Legend of Rip Van Winkle
The tale of Rip Van Winkle, a cornerstone of American folklore, has permeated various artistic mediums, solidifying its place in the nation’s cultural consciousness. From Washington Irving’s original short story to theatrical adaptations, musical scores, and visual interpretations, the legend has captivated audiences for generations. This enduring narrative, often regarded as one of America’s most cherished legends, presents a compelling blend of reality and fantasy, inviting us to ponder themes of time, change, and identity.
The character of Rip Van Winkle, as depicted in these various adaptations, is an archetypal figure: a good-natured but indolent man seeking respite from the demands of domestic life. This protagonist, according to some accounts, was based on a real personage, part of the Van Winkle family that held a prominent position in their community. The story places Rip’s fateful slumber in 1769, within the tranquil setting of Catskill, New York.
To escape the nagging of his wife, a character often portrayed as a shrew, Rip frequently retreated to the solitude of the Catskill Mountains. Accompanied by his loyal dog and trusty gun, he would venture nine miles westward, seeking solace in the rugged landscape. There, he would while away the hours, either hunting or simply relaxing, succumbing to whatever whim seized him. It was during one such excursion, on a September evening on South Mountain, that Rip’s life took an extraordinary turn.
The encounter that set the stage for Rip’s legendary sleep involved a peculiar figure, a stout and taciturn man of considerable girth. This man’s appearance was striking: a round head adorned with a steeple hat, a belted coat with petticoat trousers meeting heavy boots, and a face of an unsettling pallor. Witnesses have described the figure’s face as green and ghastly, with unblinking eyes that glimmered in the twilight, evoking an otherworldly presence. The dwarf carried a keg, and through gestures, he communicated his desire for Rip to assist him. Ever the obliging fellow, Rip shouldered the keg and accompanied the silent man further up the mountain.
As darkness descended, the pair arrived at a secluded plateau. Here, Rip witnessed a gathering of men dressed in antiquated garb, their faces bearing a striking resemblance to his guide, equally expressionless and still. In an atmosphere of solemnity, these figures engaged in a game of bowls, the balls occasionally veering off the plateau’s edge, creating a thunderous rumble as they cascaded down the rocks. A cloaked figure with a snowy beard, observing from a distance, turned to regard Rip with an unsettling gaze as he stumbled into their midst.
Initially, Rip felt an urge to flee, but the piercing stares of the assembled figures held him captive. He was relieved when they gestured for him to tap the keg and partake in their brew, which he recognized as the finest schnapps he had ever tasted, surpassing even the most renowned brands in Catskill. While the strange men remained stoic and reserved, Rip found himself enveloped in a comforting warmth. Eventually, overcome by drowsiness, he rested his head upon a stone, stretched out his weary limbs, and drifted into a deep slumber.
The awakening was gradual. Sunlight filtered through the canopy, casting dappled shadows upon the ground. Rip stirred, his body stiff and aching. Reaching for his gun, he discovered that the once-trusty implement had succumbed to decay, crumbling into fragments in his hands. Looking down, he was further dismayed to find his clothes in tatters, hanging loosely upon his frame, while a long, white beard cascaded over his chest. Bewildered and alarmed, he shook his head, attempting to recall the events of the previous night. The carouse with the silent figures remained vivid in his memory. With a heavy heart, he hobbled down the mountain, his joints protesting with each step, as rheumatism had taken hold in his knees and elbows.
Upon reaching his native village, Rip was met with an unsettling scene. Could this truly be Catskill? The village seemed transformed, with unfamiliar buildings and altered streets. Where were his friends, the companions of his youth, the jovial drinkers he had left at the tavern, the dogs that once greeted him with wagging tails? Even his wife, whose sharp tongue and forceful demeanor had often driven him to seek refuge in the mountains, was nowhere to be found.
In place of his familiar home, Rip found only an overgrown yard, a ruined foundation wall – his house was gone. The villagers, strangers to him, mocked his disheveled appearance, his matted hair and beard, his tattered clothes, and his bewildered expression. Instinctively, he sought out the familiar comfort of the tavern, but even this landmark had undergone a transformation. The sign depicting King George III had been replaced by an image of an officer in blue regimentals and a cocked hat, labeled "General Washington."
A crowd of onlookers gathered, their faces unfamiliar and their manners impolite. Despite his apprehension, Rip ventured to inquire about his friends, but his questions were met with confusion and disbelief. He realized that a significant amount of time had passed, and the world he once knew had vanished. He was, in essence, a man out of time. This is the defining moment in the story of Legend of Rip Van Winkle.
Rip’s story, however, didn’t end there. He had a tale to tell, a tale of serving as a cup-bearer to the ghostly crew of the Half Moon, of sharing a drink with none other than Henry Hudson himself. Some believe that Hudson’s spirit still lingers in the Catskill Mountains, forever gazing upon the valley he discovered. Others maintain that every twenty years, Hudson and his crew gather in the mountains to revel in their shared memories. The liquor they consume on these nights possesses a peculiar enchantment, casting any mortal who dares to taste it into a deep slumber, from which they will not awaken until the crew’s next gathering.
As one ascends the eastern slopes of the Catskills via the old carriage road, they will encounter the stone upon which Legend of Rip Van Winkle slept. Some claim to discern the faint outline of his form imprinted upon the rock. The next ghostly revelry is said to be in 1909, with a warning to all who find themselves in the Catskill Mountains during that September to beware of accepting drinks from strangers.
This rendition of the tale, penned by Charles M. Skinner in 1896, draws upon Washington Irving’s original short story, published in 1819. Despite the story’s Catskill Mountain setting, Irving himself confessed to never having visited the region at the time of writing. The Legend of Rip Van Winkle quickly gained popularity, inspiring theatrical productions, songs, children’s books, and numerous retellings, including Skinner’s adaptation.
Charles M. Skinner (1852-1907) was the author of the comprehensive nine-volume series, Myths and Legends of Our Own Land, published in 1896. His version of the Legend of Rip Van Winkle is derived from these works, adapted for a contemporary audience.
Poem By George P. Webster, 1880
The poem by George P. Webster, which was later turned into a children’s book, offers a concise and charming summary of the Legend of Rip Van Winkle.
Near to the town, in a cottage small,
Lived Rip Van Winkle, known to all
As a harmless, drinking, shiftless lout,
Who never would work, but roamed about,
Always ready with jest and song-
Idling, tippling all day long.
The poem captures Rip’s amiable nature, his aversion to work, and his fondness for drink. It also highlights his popularity among the village children, who saw him as a playful companion. However, the poem also acknowledges Rip’s flaws, particularly his drinking habits and his neglect of his family, which led to conflict with his wife.
The poem recounts Rip’s encounter with the mysterious men in the mountains, his consumption of their potent liquor, and his subsequent slumber. It then describes his awakening, his return to the village, and his discovery that twenty years had passed. The poem concludes with Rip’s acceptance of his new reality, his sharing of his story, and his eventual death.
The poem ends on a poignant note, acknowledging the passage of time and the changes that had occurred in the world during Rip’s absence. It serves as a reminder of the ephemeral nature of life and the importance of embracing change. This poem, with its vivid imagery and accessible language, has helped to ensure the enduring popularity of the Legend of Rip Van Winkle among readers of all ages.
George P. Webster, an American author, transformed the above poem into a children’s book published by McLoughlin Bros., Inc. in 1880. Webster also later penned and published the popular children’s book Santa Claus and His Works in 1889. Both books featured illustrations by the renowned artist Thomas Nast.