Sleepy Hollow Shooting Script
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.
