used with courtesey of Daily Script
Sleepy Hollow
Being the true storie of one Ichabod Crane
and the Headless Horseman
Kevin Yagher and Andrew Kevin Walker
Based on “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow” by Washington Irving
Screenplay by Andrew Kevin Walker
Sleepy Hollow
Being the true storie of one Ichabod Crane
and the Headless Horseman
Kevin Yagher and Andrew Kevin Walker
Based on “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow” by Washington Irving
Screenplay by Andrew Kevin Walker
and
Tom Stoppard
Shooting Draft
9/29/98
A pleasing land of drowsy head it was,
of dreams that wave before the half shut eye…
NOTE: THE HARD COPY OF THIS SCRIPT CONTAINED SCENE NUMBERS
AND SOME “OMITTED” SLUGS. THEY HAVE BEEN REMOVED FOR THIS
SOFT COPY.
EXT. CITY STREETS-NIGHT
Empty cobblestone streets are bordered by stately buildings. A rapidly
CLANGING BELL breaks the silence from afar.
INSERT TITLE: New York City
1799
TWO CONSTABLES clamor around a corner, lanterns held high, listening.
They disappear down an alleyway.
EXT. CITY WATERFRONT-NIGHT
ELSEWHERE, piers border the Hudson. The BELL is LOUDER here. The two
constables arrive, searching, pistols drawn.
CONSTABLE ONE
Where are you?!
MAN’S VOICE (O.S.)
Here… ! Over here!
The constables hurry to the river’s edge…
Down an embankment, the MAN, another constable, has his back to us.
He’s waist deep in dark water, throwing aside his ALARM BELL,
struggling to pull something from the murk…
MAN
I need your help with this.
Constable Two and Constable One move forward, wary.
CONSTABLE ONE
Constable Crane? Ichabod Crane… is
that you?
The MAN turns. Meet ICHABOD CRANE, handsome, eyes piercing but nervous
and unsettled.
ICHABOD
None other, and not only me…
(returns to lifting)
I have found something…
Ichabod drags a bloated MALE CORPSE out from the water. He backs away,
shaken, looks to the constables…
ICHABOD (CONT’D)
… which was lately a man.
INT. CITY WATCHHOUSE, JAIL-NIGHT
In a dank, cavernous room, the distinguished HIGH CONSTABLE lifts a
blanket off the corpse in a wheelbarrow manned by Constable Two.
Constable One and Ichabod are near, watching.
HIGH CONSTABLE
Burn it.
CONSTABLE ONE
Yes, sir.
Constable Two wheels the corpse down a RAMP to another room.
ICHABOD
Just a moment, if I may… we do not
yet know the cause of death.
HIGH CONSTABLE
When you find ’em in the river,
cause of death is drowning.
ICHABOD
Possibly so if there is water in the
lungs, but… by pathology we might
determine whether or not he was dead
when he went into the river.
HIGH CONSTABLE
Cut him up? Are we heathens? Let him
rest in peace-in one piece as
according to God and the New York
Department of Health.
Ichabod is about to protest, but stops himself, frustrated.
Two THUGGISH CONSTABLES-different ones-bring in a bleeding
SEMICONSCIOUS MAN.
HIGH CONSTABLE (CONT’D)
What happened to him?
THUGGISH CONSTABLE
Nothing, sir. Arrested for burglary.
The constables throw him against the bars of the slammer while one of
them opens the cage door. With their leather truncheons, the cops beat
their prisoner into the cage and lock him in.
HIGH CONSTABLE
Good work…
Ichabod hurries to follow his two constables and the corpse.
EXT. CITY WATCHHOUSE-DAY
The metropolis thrives; horsedrawn vehicles plodding, MEN, WOMEN and
CHILDREN, MERCHANTS and TRADESMEN everywhere.
MEN are held in chains and gibbets in front of the Watchhouse.
INT. CITY WATCHHOUSE, JAIL-DAY
We enter midway into a “Audition Scene.” A row of CITY OFFICIALS are
“auditioning” APPLICANTS (mostly obvious Cranks and Eccentrics) with
Devices for crime fighting and crime solving. The Applicants are
crowded together to one side, waiting their turn. Ichabod, holding
only papers and books, is among them.
“On Stage” at this moment is an INVENTOR demonstrating his invention,
of which more in a moment. Facing the “stage” is the BURGOMASTER,
flanked by the HIGH CONSTABLE (who has a list of names) and various
MAGISTRATES and ALDERMEN.
The Inventor is demonstrating a combination wallet and mousetrap.
INVENTOR
… and in a few weeks, the plague of
pickpockets will be a thing of the
past!
He shows how to set the trap-spring.
INVENTOR (CONT’D)
Give me a dozen constables in
gentleman’s dress…
He pockets the wallet-trap.
INVENTOR (CONT’D)
… mixing with the crowds where
pickpockets are rife!
He produces a fake hand-on-a-stick and does the business.
INVENTOR (CONT’D)
A stealthy hand dips into the
gentleman’s pocket… and-!
There is the sound of the trap snapping shut and the Inventor
withdraws the fake hand with its fingers chopped off. The Officials
wince, impressed.
