According to Irving "Sunnyside" was once the property of old Baltus Van Ta.s.sel, and here lived the fair Katrina, beloved by all the youths of the neighborhood, but more especially by Ichabod Crane, the country school-master, and a reckless youth by the name of Van Brunt. Irving tells us that he thought out the story one morning on London Bridge, and went home and completed it in thirty-six hours. The character of Ichabod Crane was a sketch of a young man whom he met at Kinderhook when writing his Knickerbocker history. It will be remembered that Ichabod Crane went to a quilting-bee at the home of Mynheer Van Ta.s.sel, and, after the repast, was regaled with various ghost stories peculiar to the locality. When the "party" was over he lingered for a time with the fair Katrina, but sallied out soon after with an air quite desolate and chop-fallen. The night grew darker and darker. He had never before felt so lonesome and miserable. As he pa.s.sed the fatal tree where Arnold was captured, there started up before him the identical "Headless Horseman" to whom he had been introduced by the story of Brom Bones. Nay, not entirely headless; for the head which "should have rested upon his shoulders was carried before him on the pommel of the saddle. His terror rose to desperation. He rode for death and life. The strange horseman sped beside him at an equal pace.

He fell into a walk. The strange horseman did the same. He endeavored to sing a psalm-tune, but his tongue clove to the roof of his mouth.

If he could but reach the bridge Ichabod thought he would be safe.

Away then he flew in rapid flight. He reached the bridge, he thundered over the resounding planks. Then he saw the goblin rising in his stirrups, and in the very act of launching his head at him. It encountered his cranium with a tremendous crash. He was tumbled headlong into the dirt, and the black steed and the spectral rider pa.s.sed by like a whirlwind. The next day tracks of horses deeply dented in the road were traced to the bridge, beyond which, on the bank of a broad part of the brook, where the water ran deep and black, was found the hat of the unfortunate Ichabod, and close beside it a shattered pumpkin." All honor to him who fills this working-day world with humor, romance and beauty!

I beg you will have the kindness to let me know when Mr. Irving takes pen in hand again; for a.s.suredly I shall expect a very great treat which I may chance never to hear of but through your kindness.

_Walter Scott._

I want to visit Washington Irving, I want to see your stupendous scenery, I want to go to the grave of Washington.

_Lord Byron._

=Lyndehurst=, Helen M. Gould's residence. A short distance north of "Sunnyside" is the home of Helen M. Gould, whose modest and liberal use of wealth in n.o.ble charities has endeared her to every American heart. The place was first known as the Paulding Manor House, where William Paulding, early mayor of New York, and nephew of one of the captors of Andre had his country home. It is a beautiful specimen of old time English architecture, with a suggestion, as some writers have noted, of Newstead Abbey. This part of the Hudson is particularly rich in beautiful residences, rising tier upon tier from the river to the horizon. Albert Bierstadt, the artist, had here a beautiful home, unfortunately burned many years ago.

=The Old Post Road= from New York to Albany is in many particulars the richest and greatest highway of our country.

=Tappan.=--Almost opposite Irvington about two miles southwest of Piermont, is old Tappantown, where Major Andre was executed October 2, 1780. The removal of his body from Tappan to Westminster was by a special British ship, and a singular incident was connected with it.

The roots of a cypress tree were found entwined about his skull and a scion from the tree was carried to England and planted in the garden adjoining Windsor Palace. It is a still more curious fact that the tree beneath which Andre was captured was struck by lightning on the day of Benedict Arnold's death in London. Further reference will be made to Andre in our description of Tarrytown, and also of Haverstraw, where Arnold and Andre met at the house of Joshua Hett Smith.

=Tarrytown=, 26 miles from New York. It was here on the Old Post Road, now called Broadway, a little north of the village, that Andre was captured and Arnold's treachery exposed. A monument erected on the spot by the people of Westchester County, October 7, 1853, bears the inscription:

ON THIS SPOT, THE 23D DAY OF SEPTEMBER, 1780, THE SPY, MAJOR JOHN ANDRE, Adjutant-General of the British Army, was captured by JOHN PAULDING, DAVID WILLIAMS, AND ISAAC VAN WART.

ALL NATIVES OF THIS COUNTY.

History has told the rest.

The following quaint ballad-verses on the young hero give a realistic touch to one of the most providential occurrences in our history:

He with a scouting party Went down to Tarrytown, Where he met a British officer, A man of high renown, Who says unto these gentlemen, "You're of the British cheer, I trust that you can tell me If there's any danger near?"

Then up stept this young hero, John Paulding was his name, "Sir, tell us where you're going And also whence you came?"

"I bear the British flag, sir; I've a pa.s.s to go this way, I'm on an expedition, And have no time to stay."

Young Paulding, however, thought that he had plenty of time to linger until he examined his boots, wherein he found the papers, and, when offered ten guineas by Andre, if he would allow him to pursue his journey, replied: "If it were ten thousand guineas you could not stir one step."

The centennial anniversary of the event was commemorated in 1880 by placing, through the generosity of John Anderson, on the original obelisk of 1853, a large statue representing John Paulding as a minute man.

