Bracebridge, The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, The Headless Horseman and the Alice Street Kids

"Indian Pipes". Photos by Suzanne Currie

The Most Delicious Pleasantness of the Kindred Spirit as Relates to Washington Irving and the Provenance That Comes With a Name

     It was at this time of the rolling year, as a scruffy ragamuffin growing up in Bracebridge, Ontario, that I was most open to the possibilities of a “Headless Horseman,” as I knew even then as being a part of my favorite story, “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.”

     Where I grew up in the blue collar part of town, in an apartment owned by Hilda and Wayne Weber, on the eastern end of Alice Street, there was a small acreage known as Bamford’s Woods, and the Sand Pit on the hillside above the three story old brick apartment where we lived in the late 1960’s. I used the reference to “old bricks,” because the owner / builder had reused the original bricks that had once been the facade of the original Bracebridge Public School on McMurray Street. After the Webers tore the school down, and constructed a facility, they hauled off the bricks for use in their new apartment construction. The hillside was also owned by the Webers, and although they didn’t really like the local kids playing up there, it was pretty much the case that they just gave in to our persistence. We just kept the peace so to speak, and played our hearts out, and largely stayed out of trouble in the neighborhood generally. Between Bamford’s Woods to the front of the apartment, and the sand pit, directly behind, it became our disjointed by more-than-adequate park, when the only other park for us Hunt’s Hill kids was at Jubilee Park about four blocks away in a hollow where we weren’t particularly welcome. So we didn’t mind staying close to home, and the open spaces of trees and hills and hollows worked well with our creative enterprises, and it became as magical a place as Sleepy Hollow itself.

     At this point, I knew of the Legend of Sleepy Hollow, but mostly because of the animated Disney film I had watched numerous times when the show aired on Sunday nights back then, just before we had our dinner. My mother Merle used to call Bracebridge “Sleepy Hollow,” but I know for fact she had no idea the town had actually been named after a book written by Washington Irving, who of course, created the famous Headless Horseman. At around this time of the year, bordering on what we always called the harvest season in our neighborhood, when the scent of canning permeated the cooler August clime, and we could walk down Alice Street and see window ledges with fresh baked pies cooling just beyond those enchanted kitchens where such good food was seemingly in constant preparation. We may or may not have swiped a few of those pies in our day, but not one of the old gang has ever confessed officially.

     After dinner on most nights this time of year, four or five of us adventurers, with childhood on our side, would head up the slope of the back hillside, and plan out our evening festivities; which often were in preparation for the arrival of ghosts, hobgoblins, and bandy legged wee beasties, or the headless horseman himself in pursuit of Ichabod Crane, the school teacher at Sleepy Hollow. As the sun set, the mysteries overlapped reality, and we gradually found ourselves in the high grasses, and small hollows, that afforded us a better vantage point, for the moment the powerful and evil steed came galloping down the slope where we were hunkered down. It was a truly engaging and wonderful time, and we were never shy of new adventures and the admiration of old folk tales, that would scare us half to death. But we loved it all, and it was where I first developed a keen interest in Washington Irving, and our own Sleepy Hollow; Bracebridge. I would write a book about this on the cusp of this new century, and have the important provenance in my archives ever since, to recall whenever I need a refresher, on what had occurred that August in 1864, when Postal Authority William Dawson LeSueur granted the name “Bracebridge,” for the hamlet’s new post office; the name taken from the Irving book, “Bracebridge Hall,” which with the earlier “Sketch Book” of 1819, invited the settlement to share a literary heritage with one of the world’s best known authors.

 IN THE WORDS OF WASHINGTON IRVING, AND WITH THE COVER OF THE BOOK OPENED TO THE PAGE, WHERE SOME OTHER READER LEFT OFF, IN THE LATE EVENING OF A PAST HALLOWEEN; WE RETURN TO SLEEPY HOLLOW, AND THE GOOD FOLKS' BELIEF IN THE APPARITION KNOWN, AS THE "HEADLESS HORSEMAN," THE HESSIAN TROOPER WHO HAD LOST HIS HEAD IN A REVOLUTIONARY WAR BATTLE....AND HAD BEEN BURIED WITHOUT, IN A CHURCHYARD PLOT.....WHERE IT IS SAID, HE RISES ON MOONLIT NIGHTS LIKE THIS, TO SEEK OUT WHAT RIGHTFULLY BELONGS TO HIM.