BURGOMASTER
Thank you. We will take your device
under consideration, Mr.
Vanderbilt… Next!
A SPOTTY MAN starts dragging a man-sized cage contraption to center
stage… while Ichabod tries to get the attention of the Officials.
ICHABOD
Gentlemen! -the Millennium is
almost upon us-In a few months we
will be living in the nineteenth
century-!
HIGH CONSTABLE
Wait your turn, Constable Crane-
ICHABOD
These devices are unworthy of a
modern civilization…
BURGOMASTER
Quiet! -Next, I say!
SPOTTY MAN
Thank you, sir!
He turns proudly to his man-size cage, whose front hinges down for
ingress.
The floor of the cage is a steel plate. A “writting board” for signing
confessions is attached to the inside of the cage.
SPOTTY MAN (CONT’D)
The Tomkins self-locking
Confessional is cheap at the price
and will last for years with just an
occasional wipe with a damp cloth…
When the villain steps on the floor
plate…
Ichabod, dropping books and papers around his feet, is feverishly
writing on a blank page (his “traveling inkpot” is hung around his
neck).
ICHABOD
(pointing to the Spotty
Man)
Arrest that man!
HIGH CONSTABLE
(jaw dropped)
Arrest… ?
ICHABOD
I accuse him of murder!
SPOTTY MAN
What the devil are you talking
about, you loon?!
Ichabod takes two steps toward him and gives him a violent shove in
the chest. The Spotty Man staggers back into his cage, which self-
locks, and at the same time a head clamp descends from the top,
gripping the Spotty Man’s head. His arms flail about as he yells.
Ichabod slaps his page on the writing board, offers his pen.
ICHABOD
Sign here!
SPOTTY MAN
(groaning and pointing)
The release handle…
ICHABOD
Not till you confess… !
Uproar around him, Ichabod waits as the prisoner signs the paper, then
pulls the “release handle.”
ICHABOD (CONT’D)
(waving the confession)
I have here a confession to the
murder of a man I fished out of the
river last night!
HIGH CONSTABLE
(furious)
Stand down!
ICHABOD
I stand up, for sense and justice!
Our jails overflow with men and
women convicted on confessions worth
no more than this one!
The High Constable bangs a gavel until he gets some silence for the
Burgomaster. Meanwhile, the Spotty Man is rescued by his friends.
BURGOMASTER
Constable, this is a song we have
heard from you more than once but
never before with this discordant
accompaniment. I have two courses
open to me. First, I can let you
cool your heels in the cells until
you learn respect for the dignity of
my office…
ICHABOD
I beg pardon. I only meant well. Why
am I the only one who sees that to
solve crimes, to detect the guilty,
we must use our brains? -to
recognize vital clues, using up-to-
date scientific-
BURGOMASTER
(interrupting)
Which brings me to the second
course. Constable Crane, there is a
town upstate, two days’ journey to
the north in the Hudson Highlands.
It is a place called Sleepy Hollow.
Have you heard of it?
ICHABOD
I have not.
BURGOMASTER
An isolated farming community,
mostly Dutch. Three persons have
been murdered there, all within a
fortnight… each found with their
head lopped off.
ICHABOD
Lopped off?
BURGOMASTER
Clean as dandelion heads,
apparently. Now, these ideas of
yours, they have never been put to
the test…
ICHABOD
I have never been allowed to put
them to the test!
BURGOMASTER
Just so, granted. So you take your
experimentations to Sleepy Hollow
and deduce, er detect the murderer.
Bring him here to face our good
justice. Will you do this?
ICHABOD
(swallowing doubt)
I shall, gladly.
BURGOMASTER
And remember-it is you, Ichabod
Crane, who is now put to the test.
The Burgomaster smiles encouragingly.
INT/EXT. ICHABOD’S HOME, 2ND FLOOR-DAY (TITLE SEQUENCE BEGINS)
Piles of BOOKS and PAPERS, JARS of CHEMICALS, MAGNIFYING GLASSES,
CHALKBOARDS covered with scrawl and ANATOMY CHARTS above a small bed.
AT THE WINDOW, Ichabod holds a bird cage with a red CARDINAL inside.
He opens the cage and the bird flies free…
ICHABOD
Such a day for such a sad farewell,
this is good-bye, my sweet…
Ichabod watches it go, sad, then looks down. A COACH halts in the
street below. The forlorn DRIVER looks up.
EXT. NEW YORK CITY STREETS-DAY
ICHABOD’S COACH leaves city limits, forgoing civilization… following
a dirt road to forested wilderness.
EXT. NEW YORK FORESTS-NIGHT
Coach lanterns light the way as the coach lumbers along, caressed by
tight foliage. A WOLF is HEARD HOWLING. Ichabod looks out, unnerved,
shuts the window’s curtain.
EXT. UPSTATE FORESTS-DAY
The coach moves through sun dappled forest…
INT. ICHABOD’S COACH-DAY
Ichabod checks the contents of a LEATHER SATCHEL in his lap. He pauses
a moment, studying the palm of his hand.
Ichabod touches the strange SCARS on both his palms: evenly dispersed,
tiny dots of tissue. Many scars. After a moment, he returns to looking
through his satchel.
