Sleepy Hollow
Ichabod lifts a LEATHER SATCHEL, checking its contents.
EXT. UPSTATE FORESTS-DAY
TWO FAMILIES of MIGRANT WORKERS travel a path, leading over- burdened horses. Ichabod’s coach approaches from the other direction. Ichabod looks out, unnerved.
One GAUNT MAN watches Ichabod pass. There is a dead, worried look in the man’s eyes. Others stare at Ichabod.
EXT. SLEEPY HOLLOW, THE LONG STRAIGHT ROAD-DAY
Ichabod faces two massive, vine-covered PILLARS, unsure. He turns to watch the driver lead the coach away.
Ichabod walks between the pillars to a long straight road. He does not notice, above: THREE DEAD RAVENS hang from a tree limb, twine wrapped round their necks.
EXT. SLEEPY HOLLOW, TOWN SQUARE-DAY
Ichabod walks on with baggage. The square is empty, a CHURCH and GRAVEYARD at one end. The road ahead is bordered by businesses and homes.
CONVERSATION DRIFTS from a tavern. A criminal sits in stocks. A quiet CRYING is HEARD. Ichabod hears…
He looks for its source. It’s from a window above, LOUDER. SOUNDS like the SOBBING of an OLD WOMAN.
EXT. VAN TASSEL ESTATE-DAY
ICHABOD’S P.O.V. a BELLTOWER stands tall, like a mast pole with a crow’s nest basket atop. There’s a man in the basket and a huge BELL.
Ichabod ponders this as he continues. Ahead on a hill: the grand Van Tassel Manor House.
INT. VAN TASSEL MANOR HOUSE, SITTING ROOM-DAY
MANY CHILDREN, in a circle, taunt a BLINDFOLDED YOUNG WOMAN spun round by the handsome, barrel-chested man, BROM VAN BRUNT. A few YOUNG MEN and LADIES watch. Brom releases the woman. Everyone quiets and avoids her searching hands.
BLINDFOLDED WOMAN This is such a silly game.
BROM Be a sport and stop complaining.
The woman moves to Brom’s voice. He backs away, flanked by peers GLENN and THEODORE. Children laugh.
Ichabod enters, clearing his throat. No one notices. The blindfolded woman keeps grasping. One LITTLE GIRL sees Ichabod and goes to him, finger to her lips.
LITTLE GIRL Play along. You must.
She tugs him. Before Ichabod can protest, he is placed in the blindfolded woman’s grip.
BLINDFOLDED WOMAN There, I have someone. Am I finished?
LITTLE GIRL You have to tell who it is.
The woman touches Ichabod’s face. He is uncomfortable, affected by this caress. Brom watches jealously.
LITTLE GIRL At least make a guess.
BLINDFOLDED WOMAN I don’t know. Is it Brom Bones?
BROM Certainly not.
ICHABOD Excuse me, Miss… (takes her hands) They have a laugh at your expense.
She takes the kerchief off to reveal a stunning beauty: KATRINA VAN TASSEL. Ichabod tries to compose himself.
KATRINA Forgive me, I didn’t know.
ICHABOD I… I am looking for Baltus Van Tassel.
BROM We haven’t heard your name yet, friend.
ICHABOD Well, unless your name is Baltus, you should not worry over mine.
Brom grabs Ichabod’s collar, pissed. Ichabod’s baffled.
BROM You need some manners.
KATRINA Brom!
Brom looks at her, then reluctantly releases Ichabod.
MAN’S VOICE (o.s.) What is this, then… ?
BALTUS VAN TASSEL, 45, has entered, a working-class aristocrat. LADY VAN TASSEL, 40, stands behind, a mix of home-spun wife and well-kept lady.
BALTUS Can I help you, sir?
Ichabod’s relieved to have a proper focal point. Children gather around Katrina and hide behind her.
ICHABOD I have been sent from the city with a letter of introduction. I am told you offer me room and board.
Ichabod hands over papers. Baltus reads, furrows his brow.
ICHABOD If we could speak alone.
BALTUS (nods, looks to Katrina) This is not a time for frivolity, Katrina, is it? Am I mistaken?
KATRINA They’re only children, father.
Baltus snorts, then exits with Ichabod. The others huddle to gossip, except Katrina, who moves beside Lady Van Tassel to watch Ichabod and Baltus walk down the hall.
