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The Legend of Sleepy Hollow: Ichabod
However, it was not only these phantoms of the night that disturbed his peace, for his days were haunted by the most bewitching of all witches--a woman. In his weekly singing class was Katrina Van Tassel, only child of a substantial farmer. Famed for her beauty and vast expectations, the enraptured Ichabod became her ardent suitor.
Gloatingly he surveyed her father's rich meadowlands, the overflowing barns, and the great, sloping-roofed farm-house filled with treasure of old mahogany, pewter, and silver. All these rich possessions made Ichabod covet the peerless Katrina.
The most formidable of his many rivals was the roistering Brom Van Brunt, nicknamed, from his Herculean frame, Brom Bones.
He was the hero of all the country round, which rang with his feats of strength and hardihood. A reckless horseman and foremost in all rural sports, he was always ready for a fight or a frolic.
Yet even the old dames, startled out of their sleep as he clattered by at midnight, looked upon his wild pranks with more goodwill than disfavor. This rantipole hero had chosen to lay seige to the blooming Katrina. And when on a Sunday night his horse was tied to Van Tassel's palings all the suitors passed on in dispair.
Ichabod, however, in his role of singing-master, made frequent visits at the farm. Neither old Van Tassel, an easy, indulgent soul, nor his busy housewife interfered with the pedagogue's suit; yet his wooing was beset with difficulties.
Brom Bones had declared a deadly feud, and as Ichabod shrewdly avoided a physical combat, he became the object of whimsical persecutions by Brom and his boon companions.
They smoked out his singing school, broke into and turned topsy-turvy his schoolhouse, and, still worse, taught a scoundrel dog to whine as a rival instructor in psalmody to the fair Katrina.
One fine autumnal afternoon Ichabod, in a pensive mood, sat enthroned on the lofty stool from which he ruled his laggard pupils.
The buzzing stillness of the schoolroom was broken by a galloping messenger, who brought an invitation to a "quilting frolic" that evening at Van Tassel's. Promptly dismissing school, Ichabod furbished up his only suit of rusty black, and soon rode forth--a gallant cavalier to this bidding of his lady fair. Gunpowder, the bony old plow-horse, borrowed from the farmer with whom Ichabod was domiciled, was a suitable steed for his long, gaunt frame. Jogging slowly along, it was after sundown when he reached Van Tassel's, where were gathered the farmer folk of the surrounding country. However, it was not the buxom lasses which held Ichabod enthralled; it was the sumptuous abundance of the supper-table. Such luscious ham and chicken, and heaping platters of doughnuts, crullers, and ginger cakes! Ichabod's rapacious appetite did ample justice to this repast, while he gloated over the opulence of which some day he might be master. Soon the sound of fiddling bade all to the dance. With Katrina as his partner, smiling graciously at his amorous oglings, the lank but agile Ichabod clattered triumphantly about, while Brom Bones, sorely smitten with jealousy, kept brooding aloof.
Later, Ichabod joined the sager folk, who sat smoking and spinning tales of ghosts and apparitions, and of the headless horseman that nightly tethered his steed among the churchyard graves.
Most terrifying were the adventures of those who, on dark nights, had met that gruesome specter. Even Brom Bones testified that once, overtaken by the midnight trooper, he had raced with him to the church bridge, where the horseman had vanished in a flash on fire.
When at a late hour the revel broke up Ichabod lingered for the customary lovers' talk. What passed at that interview with the heiress was never known, but when he finally sallied forth it was with a dejected, chopfallen air. Had Katrina's encouragement been only a coquettish trick to secure her conquest of his rival?
It was near the witching midnight hour that the crestfallen Ichabod pursued his solitary travel homeward. All the stories of ghosts and goblins told that evening now crowded hauntingly upon him.
The night grew deeper and darker as he approached the lonely churchyard--sombrous scene of many of the tales. Suddenly through the leaf-stirred stillness came the clatter of hoofs! Something huge and misshapen loomed above the crouching shadows.