EXT. SLEEPY HOLLOW, THE LONG STRAIGHT ROAD-LATE DAY
Ichabod stands between two massive STONE PILLARS. He’s unsure, turning
to watch his coach leave him behind.
Ichabod picks up his bags and heads between the pillars, starting up a
LONG STRAIGHT ROAD. He does not notice, in the tree limbs above: THREE
DEAD RAVENS, hung by twine.
EXT. SLEEPY HOLLOW, TOWN SQUARE-DUSK
Ichabod walks on, passing a CHURCH and GRAVEYARD. The road ahead is
bordered by rows of businesses and two-story homes.
Ichabod enters the TOWN SQUARE proper. And ELDERLY WOMAN stands in a
doorway, watching Ichabod. Ichabod tips his hat. The woman backs away,
shuts her door.
Ichabod continues. He looks up… a MAN closes the shutters of a
second-story window.
As Ichabod continues he sees that there are two or three Riflemen
placed at vantage points on the roofs and also, when he looks back, a
Rifleman up on the Church Tower. The whole village is like a Western
town waiting for an attack.
EXT. WOODEN BUNKER-DUSK
A strange WOODEN BUNKER, like a small fortress with a HUGE BELL
mounted on top, sits in a field. SEVERAL DIRT FARMERS are gathered,
all with rifles.
Ichabod stops as he walks, looking at this…
A boy, YOUNG MASBATH, aged 10, comes to the Designated Rifleman,
JONATHAN MASBATH, with food and drink, i.e., a picnic tied up in cloth
and a stone bottle of beer. Masbath Senior takes the picnic and gives
Young Masbath an affectionate pat. He smiles confidently.
MASBATH SENIOR
Don’t worry, son.
One farmer comes to lead Young Masbath away as Jonathan heads into the
BUNKER, taking several rifles.
In front of the BUNKER, across a field, other dirt farmers light TORCH
POSTS in a line along the forest edge.
Ichabod ponders this as he trudges along…
EXT. VAN TASSEL HOUSE-DUSK
Ahead on a hill: the grand Van Tassel MANOR HOUSE, windows aglow.
TITLE SEQUENCE ENDS
EXT. VAN TASSEL HOUSE, FRONT DOOR-NIGHT
Ichabod puts down his bags (a suitcase and a leather box-bag) but
keeps his satchel.
JACK-O’-LANTERNS glow on the porch.
A KISSING COUPLE are lustfully busy in a dark corner of the porch. The
woman is a pretty servant, SARAH. The man we will know as DOCTOR
LANCASTER.
Ichabod almost blunders into them, causing a little panic and
embarrassment, in which Ichabod shares, and as he mumbles apologies
and opens the door, a shaft of light identifies the couple for our
further reference.
The open door reveals the MAIN HALL and FOYER…
There’s a harvest party in progress. PEOPLE are gathered. QUIET MUSIC
is HEARD from elsewhere.
INT. VAN TASSEL HOUSE, SITTING ROOM-NIGHT
Ichabod opens a door. MEN and WOMEN eat and drink, talking quietly in
groups. Ichabod looks around, daunted, tentatively makes his way…
Ichabod bumps into a few people, excusing himself. He mops his sweaty
brow, finds a pretty girl.
ICHABOD
Pardon my intrusion, I seek Baltus
Van Tassel but-
GIRL
In the parlor, sir, further on.
Ichabod thanks her, continues…
Ahead, CHILDREN, YOUNG MEN and LADIES in a circle taunt a BLINDFOLDED
YOUNG WOMAN spun around by the handsome, barrel-chested man, BROM VAN
BRUNT. Brom releases the woman. Everyone quiets, avoiding her
searching hands.
The Blindfolded Woman circles slowly, chanting a REFRAIN that makes
the CHILDREN and even some of the younger WOMEN shiver with
pleasurable fright. They giggle nervously and hush each other up.
BLINDFOLDED WOMAN
“The Pickety Witch, the Pickety
Witch, who’s got a kiss for the
pickety witch?”
She makes a lunge, grabbing empty air, just missing BROM; everyone
moans humorously. Doctor Lancaster slips back into the party, and
Sarah likewise.
Ichabod is trying to pass through to reach the farther door… and on
the NEXT REFRAIN finds himself caught by the Blindfolded Woman.
Everyone stays quiet, that’s the game, but of course everyone is also
puzzled, not knowing Ichabod. The Woman touches Ichabod’s face, which
embarrasses Ichabod and displeases Brom.
CHILD
A kiss, a kiss!
WOMAN
She has to guess first.
The WOMAN is wifely, and as she puts her arm through Doctor
Lancaster’s arm, we realize she is his wife.
BLINDFOLDED WOMAN
Is it Theodore?
There’s a general laugh at that.
ICHABOD
Pardon, ma’am. I am only a stranger.
BLINDFOLDED WOMAN
Then have a kiss on account.
She kisses him laughingly and takes the blindfold off the reveal a
stunning beauty: KATRINA VAN TASSEL. She smiles. Ichabod tries to
compose himself, stricken by the sight of her.
ICHABOD
I… um, I am looking for Baltus Van
Tassel.
KATRINA
I am his daughter, Katrina Van
Tassel.
