inant spirit, however, that haunts this enchanted region and
seems to be commander-in-chief of all the powers of the air, is the
apparition of a figure on horseback without a head. It is said by some
to be the ghost of a Hessian trooper, whose head had been carried away
by a cannon-ball in some nameless battle during the revolutionary war,
and who is ever and anon seen by the country folk, hurrying along in
the gloom of night, as if on the wings of the wind. His haunts are not
confined to the valley, but extend at times to the adjacent roads, and
especially to the vicinity of a church that is at no great distance.
Indeed, certain of the most authentic historians of those parts, who
have been careful in collecting and collating the floating facts
concerning this specter, allege that, the body of the trooper having
been buried in the churchyard, the ghost rides forth to the scene of
battle in nightly quest of his head, and that the rushing speed with
which he sometimes passes along the hollow like a midnight blast, is
owing to his being belated, and in a hurry to get back to the
churchyard before daybreak.

Such is the general purport of this legendary superstition, which has
furnished materials for many a wild story in that region of shadows,
and the specter is known at all the country firesides by the name of
The Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow.

It is remarkable that the visionary propensity I have mentioned is not
confined to the native inhabitants of the valley, but is unconsciously
imbibed by every one who resides there for a time. However wide awake
they may have been before they entered that sleepy region, they are
sure, in a little time, to inhale the witching influence of the air,
and begin to grow imaginative--to dream dreams and see apparitions.

I mention this peaceful spot with all possible laud; for it is in such
little retired Dutch valleys, found here and there embosomed in the
great State of New York, that population, manners and customs remain
fixed, while the great torrent of migration and improvement, which is
making such incessant changes in other parts of this restless country,
sweeps by them unobserved. They are like those little nooks of still
water which border a rapid stream, where we may see the straw and
bubble riding quietly at anchor, or slowly revolving in their mimic
harbor, undisturbed by the rush of the passing current. Though many
years have elapsed since I trod the drowsy sha