     IRVING'S CHARACTER, ICHABOD CRANE, THE NEW SCHOOL TEACHER TO THE VILLAGE OF SLEEPY HOLLOW, CARRIED AFFECTIONS FOR THE DAUGHTER OF ONE OF THE MOST PROMINENT MEN OF THE BUSINESS COMMUNITY, AND BY SHOWING HIS AFFECTIONS, HAD GOT UNCOMFORTABLY IN THE WAY, OF HER MORE AGGRESSIVE, CAPABLE ADMIRER, BROM BONES, WHO IT IS SAID, WOULD GO TO ANY LENGTH TO WIN THE SUBJECT OF HIS AFFECTIONS.....INCLUDING THE DISPATCHING OF THE PEDAGOGUE, THE WEAK KNEED, CLUMSY, ANNOYING, GREEDY, MR. CRANE. BUT DID THIS MANIFEST AS AN EFFORT BY A JEALOUS SUITOR, OR WAS THE HESSIAN A PARANORMAL A REAL FORCE OF THE SUPERNATURAL, TO BE RECKONED WITH?

     "IT WAS AS I HAVE SAID, A FINE AUTUMNAL DAY; THE SKY WAS CLEAR AND SERENE, AND NATURE WORE THAT RICH AND GOLD LIVERY WHICH WE ALWAYS ASSOCIATE WITH THE IDEA OF ABUNDANCE. THE FORESTS HAD PUT ON THEIR SOBER BROWN AND YELLOW, WHILE SOME TREES OF THE TENDERER KIND, HAD BEEN NIPPED BY THE FROSTS INTO BRILLIANT DYES OF ORANGE, PURPLE AND SCARLET. STREAMING FILES OF WILD DUCKS BEGAN TO MAKE THEIR APPEARANCE HIGH IN THE AIR; THE BARK OF THE SQUIRREL MIGHT BE HEARD FROM THE GROVES OF BEECH AND HICKORY-NUTS, AND THE PENSIVE WHISTLE OF THE QUAIL, AT INTERVALS FROM THE NEIGHBORING STUBBLE FIELD," WROTE IRVING.

     "THE SMALL BIRDS WERE TAKING THEIR FAREWELL BANQUETS. IN THE FULNESS OF THEIR REVELRY, THEY FLUTTERED CHIRPING AND FROLICKING FROM BUSH TO BUSH, AND TREE TO TREE, CAPRICIOUS FROM THE VERY PROFUSING AND VARIETY AROUND THEM. THERE WAS THE VERY HONEST COCK-ROBIN, THE FAVOURITE GAME OF STRIPLING SPORTSMEN, WITH ITS LOUD QUERILOUS NOTE, AND THE TWITTERING BLACKBIRDS FLYING IN SABLE CLOUDS; AND THE GOLDEN WINGED WOODPECKER, WITH HIS CRIMSON CREST, HIS BROAD BLACK GORGET, AND SPLENDID PLUMAGE; AND THE CEDAR-BIRD, WITH ITS RED-TIPT WINGS AND YELLOW-TIPT TAIL, AND HIS LITTLE MONTEIRO CAP OF FEATHERS; AND THE BLUE JAY, THAT NOISY COXCOMB, IN HIS GAY LIGHT BLUE COAT AND WHITE UNDERCLOTHES, SCREAMING AND CHATTERING, NODDING, AND BOBBING, AND BOWING, AND PRETENDING TO BE ON GOOD TERMS WITH EVERY SONGSTER OF THE GROVE.

     "AS ICHABOD JOGGED SLOWLY ON HIS WAY, HIS EYE, EVER OPEN TO EVERY SYMPTON OF CULINARY ABUNDANCE, RANGED WITH DELIGHT OVER THE TREASURES OF JOLLY AUTUMN. ON ALL SIDES HE BEHELD VAST STORE OF APPLES, SOME HANGING IN OPPRESSIVE OPULENCE ON THE TREES; SOME GATHERED INTO BASKETS AND BARRELS FOR THE MARKET; OTHERS HEAPED UP IN RICH PILES FOR THE CIDER-PRESS. FARTHER ON HE BEHELD GREAT FIELDS OF INDIAN CORN, WITH ITS GOLDEN EARS PEEPING FROM THEIR LEAFY COVERTS, AND HOLDING OUT THE PROMISE OF CAKES AND HASTY-PUDDING; AND THE YELLOW PUMPKINS LYING BENEATH THEM, TURNING UP THEIR FAIR ROUND BELLIES TO THE SUN, AND GIVING AMPLE PROSPECTS OF THE MOST LUXURIOUS OF PIES; AND ANON, HE PASSED THE FRAGRANT BUCKWHEAT FIELDS, BREATHING THE ODOUR OF THE BEEHIVE, AND HE BEHELD THEM, SOFT ANTICIPATIONS STOLE HIS MIND OF DAINTY SLAP-JACKS, WELL BUTTERED AND GARNISHED WITH HONEY OR TREACLE, BY THE DELICATE LITTLE DIMPLED HAND OF KATRINA VAN TASSEL (THE GIRL HE WISHED WOULD RETURN HIS AFFECTIONS)."