BROM
And who are you, friend? We have not
heard your name yet.
ICHABOD
I have not said it. Excuse me…
Brom grabs Ichabod’s collar. Ichabod’s baffled.
BROM
You need some manners.
KATRINA
Brom!
MAN’S VOICE (O.S.)
(admonishing)
Come, come-we want no raised
voices…
We now SEE that the voice belongs to BALTUS VAN TASSEL, a working-
class self-made Mr. Big with a sympathetic smile.
BALTUS (CONT’D)
It is only to raise the spirits
during this dark time that I and my
good wife are giving this little
party…
LADY VAN TASSEL stands behind him, a mix of homespun wife and well-
kept lady. Brom releases Ichabod. Children hide behind Katrina.
Ichabod’s relieved to have a proper focal point. Others from the party
gather.
BALTUS (CONT’D)
Young sir, you are welcome even if
you are selling something!
The pleasantry relaxes the atmosphere around Ichabod.
ICHABOD
Thank you, sir. I am Constable
Ichabod Crane, sent to you from New
York with authority to investigate
murder in Sleepy Hollow.
This has quite an effect. A man we will know as MAGISTRATE PHILIPSE
looks up sharply. A man we will know as REVEREND STEENWYCK grunts
skeptically. A man we have already seen, DOCTOR LANCASTER, exchanges a
surprised look with another man, NOTARY HARDENBROOK.
STEENWYCK
(rudely)
Well, what use is a Constable?!
Lady Van Tassel gives the Clergyman a reproachful look.
LADY VAN TASSEL
Then, Sleepy Hollow is grateful to
you, Constable Crane-I hope you
will honor this house by remaining
with us until…
BROM
Until you’ve made the arrest!
To Ichabod’s surprise this gets a nervous laugh. Baltus frowns at Brom.
Katrina looks at Ichabod with renewed interest.
BALTUS
(to his wife)
Well spoke!
(to Ichabod)
Come, sir. We’ll get you settled.
(to the Musicians)
Play on!
Baltus catches the eyes of Philipse, then of Lancaster, nodding as if
to say “See you in a minute.”
As he leads Ichabod out, he murmurs to Steenwyck, who nods and passes
the murmur to Hardenbrook.
The Fiddlers strike up the music. Katrina watches Ichabod’s exit. Brom
watches Katrina’s interest with displeasure.
INT. VAN TASSEL HOUSE, ICHABOD’S ROOM-NIGHT
We HEAR the music from downstairs. Ichabod is unpacking-arranging
his scientific books. His “medical case,” revealing a few mysterious
Instruments of Detections, is open on the bed. Sarah is just
delivering a pitcher of water to the washstand.
ICHABOD
Thank you. Please tell Mr. Van
Tassel I will be down in a moment.
SARAH
I will, sir.
(then-as she leaves)
Thank God you are here!
Ichabod is a bit surprised by her emotion. Then he pours the water and
douses his face.
INT. VAN TASSEL HOUSE, PARLOR-NIGHT
FIVE MEN wait grimly for Ichabod, silent in the presence of Sarah, who
is placing a pipe cradle by Baltus. Lady Van Tassel is pouring the men
a drink. The music from the party is faintly audible. Lancaster is 50,
dour, always sweaty. Philipse is youngest, a drinker, eyes bloodshot,
augmenting his glass with a shot from his private flask. Reverend
Steenwyck has a disdainful, sour expression. Hardenbrook is oldest,
ancient, nervous, one eye pale and blind.
HARDENBROOK
All the way from New York!
DOCTOR LANCASTER
A waste of time!
STEENWYCK
(to Baltus)
What can he do?
BALTUS
(calmingly)
Gentlemen, gentlemen…
Sarah, leaving, passes Doctor Lancaster, who secretly trails his hand
against Sarah’s buttock… not quite secretly enough for the vigilance
of Lady Van Tassel, who, by the merest flick of an eye, shows us that
she has noticed.
Sarah leaves just as Ichabod appears in the doorway, Sarah closing the
door behind him.
BALTUS (CONT’D)
(to Ichabod)
Excellent! Come in!
(to his wife)
Leave us, my dear.
ICHABOD
So. Three persons murdered. First,
Peter Van Garrett and his son Dirk
Van Garrett, both of them strong
capable men, found together,
decapitated. A week later, the Widow
Winship, also decapitated. I will
need to ask you many questions, but
first let me ask-is anyone
suspected?
BALTUS
I don’t understand you.
ICHABOD
I say, is there any one person
suspect in these acts?
The men stir in their seats-their looks say “I told you so!”- “Useless!”-etc.
BALTUS
Constable… how much have your
superiors explained to you?
ICHABOD
Only that the three were slain in
open ground and their heads found
severed from their bodies…
STEENWYCK
The heads were not found severed.
The heads were not found at all.
ICHABOD
The heads are gone?
Hardenbrook leans forward, his voice cragged.
HARDENBROOK
Taken. Taken by the Headless
Horseman. Taken back to hell.
ICHABOD
Pardon me, I… ?
BALTUS
Perhaps you had better sit down.
Baltus gestures for Ichabod to sit. Baltus lights his pipe and pours a
glass for Ichabod. The men help themselves to food and drink.
