She decided to make her next stop the Eastern Massachusetts Museum of History, a small private museum known locally simply as the History Museum.
She hurried along the pedestrian mall and turned onto the side street where the museum was located. As soon as she rounded the corner, she saw the big sign that read History! Just History, and Nothing More!
Strangely enough, the museum was actually owned by out-of-state businessmen, but her friend Daniel was the manager, and he had put together a staff of full-and part-timers who all knew and loved the area, and its history and legends.
She was disappointed to find that Daniel wasn’t in, but June Eagle, a junior at Salem College, was there, sitting behind the desk and reading a magazine.
“Hey, Rowenna, I heard you were home,” June said, dropping her celebrity tell-all and getting to her feet. She walked around the counter to give Rowenna a quick hug. Her eyes were sparkling. “I heard you’re going to be harvest queen this year.”
“The rewards of being born in the area,” Rowenna said, hugging her back.
“I think it’s more than that. I think you really are our local queen,” June teased. “So what brings you here?” she asked, and then her smile faded. “Oh. It’s the body in the cornfield, isn’t it? I’m so sorry—they say you found it. I can’t believe something like that could happen around here. I mean, closer to Boston, maybe, but here…?”
“There aren’t any cornfields closer to Boston,” Rowenna pointed out.
“I have to admit, I’m frightened.” June shuddered visibly. “So…what can I help you with?”
“I want to look up some of the old legends—specifically the Harvest Man,” Rowenna told her.
“Okay. Hang on and I’ll get you the key for the library,” June said.
Rowenna felt special. Only a privileged few were given the key to the library.
June reached into the desk drawer and found the key, then handed it to Rowenna. “Call me if you need anything,” June said. “Mornings are pretty quiet this time of year. People seem to like coming later in the afternoon. Anyway, I should be studying for my ancient-literature class, but I’m not in the mood. I’ll just be out here delving into the latest exploits of Britney and Bran-gelina.”
“Go for it,” Rowenna told her, and headed back toward the library.
Like so many of the small local museums, the different sections were separated by half walls and heavy drapes. The library was in the back, so Rowenna took her time, enjoying the exhibits as she passed.
The first room was dedicated to the Puritans and showed them gaining a tiny foothold in their new land. One tableau showed them building a town, with the local natives hiding in them. The area was known as Naumkeag to the natives. And although the first Thanksgiving might have been a time of friendship for the settlers in Plymouth, by the time the settlements around Salem were founded, the Puritans were beginning to realize that there were many different tribes, and some of them were warlike. Many of the settlers saw the natives as pagans, the devil’s own brethren. And more than anything, they feared the devil’s work.
She moved on to the display about the witchcraft trials, which covered the situation not just in the New World but in Europe and the rest of the Christian world at the time. Practicing witchcraft was illegal, but the problem was that a person didn’t need to do anything in order to be accused. Fear, delusion, even jealousy, was all the motive necessary. It was difficult to understand how entire societies could fall prey to the resulting hysteria and think that it was salvation, but Salem’s sad history was proof enough that it could happen.
Past the witchcraft exhibit, before she even reached the library, she found what she’d unknowingly been seeking. The aftermath.
First there were tableaus and accompanying explanations regarding the way the scandal had ended. Nothing like accusing the governor’s wife to cause an uproar. And maybe the people were getting sick of the deaths of so many good people, as well. But then, as the witchcraft craze began to end, new fears arose.
And the Harvest Man was born.
She had been through the museum a dozen times before, but now she stopped at the Harvest Man display and really studied it. He was depicted as tall, wearing a flowing dark cape and a headdress of fall leaves. He was also taller and broader than the usual man, though he was human. A painting by a local artist of the early 1700s hung behind the mannequin in the display case. In the painting, the Harvest Man’s cape was decorated with fall leaves to match those on his headdress. His arms were lifted to the sky as he stood in the middle of a field.
A cornfield.
The rows of cornstalks were green and lush, rich with the promise of food for the coming winter.