     WASHINGTON IRVING, AT HIS DESK, WRITES OF CRANE, "THUS FEEDING HIS MIND WITH MANY SWEET THOUGHTS AND SUGARED SUPPOSITIONS, HE JOURNEYED ALONG THE SIDES OF THE RANGE OF HILLS, WHICH LOOK OUT UPON SOME OF THE GOODLIEST SCENES OF THE MIGHTY HUDSON. THE SUN GRADUALLY WHEELED HIS BROAD DISK DOWN INTO THE WEST. THE WHOLE BOSUM OF THE TAPPAAN ZEE LAY MOTIONLESS AND GLASSY, EXCEPTING THAT HERE AND THERE A GENTLE UNDULATION WAVED AND PROLONGED THE BLUE SHADOW OF THE DISTANT MOUNTAIN. A FEW AMBER CLOUDS FLOATED IN THE SKY, WITHOUT A BREATH OF AIR TO MOVE THEM. THE HORIZON WAS OF A FINE GOLDEN TINT, CHANGING GRADUALLY INTO A PURE APPLE GREEN, AND FROM THAT INTO THE DEEP BLUE OF THE MID-HEAVEN. A SLANTING RAY LINGERED ON THE WOODY CRESTS OF THE PRECIPICES THAT OVERHUNG SOME, PARTS OF THE RIVER, GIVING GREAT DEPTH TO THE DARK GRAY AND PURPLE OF THEIR ROCKY SIDES. A SLOOP WAS LOITERING IN THE DISTANCE, DROPPING SLOWLY DOWN WITH THE TIDE, HER SAIL HANGING USELESSLY AGAINST THE MAST; AND AS THE REFLECTION OF THE SKY GLEANED ALONG THE STILL WATER, IT SEEMED AS IF THE VESSEL WAS SUSPENDED IN THE AIR."

     IRVING NOTES, WITH KEEN OBSERVATION, OF HIS CHARACTER'S PASSAGE, THAT "IT WAS TOWARD EVENING THAT ICHABOD ARRIVED AT THE CASTLE OF THE HEER VAN TASSLE, WHICH HE FOUND THRONGED WITH THE PRIDE AND FLOWER OF THE ADJACENT COUNTRY. OLD FARMERS, A SPARE LEATHERN-FACED RACE, IN HOMESPUN COATS AND BREECHES, BLUE STOCKINGS, HUGE SHOES AND MAGNIFICENT PEWTER BUCKLES. THEIR BRISK, WITHERED LITTLE DAMES, IN CLOSE CRIMPED CAPS, WITH LONG-WAISTED GOWNS, HOMESPUN PETTICOATS, WITH SCISSORS AND PIN-CUSHIONS, AND GAY CALICO POCKETS HANGING ON THE OUTSIDE. BUXOM LASSES, ALMOST AS ANTIQUATED AS THEIR MOTHERS, EXCEPTING WHERE A STRAW HAT, A FINE RIBAND, OR PERHAPS A WHITE FROCK, GAVE SYMPTOMS OF CITY IN MOTIVATIONS. THE SONS, IN SHORT SQUARE-SKIRTED COATS, WITH ROWS OF STUPENDOUS BRASS BUTTONS, AND THEIR HAIR GENERALLY QUEUED IN THE FASHION OF THE TIMES, ESPECIALLY IF THEY COULD PROCURE AN EELSKIN FOR THE PURPOSE, IT BEING ESTEEMED THROUGHOUT THE COUNTRY AS A POTENT NOURISHER AND STRENGTHENER OF THE HAIR.

     "BROM BONES, HOWEVER, WAS THE HERO OF THE SCENE, HAVING COME TO THE GATHERING ON HIS FAVORITE STEED, 'DAREDEVIL,' A CREATURE, LIKE HIMSELF, FULL OF METTLE AND MISCHIEF AND WHICH NO ONE BUT HIMSELF COULD MANAGE. HE WAS, IN FACT, NOTED FOR PREFERRING VICIOUS ANIMALS, GIVEN TO ALL KINDS OF TRICKS WHICH KEPT THE RIDER IN CONSTANT RISK OF HIS NECK, FOR HE HELD A TRACTABLE WELL-BROKEN HORSE, AS UNWORTHY OF A LAD OF SPIRIT.