BALTUS (CONT’D)
The Horseman was a Hessian
mercenary, sent to our shores by
German princes to keep Americans
under the yoke of England. But
unlike his compatriots who came for
money, the Horseman came… for love
of carnage… and he was not like the
others…
FLASHBACK-AMERICAN BATTLEFIELD (WINTER)-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 rode a giant black steed named
Daredevil. He was infamous for
taking his horse hard into battle…
chopping off heads at full gallop.
The Horseman dismounts, hoists a battle axe. With sword and axe, he
annihilates. Blood gushes. Bones crack.
BALTUS (CONT’D; V.O.)
To look upon him made your blood run
cold, for he had filed down his
teeth to sharp points… to add to
the ferocity of his appearance…
The Horseman lets out a war cry. Jagged teeth. Grotesque.
FLASHBACK-FOREST BATTLEFIELD (WINTER)-DAY
Winter. CANNONS can be HEARD BOOMING from afar. Daredevil, galloping
is hit and falls. The Horseman is not hurt.
BALTUS (V.O.)
This butcher would not finally meet
his end till the winter of seventy-
nine…
The Horseman rises, eyes filled with rage, looks to see…
SIX ragtag REVOLUTIONARY SOLDIERS give chase, firing rifles. The
Horseman flees, bullets throwing snow behind.
BALTUS (CONT’D)
… not far from here in our Western
Woods…
FLASHBACK-DEEPER IN THE FOREST BATTLEFIELD (WINTER)-DAY
The Horseman glances back, bounding through, drawing his sword, when
suddenly he halts…
He’s happened upon TWO YOUNG GIRLS gathering firewood. The girls stand
frozen at the sight of him for a long, silent moment, till one girl
drops the firewood and runs.
The second girl remains, holding the Horseman’s gaze.
The Horseman and the girl hold each other’s gaze for a long beat.
The Horseman puts his finger to his lips, warning her to stay quiet.
The girl takes one of her pieces of dry wood and deliberately breaks
it, making a noise like a pistol shot.
There is a responding shout from a soldier back in the trees. The
Horseman turns to the sound.
Soldiers move forward from the forest behind, spreading out.
The second girl flees. The Horseman hefts his sword, turning as
soldiers surround. One soldier aims his rifle…
The Horseman reaches over his shoulder, grasps a sheathed knife and
THROWS-
THOCK! The rifleman jerks back, knife in his eye socket.
A second soldier aims and FIRES… Blood explodes from the Horseman’s
arm. His sword drops.
The Horseman readies and AXE in his good hand. The Revolutionaries
move in with swords. They battle, STEEL AGAINST STEEL. The Horseman
fends off blows…
Soldier Three stabs his blade deep into the Horseman’s side. The
Horseman roars, bringing his axe DOWN…
BREAKS the sword at the hilt. An UPWARD stroke sends Soldier Three
backward in a fountain of blood.
The Horseman staggers, trying to pull the blade from his ribs. The
remaining soldiers close in…
INT. VAN TASSEL HOUSE, PARLOR-NIGHT
Ichabod is spooked. Pipe smoke wafts from Baltus’s mouth.
BALTUS
They cut off his head with his own
sword. To this day, the Western
Woods is a haunted place where brave
men will not venture.
FLASHBACK-EXT. WESTERN WOODS, TREE OF THE DEAD AREA (WINTER)-DAY
The Horseman’s headless corpse lies in a shallow grave.
BALTUS (V.O.)
… for what was planted in the
ground that day was a seed of evil.
The HORSEMAN’S HEAD is dropped into the grave.
FLASHBACK-EXT. WESTERN WOODS, TREE OF THE DEAD AREA (WINTER)-LATER
DAY
One of the four surviving soldiers stabs the HORSEMAN’S SWORD deep in
the ground as a marker.
The grave is done. The soldiers walk away from the grave. They have
buried the Horseman in a treeless clearing.
Daredevil appears, limping, from the trees, and puts his nose down to
the turned earth.
The Second Girl is watching from hiding.
She sees: Daredevil collapses on the grave, blood frothing from his
mouth. Dying.
INT. VAN TASSEL HOUSE, PARLOR-NIGHT
BALTUS
And so it has been for twenty years.
But now the Hessian wakes-he is
on the rampage, cutting off heads
where he finds them.
Ichabod sits back, shakes off the reverie of the tale. He takes a gulp
from his glass.
ICHABOD
Are you… saying… ? Is that what
you believe?
HARDENBROOK
Seeing is believing!
Baltus puts a calming hand on senile Hardenbrook’s shoulder.
DOCTOR LANCASTER
No one knows why the Hessian has
chosen this time to return from the
grave.
STEENWYCK
Satan has called forth one of his
own.
Steenwyck stands and from a side table picks up the hefty Baltus
family Bible.
STEENWYCK (CONT’D)
They tell me you have brought books
and trappings of scientific
investigation-this is the only
book I recommend you study.
He drops the Bible on the table in front of Ichabod, making him jump.
Ichabod gingerly lifts the front cover-revealing a page of ink
writing, which he will remember later-then he snaps out of all this
“nonsense.”
