The whole neighborhood abounds with local tales, haunted spots, and twilight superstitions. They are given to all kinds of marvelous beliefs, are subject to trances and visions, and frequently hear music and voices in the air. Certain it is, the place still continues under the sway of some witching power that holds a spell over the minds of the descendants of the original settlers. Some say that the place was bewitched during the early days of the Dutch settlement others, that an old Indian chief, the wizard of his tribe, held his powwows there before the country was discovered by Master Hendrick Hudson. A small brook murmurs through it and, with the occasional whistle of a quail or tapping of a woodpecker, is almost the only sound that ever breaks the uniform tranquillity.įrom the listless repose of the place, this sequestered glen has long been known by the name of Sleepy Hollow. Not far from this village, perhaps about two miles, there is a little valley among high hills which is one of the quietest places in the whole world. This name was given by the good housewives of the adjacent country from the inveterate propensity of their husbands to linger about the village tavern on market days. In the bosom of one of those spacious coves which indent the eastern shore of the Hudson, at that broad expansion of the river denominated by the ancient Dutch navigators the Tappan Zee, and where they always prudently shortened sail and implored the protection of Saint Nicholas, there lies a small market town which is generally known by the name of Tarry Town.
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