INT. VAN TASSEL HOUSE, PARLOR-DAY
DOCTOR LANCASTER, 50, dour and always sweaty, takes a seat by the fire, joining Baltus and three other elders. A pretty servant, SARAH, brings a pipe cradle while Lady Van Tassel sets down food. Ichabod is standing.
BALTUS That will be all, ladies. (waits as they exit) We are joined by Doctor Thomas Lancaster, Constable. And to his left are, Clergyman Steenwyck and our able magistrate, Samuel Philipse, both keeping order in their own ways.
PHILIPSE is youngest, eyes bloodshot, mug in hand and pipe in mouth. CLERGYMAN STEENWYCK is formidably built, wearing a constant look of disapproval.
BALTUS I myself am in charge of financial matters and the regulation of currency in our commonwealth. And, lastly, this fine fellow is James Hardenbrook, our Notary.
HARDENBROOK is oldest, ancient, with one eye pale and blind.
ICHABOD An honor, gentlemen. In time I will need every detail of the three murderings you’ve had, but, for now, I ask only if you have any theory at all as to who the killer might be?
DOCTOR LANCASTER Excuse me?
ICHABOD I say, is there any one person suspect in these acts?
DOCTOR LANCASTER I was afraid of this.
Philipse shoots a look to Baltus. Angst amongst the elders.
PHILIPSE Well, Constable… are you aware… to be honest, you are not what we expected. We sent for the militia.
ICHABOD The militia?
FATHER STEENWYCK Why not tell us what you have heard? Hmm? How much have your superiors bothered to tell you?
ICHABOD All I know is three are slain, their heads found severed from their bodies…
FATHER STEENWYCK The heads were not found severed. The heads were not found at all.
Withered Hardenbrook leans forward, his voice cragged.
HARDENBROOK Taken. Taken by the Headless Horseman. Taken back to hell.
ICHABOD Pardon me?
BALTUS You have not been well informed of our troubles, sir. If you would…
Baltus gestures for Ichabod to sit. Baltus lights his pipe.
BALTUS The Horseman… he was a Hessian mercenary, sent to our shores by German princes to help keep Americans under the thumb of England. However, unlike his compatriots who came as muscle in trade for currency, he came willingly. For love of carnage.
FLASHBACK-AMERICAN BATTLEFIELD-DAY
The HESSIAN HORSEMAN rides his black steed into a gory, close-quarters clash, his cloaked uniform adorned with edged weapons. He cuts down Americans left and right.
BALTUS (v.o.) He was infamous for taking his horse, Daredevil, hard into battle… chopping off heads at full gallop.
He dismounts, hoisting a battle axe. With sword and axe, he annihilates. Blood gushes. Bones crack.
BALTUS (v.o.) Just to look on him made your blood run cold, for he had filed down his teeth to rapiers… to add to the ferocity of his appearance.
The Horseman lets out a war cry. Jagged teeth. Grotesque.
FOREST BATTLEFIELD-DAY
Winter. CANNONS can be HEARD BOOMING from afar. Daredevil lies dead in red snow. FOLLOW FOOTPRINTS away…
BALTUS (v.o.) He would not finally meet his end till the winter of seventy-nine, when New York City was held by Henry Clinton and Washington occupied West Point. It was between those two places, not far from here…
The Horseman flees, cloak flowing, chased by FIVE rag-tag REVOLUTIONARY SOLDIERS. Ahead, a steep, rocky area prevents escape. Soldier one aims a rifle and FIRES…
Blood explodes from the Horseman’s arm as he runs. His sword falls from his now functionless hand.
Soldier Two grabs the sword.
At the rocks, the Horseman faces the men. Another Rifleman raises his rifle. The Horseman reaches over his shoulder to grasp a sheathed knife, THROWS- THOCK! The Rifleman jerks back, knife in his eye socket.
The Horseman readies an axe. The Revolutionaries move in with swords. They battle, STEEL AGAINST STEEL. The Horseman fends off blows from all sides.
Soldier Three lunges, stabs his blade deep into the Horseman’s side. The Horseman roars, brings his axe DOWN… BREAKS the sword at the hilt…
An UPWARDS stroke sends Soldier Three head over heels in a fountain of blood.
The Horseman staggers, howling, trying to pull the blade from his ribs. The remaining soldiers close in.
INT. VAN TASSEL HOUSE, SITTING ROOM-NIGHT
Pipe smoke wafts from Philipse’s mouth.
PHILIPSE Cut off his head with his own sword. It’s a legend told for twenty years.