ICHABOD
Reverend Steenwyck… gentlemen…
murder needs no ghost come from the
grave. Which of you have laid eyes
on this Headless Horsemen?
Pause.
HARDENBROOK
Others have. Many others.
Ichabod allows himself a skeptical smile.
BALTUS
You will see him too if he comes
again. The men of the village are
posted to watch for him.
ICHABOD
We have murders in New York without
benefit of ghouls and goblins.
BALTUS
You are a long way from New York,
sir.
ICHABOD
A century at least. The assassin is
a man of flesh and blood, and I will
discover him.
STEENWYCK
How do you propose to do so?
ICHABOD
By discovering his reason. It is
what we call “the motive.” This
mystery will not resist
investigation by a Rational Man.
Ichabod’s natural clumsiness, however, causes him to sweep his empty
glass off the table, rather ruining the effect of the Rational Man in
command of the situation.
INT. VAN TASSEL HOUSE, KATRINA’S ROOM-NIGHT
Katrina is sitting in front of her mirror. Lady Van Tassel is brushing
out Katrina’s hair, counting the strokes.
KATRINA
Well, I’m disappointed… our first
visitor from New York…
There is a knock.
KATRINA (CONT’D)
He doesn’t know where to put himself
and his feet are all over the place.
Lady Van Tassel gives Katrina the hairbrush and goes to the door.
LADY VAN TASSEL
Yes, not like your Brom. Go on
brushing, I got to forty-two…
She opens the door to Sarah.
SARAH
That constable, he wants the Bible,
Mum…
LADY VAN TASSEL
Bible… ?
KATRINA
I’ll bring it to him.
Sarah dips a curtsy and goes. Lady Van Tassel gives Katrina a friendly
raised eyebrow.
KATRINA (CONT’D)
(meeting her eye,
explains)
We’ll see if his city talk fits him
better than his clothes.
INT. VAN TASSEL HOUSE, ICHABOD’S ROOM-NIGHT
Ichabod sits surrounded by his books, including his Ledger. Clearly
there has been no breakthrough. Ichabod broods. There is a knock at
the door, which he seems to have been expecting, for he does not turn
around.
ICHABOD
Yes-yes-come in.
Katrina enters carrying the Bible.
ICHABOD (CONT’D)
(not turning)
Thank you, just leave it on the
reading stand.
Katrina puts down the Bible as directed.
ICHABOD (CONT’D)
That will be all-no, tell me,
about that big brute who seems to be
Miss Katrina’s-
He has turned in his chair, too late, and sees Katrina-Ichabod has
a minor convulsion, standing up, knocking papers to the floor, etc.
ICHABOD (CONT’D)
Forgive me, I… I asked Sarah to
bring me…
KATRINA
(amused, relaxed)
So your clever books have failed you
and you turn to the Bible after all!
ICHABOD
(sharply, despite
himself)
I see I am talked about downstairs.
KATRINA
In passing only-we have many
things to talk about even in this
backward place.
ICHABOD
I am sorry… Please excuse my
manner-I am not used to…
KATRINA
Female company?
ICHABOD
Society.
KATRINA
How can you avoid society in New
York? How I should love the opera- and theaters-to go dancing… Is
it wonderful?
ICHABOD
I have never been.
KATRINA
But there is an art museum? -a
concert hall?
ICHABOD
I don’t know.
KATRINA
(disappointed)
Then you have nothing to teach me.
ICHABOD
Perhaps I have. Do you believe the
Van Garretts and the Widow Winship
were murdered by a headless
horseman?
KATRINA
Not everyone here believes it is the
Horseman.
ICHABOD
(relieved)
Good.
KATRINA
Some say it is the witch of the
Western Woods who has made a pact
with Lucifer.
ICHABOD
(exasperated)
There are no witches, or galloping
ghosts either! Is everyone in this
village in thrall to superstition?
KATRINA
Why are you so frightened of magic?
Not all magic is black. There are
ancient truths in these woods which
have been forgotten in your city
parks.
ICHABOD
If they are truths they are not
magic-and if magic, not truth.
KATRINA
You are foolish. When there is fever
in the house, it is well known that
willow-herb roots and a crow’s foot
must be boiled in the milk of a pure
white goat with special charms
uttered over the fire… and the
fever abates.
ICHABOD
Next time try the herb without the
rest-and now I must ask you- excuse me-
KATRINA
Gladly. I should not have interrupted
our town’s savior. Good night. And
as to your first question, that big
brute you were asking about has
proposed to me.
ICHABOD
I… I… I’m happy that…
KATRINA
Proposed to me several times.
This ambiguous statement, accompanied by a faint smile, confuses
Ichabod into silence as she closes the door behind her. He turns with
relief to the next business-the Bible. He opens the front cover. On
the endpaper is a Family Tree going back a hundred years, in variously
faded inks and handwritings.
Ichabod studies it and we see what he learns: that Katrina was born in
1777… to Baltus’s first wife, who died in 1797… that Lady Van Tassel
is Baltus’s second wife (her maiden name is unimportant, because
false)… Then he suddenly notices something even more interesting:
The family tree has a “Van Garrett” in it-the husband of Baltus’s
father’s sister.