     "FAIN WOULD I PAUSE TO DWELL UPON THE WORLD OF CHARMS THAT BURST UPON THE ENRAPTURED GAZE OF MY HERO, AS HE ENTERED THE STATE PARLOUR OF VAN TASSEL'S MANSION. NOT THOSE OF THE BEVY OF BUXOM LASSES, WITH THEIR LUXURIOUS DISPLAY OF RED AND WHITE; BUT THE AMPLE CHORUS OF A GENUINE DUTCH COUNTRY TEA-TABLE, IN THE SUMPTUOUS TIME OF AUTUMN. SUCH HEAPED-UP PLATTERS OF CAKES OF VARIOUS AND ALMOST INDESCRIBABLE KINDS, KNOWN ONLY TO EXPERIENCED DUTCH HOUSEWIVES."

     IRVING ADDS, "OLD BALTUS VAN TASSEL MOVED ABOUT HIS GUESTS WITH A FACE DILATED WITH CONTENT AND GOOD HUMOUR, ROUND AND JOLLY AS THE HARVEST MOON. HIS HOSPITABLE ATTENTIONS WERE BRIEF, BUT EXPRESSIVE, BEING CONFINED TO A SHAKE OF THE HAND, A SLAP ON THE SHOULDER, A LOUD LAUGH, AND A PRESSING INVITATION TO 'FAIL TO, AND HELP THEMSELVES'. AND NOW THE SOUND OF THE MUSIC  FROM THE COMMON ROOM, OR HALL SUMMONED TO THE DANCE."

     "ICHABOD PRIDED HIMSELF UPON HIS DANCING AS MUCH AS UPON HIS VOCAL POWERS," IRVING CHARACTERIZES OF THE TEACHER. "NOT A LIMB, NOT A FIBRE ABOUT HIM WAS IDLE; AND TO HAVE SEEN HIS LOOSELY HUNG FRAME IN FULL MOTION, AND CLATTERING ABOUT THE ROOM, YOU WOULD HAVE THOUGHT ST. VITUS HIMSELF, THAT BLESSED PATRON OF THE DANCE, WAS FIGURING BEFORE YOU IN PERSON." "WHEN THE DANCE WAS AT AN END, ICHABOD WAS ATTRACTED TO A KNOT OF THE EAGER FOLKS, WHO WITH OLD VAN TASSEL, SAT SMOKING AT ONE END OF THE PLAZA, GOSSIPING OVER FORMER TIMES, AND DRAWING OUT LONG STORIES ABOUT THE WAR," RECORDS THE AUTHOR, OF CRANE'S MOVEMENT ABOUT THE HOME.

     "THE REVEL NOW GRADUALLY BROKE UP. THE OLD FARMERS GATHERED TOGETHER THEIR FAMILIES IN THEIR WAGONS, AND WERE HEARD FOR SOME TIME RATTLING ALONG THE HOLLOW ROADS, AND OVER THE DISTANT HILLS. SOME OF THE DAMSELS MOUNTED ON PILLIONS BEHIND THEIR FAVORITE SWAINS, AND THEIR LIGHT-HEARTED LAUGHTER, MINGLING WITH THE CLATTER OF HOOFS, ECHOED ALONG THE SILENT WOODLANDS, SOUNDING FAINTER AND FAINTER, UNTIL THEY GRADUALLY DIED AWAY - AND THE LATE SCENE OF NOISE AND FROLIC WAS ALL SILENT AND DESERTED," WRITES IRVING. "ICHABOD ONLY LINGERED BEHIND, ACCORDING TO THE CUSTOM OF COUNTRY LOVERS, TO HAVE A TETE-A-TETE WITH THE HEIRESS; FULLY CONVINCED THAT HE WAS NOW ON THE HIGH ROAD TO SUCCESS. WHAT PASSED AT THIS INTERVIEW I WILL NOT PRETEND TO SAY, FOR IN FACT I DO NOT KNOW. SOMETHING HOWEVER, I FEAR ME, MUST HAVE GONE WRONG, FOR HE CERTAINLY SAILED FORTH, AFTER NO VERY GREAT INTERVAL, WITH AN AIR OF QUITE DESOLATE AND CHAPFALLEN - OH, THESE WOMEN, THESE WOMEN! COULD THAT GIRL HAVE BEEN PLAYING OFF ANY OF HER COQUETISH TRICKS? WAS HER ENCOURAGEMENT OF THE POOR PEDAGOGUE ALL A MERE SHAM TO SECURE HER CONQUEST OF HIS RIVAL? HEAVEN ONLY KNOWS."

