Curls

It is a story of old and over time has been terribly corrupted by the exaggerations of both amateur story collectors and gossipy women present in nearly all societies. It has taken a lot of effort to put all the facts before my audience. Unfortunately in order to protect the privacy of many illustrious priories, I’ll refrain from mentioning the names of towns and some people.

As it is easier to tell and to understand, I’ll try and take my readers and myself back in time. It was around the year 1683 when the residents of a certain town (that must regretfully remain unnamed) recall the arrival of a certain woman whose name has not been ascertained even over these long years. However, various resources take her to be Madame Bridie and so that’ll be the name used in this manuscript.

Madam Bridie occupied a cottage besides that of Madam Kalwearther’s, a woman famous for her neatness. The houses were modest in appearance and frocked by a wide strip of lawn splattered by bunches of brightly colored flowers and posies. Madam Kalwearther’s property always appeared as though she washed everything from nip to nail three times a day. The priory’s “public service” women kept the other house clean while it was untenanted. When Madam Bridie occupied the place, she took an immediate liking to the only displeasing object on the land. An old mangled tree gently spread its emaciated branches over the wall to Madam Kalwearther’s lawn. Madam’s arrival lead to the slow decay of the house. The lawn overgrew to the extent of wilderness and surprisingly, the old tree sprouted. To the surprise of the town people, everything except the tree dried up and died. The Madam herself was only seen on the monthly market and was only found in the apothecary’s.

Madam’s presence irked her neighbor to the degree of annoyance. The land stunk and the tree shed horrendously. She tried to plead with her to allow her to cut off a few branches but she remained unyielding and was also quite rude. A certain incident took place that lead to an event similar to a witch trial in 1683. a child by the name of Vernet Parker was coming back from Madam Kalwearther’s after cleaning her lawn for the third time that week. His passage back home required him to cross the now decrepit cottage. He ended up at his house screaming and delirious. When brought to his senses after a tisane being forced down his throat, he gave quite a remarkable story. According to him, he had seen Madam Bridie sprinkle ashes of some sort in the roots of the old tree and murmur something in Latin. He managed to repeat half of what he had heard that was soon translated into,

“It is here that ye may rest for ever more, spirit of unrest”

A few years later, in sheer frustration and anger Madam Kalwearther’s sliced off some branches of the tree. She was not as young as before and could not clear up the debris of the tree as often as she’d have liked. That led to Madam Bridie running out of the house, her hair askew and shrieking something in Latin. Madam copied down the words as she remembered them and sent them off to be translated.

Three years later, on a summer morning, the villagers carried Madam Kalwearther’s coffin to the cemetery only to have the wood burst open as though pushed from within. The sexton and the villagers were shocked to discover that the coffin was quite full of heavy curls of Hair. The more they cut, the more it grew and in the end they had to cremate the body. Madam Bridie was burned at the stake on incriminating evidence and since then, the old tree has bloomed and has not been cut since then.

I have the translation of Madam’s curse here:


“And may your coffin be full of curls”