ICHABOD
(mutters)
Van Garrett… !
Ichabod looks thoughtful. He starts copying out details into his
Ledger.
A very faint rumbling disturbs him for a moment. He looks up. Silence
now. He continues working.
EXT. SLEEPY HOLLOW-NIGHT
The empty street.
Then the low sinister sound of rumbling is heard again.
EXT. WOODEN BUNKER / FIELD-INTERCUT-NIGHT
The distant SOUND of the GROUND RUMBLING is HEARD. AT THE WOODEN
BUNKER, Jonathan looks out, fearful…
The torches burn bright along the forest line. SEVERAL DEER stampede
out… sprinting across the field.
Jonathan watches the forest. A horrible, SILENT stillness has fallen.
Then, Jonathan’s eyes widen…
A thick FOG creeps from the woods.
As fog overtakes each torch, mist snakes up, snuffing each flame… one
by one by one, all along the forest edge…
Jonathan sticks his rifle out from the bunker, sights the gun along
the treeline.
JONATHAN
Come out, devil… come…
EXT. SLEEPY HOLLOW FORESTS, OVERVIEW-NIGHT
Silhouetted treetops. The SOUNDS of JONATHAN’S RIFLE FIRING are HEARD,
echoing-SEVERAL GUNSHOTS, then… SILENCE…
EXT. SLEEPY HOLLOW FOREST-NIGHT
Jonathan flees through the forest, glances back, terrified. THUNDEROUS
HOOFBEATS are HEARD from behind.
DEEP IN THE FOREST, we GLIMPSE the source of the HOOFBEATS: a HUGE
FORM on a HUGE BLACK HORSE, already gone.
Jonathan pushes through thorny bushes. Jagged branches bloody his
hands and cheeks…
He bursts from the brier patch and TUMBLES to a TRAIL.
IN THE FOREST BEHIND: The hooves of the black horse rip underbrush.
HOOFBEATS DEAFENING. A spur digs into the snorting steed’s already
bleeding flank.
The pursuer’s gloved hand draws a SWORD, blade RINGING.
ON THE TRAIL, Jonathan runs onward. The shrill WHISTLE of a SWORD
SWING is HEARD as the pursuer BLURS PAST…
Jonathan is still running when his head lolls back, at an impossible
angle… his head tumbles off his shoulders…
Jonathan’s headless body hits the dirt.
EXT. SLEEPY HOLLOW-DAY (EARLY MORNING)
People going about their business calmly. A WOMAN shakes out a blanket
from an upper window. The murder has obviously not been discovered
yet.
No one notices that the WOODEN BUNKER is deserted… and now has a gap
of shattered timber.
EXT/INT. LIVERY STABLE-DAY (EARLY MORNING)
The stables belong to KILLIAN, a dashingly rustic man, father of a
young family. Ichabod likes him… though he does not think much of the
Horse Killian is offering him, an old nag. Ichabod has a big satchel.
KILLIAN
His name’s Gunpowder.
ICHABOD
A brave name, but… have you got
something a little younger?…
Taller?
KILLIAN
(apparently getting it)
Faster.
ICHABOD
Yes.
KILLIAN
A horse cut to dash.
ICHABOD
Yes.
KILLIAN
No, I haven’t.
ICHABOD
Oh.
KILLIAN
Not at the price.
ICHABOD
Well… I’m sure he’ll do very well.
Thank you, Mr. Killian.
KILLIAN
Good luck, sir. If you need help,
call my name.
ICHABOD
Much appreciated.
Killian’s son Thomas, a small boy, is feeding one of the horses.
ANGLE ON Mrs. KILLIAN at the door of the Killian House. She is in the
act of seeing a woman out of her door, a PREGNANT WOMAN, and handing
her a bunch of herbs.
CLOSER
BETH
(to Pregnant Woman)
Mind you rub them well in the
breech, Mrs. Sherry-don’t worry,
it’ll be easy as shelling peas.
As the Pregnant Woman leaves, Beth bawls over her shoulder, turning to
go into the house.
BETH (CONT’D)
Thomas! -It’s you I want!
Beth goes into the house, passing a modest notice on the door: “Knock
before entering-Elizabeth Killian, MIDWIFE”
KILLIAN
(to Thomas)
Go off home for your breakfast, Tom
-kiss your mother once for you and
twice for me.
As the boy goes, Ichabod has a thought.
ICHABOD
Mr. Killian, I was thinking… about
the old widow…
KILLIAN
Old Widow?
ICHABOD
Widow Winship.
KILLIAN
Who told you she was old? She was
comely. Widowed young and dead
before the bloom was off her.
Ichabod is surprised. Before he can react further, a distant gunshot
is heard-a signal followed by the distant sight of a man on
horseback, hurrying and shouting, waving his rifle. It’s clear that
Masbath’s murder has been discovered. Killian and Ichabod watch the
Rider coming, telling the news as he comes.
RIDER
(shouting)
Murder, murder! The Horseman has
killed again!
EXT. SLEEPY HOLLOW FARMLAND-DAY
Riders are galloping across the fields toward the murder site.
Baltus, a Dullardly Man called VAN RIPPER, who was the original Rider
who found the body… followed by Brom, and a gig driven fast by
Philipse, and Doctor Lancaster and various villagers.
