So there I was in Sleepy Hollow, New York — officially the sleepiest and creepiest town name in America, beating out such strong contenders as Deadman’s Gulch, Montana and Dismal Seepage, Ohio (I may have made that last one up) — investigating a werewolf rumor while staying at a place called the Headless Horseman Inn. Yes, I live an interesting life. My mom agrees, though she doesn’t approve.
For those who don’t know the story, here’s the setup:
Washington Irving’s “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow” features Ichabod Crane — the local schoolmaster, a tall, lanky man who believed strongly in all things supernatural, including the legend of the Headless Horseman.
In Hebrew, Ichabod means “no glory” or “the glory has departed.” For sure, a rider without a head is definitely more gory than glory and it’s a good bet his spirit has departed — though I’ll admit I can’t tell a jot from a tittle of Hebrew.
Crane had his eye on a wealthy heiress named Katrina Van Tassel. So did a local tough named Brom Bones, who was not thrilled about the competition. One Halloween night, riding home alone through the dark woods, Ichabod encountered what appeared to be a headless rider on a massive black horse, who chased him with a sword and a burning pumpkin, hurling it straight at his head. By morning, all that remained was Ichabod’s hat next to a shattered pumpkin. Crane was never seen in Sleepy Hollow again.
Irving published that story in 1820. Hollywood ran with it for the next two hundred years, because Hollywood, when it finds something terrifying, will not rest until it has made seventeen sequels, a reboot, and a limited series starring someone from a previous limited series.
Headless characters have been in quite a few movies and television shows — one being the restless ghost of a Hessian soldier decapitated by a cannonball during the American Revolution, now roaming the battlefield each night in search of his severed head. As it turns out, characters who stand head and shoulders below others have staying power. Also, they are very easy to costume. (No facial makeup required.)
The Bible is full of individuals who woke up in the morning with their head on straight and by dusk had their hats gifted to Goodwill.
Goliath is one. After struck by a rock — and not at a Stones concert — Goliath lost his head to David. David, using Goliath’s sword, was a statement. A very large, very “severed” statement. Historians note this was also the last time anyone brought a sling to a sword fight and won, which is why you don’t see it much anymore.
After Saul’s death in battle, the Philistines cut off Saul’s head and displayed it as a trophy. Same idea, opposite team. This is what scholars call Unfortunate Symmetry.
Two wicked men killed Ish-bosheth — one of Saul’s remaining sons — and beheaded him. The pair brought the head to David, thinking they’d receive a reward. Instead, David had them executed and, in a way pirates might, he buried Ish-bosheth’s head.
The lesson here, and I cannot stress this enough, is: Know Your Audience.
In another case, in order to save their city, the people of Abel of Beth-maacah acted on the advice of a wise woman and cut off the head of a rebel named Sheba son of Bichri, pitching it over the wall to the general Joab. Joab accepted this and left. Problem solved, if not elegantly. This remains the most effective HOA dispute resolution on record.
Then there’s the scene that honestly sounds like something out of a horror film. Jehu sent letters to the seventy sons of King Ahab demanding their heads. The men of the city slaughtered all seventy princes and put their heads in baskets, sending them to Jehu in Jezreel. When the messenger arrived, Jehu ordered the heads placed in two piles at the entrance of the city gate until morning. Seventy heads. Two piles. City gates. We can only assume this did not help tourism.
And then there is Herod Antipas, who had John the Baptist imprisoned because John had publicly condemned Herod for divorcing his first wife and unlawfully taking his brother’s wife, Herodias. Then he ordered John beheaded. Ancient history is full of people you would not want to have brunch with.
The book of Revelation even speaks of those who were beheaded for their witness to Jesus and for speaking God’s word to those who refused to listen.
So, standing on a bridge in the state park, a stone’s throw from where Crane met his fate — with the wind in the trees and a full moon overhead — I was reminded that Hollywood didn’t invent this barbaric character, this headless rider. They found it, perhaps, in the oldest book in the world.
So the next time someone says, “Heads will roll,” keep in mind that in times past they have. Frequently. A few were gathered in baskets.
My main point: When all about you are losing their head… DUCK!
Nick Caden, reporter for the Cool Ghoul Gazette.