That overruling Providence which has so often and so remarkably interposed in our favor, never manifested itself more conspicuously than in the timely discovery of Arnold's treachery.

_George Washington._

Tarrytown was the very heart of the debatable ground of the Revolution and many striking incidents mark its early history. In 1777 Vaughan's troops landed here on their way to attack Fort Montgomery, and here a party of Americans, under Major Hunt, surprised a number of British refugees while playing cards at the Van Ta.s.sel tavern. The major completely "turned the cards" upon them by rushing in with brandished stick, which he brought down with emphasis upon the table, remarking with genuine American brevity, "Gentlemen, clubs are trumps." Here, too, according to Irving, arose the two great orders of chivalry, the "Cow Boys" and "Skinners." The former fought, or rather marauded under the American, the latter under the British banner; the former were known as "Highlanders," the latter as the "Lower-Party." In the zeal of service both were apt to make blunders, and confound the property of friend and foe. "Neither of them, in the heat and hurry of a foray, had time to ascertain the politics of a horse or cow which they were driving off into captivity, nor when they wrung the neck of a rooster did they trouble their heads whether he crowed for Congress or King George."

It was also a genial, reposeful country for the faithful historian, Diedrich Knickerbocker; and here he picked up many of those legends which were given by him to the world. One of these was the legend connected with the old Dutch Church of Sleepy Hollow. "A drowsy, dreamy influence seems to hang over the land, and to pervade the very atmosphere. Some say the place was bewitched by a high German doctor during the early days of the settlement; others that an old Indian chief, the wizard of his tribe, held his pow-wows there before Hendrick Hudson's discovery of the river. The dominant spirit, however, that haunts this enchanted region, is the apparition of a figure on horse-back, without a head, said to be the ghost of a Hessian trooper, and was known at all the country firesides as the 'Headless horseman' of Sleepy Hollow."

O waters of Pocantico!

Wild rivulet of wood and glen!

May thy glad laughter, sweet and low, Long, long outlive the sighs of men.

_S. H. Thayer._

[Ill.u.s.tration: SLEEPY HOLLOW CHURCH.]

=Sleepy Hollow.=--The Old Dutch Church, the oldest on the Hudson, is about one-half mile north from Tarrytown.

It was built by "Frederick Filipse and his wife Katrina Van Cortland in 1690." The material is partly of stone and partly of brick brought from Holland. It stands as an appropriate sentinel near the entrance to the burial-yard where Irving sleeps. After entering the gate our way leads past the graves of the Ackers, the Van Ta.s.sels, and the Van Warts, with inscriptions and plump Dutch cherubs on every side that often delighted the heart of Diedrich Knickerbocker. How many worshippers since that November day in 1859, have come hither with reverent footsteps to read on the plain slab this simple inscription: "Washington Irving, born April 3, 1783. Died November 28, 1859," and recall Longfellow's beautiful lines:

"Here lies the gentle humorist, who died In the bright Indian Summer of his fame.

A simple stone, with but a date and name, Marks his secluded resting place beside The river that he loved and glorified.

Here in the Autumn of his days he came, But the dry leaves of life were all aflame With tints that brightened and were multiplied.

How sweet a life was his, how sweet a death; Living to wing with mirth the weary hours, Or with romantic tales the heart to cheer; Dying to leave a memory like the breath Of Summers full of sunshine and of showers, A grief and gladness in the atmosphere."

If ever I should wish for a retreat whither I might steal from the world and its distractions, and dream quietly away the remnant of a troubled life, I know of none more promising than this little valley.

_Washington Irving._

Sleepy Hollow Church, like Sunnyside, is hidden away from the steamer tourist by summer foliage. Just before reaching Kingston Point light-house, a view, looking northeast up the little bay to the right, will sometimes give the outline of the building. Beyond this a tall granite shaft, erected by the Delavan family, is generally quite distinctly seen, and this is near the grave of Irving. A light-house, built in 1883, marks the point where the Pocantico or Sleepy Hollow Creek joins the Hudson:

Pocantico's hushed waters glide Through Sleepy Hollow's haunted ground, And whisper to the listening tide The name carved o'er one lowly mound.

To one loving our early history and legends there is no spot more central or delightful than Tarrytown. Irving humorously says that Tarrytown took its name from husbands tarrying too late at the village tavern, but its real derivation is Tarwen-Dorp, or Wheat-town. The name of the old Indian village at this point was Alipconck (the place of elms). It has often occurred to the writer that, more than any other river, the Hudson has a distinct personality, and also that the four main divisions of human life are particularly marked in the Adirondacks, the Catskills, the Highlands and Tappan Bay:

The Adirondacks, childhood's glee; The Catskills, youth with dreams o'ercast; The Highlands, manhood bold and free; The Tappan Zee, age come at last.

This was the spot that Irving loved; we linger by his grave at Sleepy Hollow with devotion; we sit upon his porch at Sunnyside with reverence:

Thrice blest and happy Tappan Zee, Whose banks along thy glistening tide Have legend, truth, and poetry Sweetly expressed in Sunnyside!