Way behind, trying to keep up on Gunpowder, comes Ichabod.
EXT. FOREST, MASBATH MURDER SITE-MORNING
Baltus takes charge of posting armed villagers to keep an eye out
toward the forest.
BALTUS
Mr. Miller-ride back for the
coffin cart-the rest of you keep
a sharp lookout.
(to GLEN)
No-not at me, Glen, I’m not going
to cut my own head off! -Look out
to the woods!
Ichabod hasn’t quite arrived. The others are watching as Doctor
Lancaster turns over the headless corpse of Masbath. He straightens
the body reverently. Everyone is shocked and spooked, looking
fearfully around. Behind them-a sound. Everyone reacts but it’s
Ichabod arriving.
BROM
(laughs)
A fine looking animal, Crane.
Ichabod dismounts, ignoring Brom. The great Detective is trying to
cover up his jitters. New York was never like this.
DOCTOR LANCASTER
The fourth victim, Jonathan Masbath.
ICHABOD
And… the head… ?
PHILIPSE
Taken.
ICHABOD
Taken!
Doctor Lancaster seems unprofessionally jittery. He grasps Philipse by
the arm. Philipse shakes him off and pulls out a flask. Ichabod
notices this. Their behavior seems to him to be an odd moment. Then he
turns his attention back to the matter at hand.
ICHABOD (CONT’D)
Interesting… very interesting.
BALTUS
What is?
ICHABOD
In headless corpse cases of this
sort… the head is removed to
prevent identification of the body.
BALTUS
(puzzled)
But we know this is Jonathan
Masbath…
ICHABOD
Exactly! So, why was the head
removed?
They all wait for enlightenment.
BALTUS
Why?
ICHABOD
I don’t know.
They all watch Ichabod to see what he will do. Philipse takes nips
from his flask. But Ichabod isn’t sure. He isn’t too keen on looking
at the corpse. Then he realizes:
ICHABOD (CONT’D)
You have moved the body?
DOCTOR LANCASTER
I did.
ICHABOD
(furious)
You must never move the body!
DOCTOR LANCASTER
Why not?
ICHABOD
Because!
Despite themselves, they are impressed. Ichabod takes heart.
Ichabod finds a huge, deep HOOFPRINT. He kneels, pulls his satchel off
his shoulder, takes out a BOWL, BOTTLE of WATER and a BAG of POWDER.
The others watch, finding this bizarre, as Ichabod begins mixing the
water and powder, making plaster.
BROM
What is that potion?
ICHABOD
You are the blacksmith, Brom. Ever
shoe a horse with a hoof this large?
Ichabod fills the print with runny plaster.
BROM
(grudging the point)
It’s big.
Ichabod shoulders his satchel, walks all around, studies the ground,
kicks away leaves… and then lopes around puzzlingly. The watchers are
astonished by his antics as he leaps from hoofprint to hoofprint.
DOCTOR LANCASTER
(to Philipse)
The man’s a fool.
PHILLIPSE
(drunk)
He’s a fool and we’re damn fools- but death will make us all equal.
Doctor Lancaster impatiently hushes him and turns away.
ICHABOD
The stride is gigantic…
Ichabod stops, turns, following back to way he came…
ICHABOD (CONT’D)
The attacker rode Masbath down…
turned his horse… came back…
(stops leaping)
Came back to claim the head.
He pauses to sum up.
ICHABOD (CONT’D)
To sum up. Head taken. Big horse.
(beat)
Did this man have any enemies?
PHILIPSE
Well, someone didn’t like him.
But Ichabod has already latched on to something.
ICHABOD
Van Ripper, show me where the neck
rested.
Van Ripper points. Ichabod opens his satchel, takes out a BOTTLE OF
GREEN POWDER.
He uncorks the bottle, sprinkles a thin layer of powder on the dirt,
waiting.
A reaction causes the powder to bubble a little.
ICHABOD (CONT’D)
A chemical reaction, it shows there
was just a smear of blood, no more.
VAN RIPPER
I didn’t see none.
Ichabod’s puzzled.
Ichabod swallows, queasy, trying not to let it show.
Ichabod takes odd spectacles from his satchel, wire-framed with many
lenses: MAGNIFICATION SPECTACLES. He fumbles putting them on,
examines the gross neck wound.
Ichabod takes an INSTRUMENT from his satchel, a delicate SCISSOR
MECHANISM TOOL that tapes off into tiny jaws. He uses it, hand
shaking, to pick at the flesh.
POV through Ichabod’s magnifying spectacles: a CREEPY CRAWLY BUG is
feeding on the wound. Ichabod freaks, leaps up.
ICHABOD
(recovering, faking)
Interesting…
BALTUS
What is it? -What is it?!
Squinting sidelong at the ground, Ichabod uses his foot to squash and
grind the bug, which is too small to be visible.
He looks at Baltus, his eyes huge in his spectacles.
ICHABOD
The wound was cauterized in the very
instant… as though the blade itself
were red hot… and yet, no
blistering, no scorched flesh.
They all look worried.
PHILIPSE
The Devil’s fire!
Ichabod looks worried too.
