and angry eye
upon each other, but ready to fly out in the common cause against any new competitor.
Among these the most formidable was a burly, roaring, roystering blade, of the name of Abraham, or, according to the Dutch
abbreviation, Brom Van Brunt, the hero of the country round, which rang with his feats of strength and hardihood. He 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. From his Herculean frame and great powers of limb, he had received the nickname of Brom Bones, by which he
was universally known. He was famed for great knowledge and skill in horsemanship, being as dexterous on horseback as a Tartar.
He was foremost at all races and cock-fights; and, with the ascendancy which bodily strength acquires in rustic life, was
the umpire in all disputes, setting his hat on one side, and giving his decisions with an air and tone admitting of no gainsay
or appeal. He was always ready for either a fight or a frolic; but had more mischief than ill-will in his composition; and,
with all his overbearing roughness, there was a strong dash of waggish good humor at bottom. He had three or four boon companions,
who regarded him as their model, and at the head of whom he scoured the country, attending every scene of feud or merriment
for miles round. In cold weather he was distinguished by a fur cap, surmounted with a flaunting fox's tail; and when the folks
at a country gathering descried this well-known crest at a distance, whisking about among a squad of hard riders, they always
stood by for a squall. Sometimes his crew would be heard dashing along past the farmhouses at midnight, with whoop and halloo,
like a troop of Don Cossacks; and the old dames, startled out of their sleep, would listen for a moment till the hurry-scurry
had clattered by, and then exclaim, "Ay, there goes Brom Bones and his gang!" The neighbors looked upon him with a mixture
of awe, admiration, and good will; and when any madcap prank, or rustic brawl, occurred in the vicinity, always shook their
heads, and warranted Brom Bones was at the bottom of it.
This rantipole hero had for some time singled out the blooming Katrina for the object of his uncouth gallantries, and though
his amorous toyings were something like the gentle caresses and endearments of a bear, yet it was whispered that she did not
altogether discourage his hopes. Certain it is, his advances were signals for rival candidates to retire, who felt no inclination
to cross a lion in his amours; insomuch, that when his horse was seen tied to Van Tassel's paling, on a Sunday night, a sure
sign that his master was courting, or, as it is termed, "sparking," within, all other suitors passed by in despair, and carried
the war into other quarters.
Such was the formidable rival with whom Ichabod Crane had to contend, and, considering all things, a stouter man than he
would have shrunk from the competition, and a wiser man would have despaired. He had, however, a happy mixture of pliability
and perseverance in his nature; he was in form and spirit like a supple-jack- yielding, but tough; though he bent, he never
broke; and though he bowed beneath the slightest pressure, yet, the moment it was away- jerk! he was as erect, and carried
his head as high as ever.
To have taken the field openly against his rival would have been madness; for he was not a man
to be thwarted in his amours, any more than that stormy lover, Achilles. Ichabod, therefore, made his advances in a quiet
and gently-insinuating manner. Under cover of his character of singing-master, he made frequent visits at the farmhouse; not
that he had any thing to apprehend from the meddlesome interference of parents, which is so often a stumbling-block in the
path of lovers. Balt Van Tassel was an easy indulgent soul; he loved his daughter better even than his pipe, and, like a reasonable
man and an excellent father, let her have her way in everything. His notable little wife, too, had enough to do to attend
to her housekeeping and manage her poultry; for, as she sagely observed, ducks and geese are foolish things, and must be looked
after, but girls can take care of themselves. Thus while the busy dame bustled about the house, or plied her spinning-wheel
at one end of the piazza, honest Balt would sit smoking his evening pipe at the other, watching the achievements of a little
wooden warrior, who, armed with a sword in each hand, was most valiantly fighting the wind on the pinnacle of the barn. In
the meantime, Ichabod would carry on his suit with the daughter by the side of the spring under the great elm, or sauntering
along in the twilight, that hour so favorable to the lover's eloquence.
I profess not to know how women's hearts are wooed and won. To me they have always been matters of riddle and admiration.
Some seem to have but one vulnerable point, or door of access; while others have a thousand avenues, and may be captured in
a thousand different ways. It is a great triumph of skill to gain the former, but a still greater proof of generalship to
maintain possession of the latter, for the man must battle for his fortress at every door and window. He who wins a thousand
common hearts is therefore entitled to some renown; but he who keeps undisputed sway over the heart of a coquette, is indeed
a hero. Certain it is, this was not the case with the redoubtable Brom Bones; and from the moment Ichabod Crane made his advances,
the interests of the former evidently declined; his horse was no longer seen tied at the palings on Sunday nights, and a deadly
feud gradually arose between him and the preceptor of Sleepy Hollow.
Brom, who had a degree of rough chivalry in his nature, would fain have carried matters to open warfare, and have settled
their pretensions to the lady, according to the mode of those most concise and simple reasoners, the knights-errant of yore-
by single combat; but Ichabod was too conscious of the superior might of his adversary to enter the lists against him: he
had overheard a boast of Bones, that he would "double the schoolmaster up, and lay him on a shelf of his own school-house;"
and he was too wary to give him an opportunity. There was something extremely provoking in this obstinately pacific system;
it left Brom no alternative but to draw upon the funds of rustic waggery in his disposition, and to play off boorish practical
jokes upon his rival. Ichabod became the object of whimsical persecution to Bones, and his gang of rough riders. They harried
his hitherto peaceful domains; smoked out his singing school, by stopping up the chimney; broke into the school-house at night,
in spite of its formidable fastenings of withe and window stakes, and turned every thing topsy-turvy: so that the poor schoolmaster
began to think all the witches in the country held their meetings there. But what was still more annoying, Brom took all opportunities
of turning him into ridicule in presence of his mistress, and had a scoundrel dog whom he taught to whine in the most ludicrous
manner, and introduced as a rival of Ichabod's to instruct her in psalmody.