     "IT WAS THE VERY WITCHING TIME OF NIGHT THAT ICHABOD, HEAVY-HEARTED AND CREST-FALLEN, PURSUED HIS TRAVEL HOMEWARDS, ALONG THE SIDES OF THE LOFTY HILLS WHICH RISE ABOVE TARRY TOWN, AND WHICH HE HAD TRAVERSED SO CHEERILY IN THE AFTERNOON. THE HOUR WAS AS DISMAL AS HIMSELF. FAR BELOW HIM, THE TAPPANN ZEE SPREAD ITS DUSKY AND INDISTINCT WASTE OF WATERS, WITH HERE AND THERE A TALL MAST OF A SLOOP, RIDING QUIETLY AT ANCHOR UNDER THE LAND. IN THE DEAD HUSH OF MIDNIGHT, HE COULD EVEN HEAR THE BARKING OF THE WATCHDOG FROM THE OTHER SIDE OF THE HUDSON; BUT IT WAS SO VAGUE AND FAINT AS ONLY TO GIVE AN IDEA OF HIS DISTANCE FROM THIS FAITHFUL COMPANION OF MAN. NOW AND THEN, TOO, THE LONG-DRAWN CROWING OF A COCK, ACCIDENTALLY AWAKENED WOULD SOUND FAR, FAR OFF, FROM SOME FARM-HOUSE, AWAY AMONG THE HILLS - BUT IT WAS LIKE A DREAMING SOUND IN HIS EAR. NO SIGNS OF LIFE OCCURRED NEAR HIM, BUT OCCASIONALLY THE MELANCHOLY CHIRP OF A CRICKET, OR PERHAPS THE GUTTURAL TWANG OF A BULL-FROG FROM A NEIGHBORING MARSH, AS IF SLEEPING UNCOMFORTABLY, AND TURNING SUDDENLY IN HIS BED. ALL THE STORIES OF GHOSTS AND GOBLINS THAT HE HAD HEARD IN THE AFTERNOON, NOW CAME CROWDING UPON HIS RECOLLECTION. THE NIGHT GREW DARKER AND DARKER; THE STARS SEEMED TO SINK DEEPER IN THE SKY, AND DRIVING CLOUDS OCCASIONALLY HID THEM FROM HIS SIGHT. HE HAD NEVER FELT SO LONELY AND DISMAL. HE WAS MOREOVER, APPROACHING THE VERY PLACE WHERE MANY OF THE SCENES OF GHOST STORIES HAD BEEN LAID. IN THE CENTRE OF THE ROAD STOOD AN ENORMOUS TULIP-TREE, WHICH TOWERED LIKE A GIANT ABOVE ALL THE OTHER TREES OF THE NEIGHBORHOOD, AND FORMED A KIND OF LANDMARK. ITS LIMBS WERE GNARLED AND FANTASTIC, LARGE ENOUGH TO FORM TRUNKS FOR ORDINARY TREES, TWISTING DOWN ALMOST TO THE EARTH, AND RISING AGAIN, INTO THE AIR. IT WAS CONNECTED WITH THE TRAGICAL STORY OF THE UNFORTUNATE ANDRE, WHO HAD BEEN TAKEN PRISONER HARD BY; AND WAS UNIVERSALLY KNOWN BY THE NAME OF MAJOR ANDRE'S TREE. THE COMMON PEOPLE REGARDED IT WITH A MIXTURE OF RESPECT AND SUPERSTITION PARTLY OUT OF SYMPATHY FOR THE FATE OF ITS ILL-STARTED NAMESAKE, AND PARTLY FROM THE TALES OF STRANGE SIGHTS AND DOLEFUL LAMENTATIONS TOLD CONCERNING IT."

     I WILL J RE-JOIN THE ADVENTUROUS TRAVELS OF ICHABOD CRANE, IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD OF STORIED "SLEEPY HOLLOW," IN TOMORROW'S BLOG. PLEASE CATCH PART TWO OF THREE OF THIS TRIBUTE TO WASHINGTON IRVING, AND THE TOWN OF BRACEBRIDGE, ONTARIO, THAT CARRIES THE PROVENANCE OF HIS GOOD NAME.

     IT IS KNOWN, BY THE WAY, THAT AUTHOR CHARLES DICKENS, HIMSELF, WAS A BIG FAN OF THE WORK OF WASHINGTON IRVING, CONFESSING TO A COLLEAGUE ONCE, THAT HE OFTEN "RETIRED TO BEDLAM," WITH ONE OF HIS BOOKS, "TUCKED UNDER HIS ARM." NOT A BAD PROVENANCE THEN, WOULDN'T YOU SAY, TO HAVE BEEN AFFORDED A NAME ASSOCIATED WITH WASHINGTON IRVING?