There are certain mythologies that intertwine with a culture, giving its people hope and vision for the future. In these instances, we can see why folk tales are so important. They aren’t just a way to pass the time, but they are blueprints for things to come and a connection to the roots from which we’ve left.
One of these tales that has supported a culture for centuries is the tale of the Czech princesses Libuše and her two sisters Kazi and Tati. This story takes place over 1500 years ago and has no doubt transformed and melded in relation to the times, yet the root of the story stays the same.
One of the earliest documentations of this story comes from Cosmas of Prague, a priest, writer and historian who lived between 1045 and 1125. He chronicled the stories and history of Bohemia in his writings, including that of these three princesses.
It was a time when kingdoms were just starting to emerge from the hamlets and clans of the countryside. This potentially first king to come to power was called Krok. When he came to rule, the old religion was still prominent. Thus, he created schools that taught the pagan ways, hymns, magic and prophecy. Without the demonization brought on by Christianity, magic was seen as the highest form of learning. There was nothing more holy than working with the forces beyond our perception to please the gods.
It was said that Krok ruled fairly, but he never had any sons, only three wise daughters. And for these three daughters, three gifts were bestowed by the gods.
First there was Kazi, a healer who knew all of the healing properties of herbs as well as magical incantations. It was written that Kazi “did not compete with Medea of Colchis in the knowledge of herbs and oracles, nor with Asclepius in the medical art, since she often caused the Judges to stop their unfinished work and made even fate follow her will by magic. That is why even the inhabitants of this country, when something is destroyed and give up hope of ever having it again, have a saying about it “Not even a Kazi can fix it.” In short, she was an expert at her craft.
Next there was princess Teta who was a priestess. She could contact and communicate with spirits. Yet this is just about all we know about this mysterious princess. It is entirely possible that much of her story was erased as the Christian reformation attempted to destroy any semblances of the “darker” arts.
Last there was Libuše, the most famous of the three. Her gift was that of prophecy. She was a seer. The chronicles say that she was once visited by a vision and exclaimed “behold, I see a great city, whose fame will touch the stars”. She instructed where and when this city should be constructed, and from its birth she named it Prague. She foresaw future wars and hardships, but could also assist folks in finding precious metals in the ground. It was Libuše who became queen once the princesses father had passed.
The issue with this was that Libuše was a woman, and most folks were not keen on letting a woman rule their country. Because this type of kingdom was still in its infancy, there was clearly no system that described which male cousin or relative the rulership was to be handed off to in case there were no male heirs. So despite the opposition, Libuše became queen nonetheless.
Being able to see the future helped her become a fair and wise ruler. She would sit under a linden tree in the castle courtyard surrounded by her advisors to hear the people and settle disputes. Yet there were still those who could not accept her rule. There was an old man who was upset that she had settled his dispute in favor of another man and exclaimed:
“What kind of justice can we expect from a woman? Long-haired, but short on brains! Let her sew and spin, but not be a ruler and a judge! Where else does a woman rule over men, except here? We are the laughing-stock among nations, and we cannot stand for such a judge any longer!”
While everyone present was shocked, no one came to Libuše’s defense. She was mortified by not just the outburst, but also the reaction, or lack thereof, from her subjects. So in return she told him:
“You are right! I am a woman, and I rule like a woman, not with a rod of iron, but with compassion, which you take for weakness. You need a stricter ruler, and your demand shall be fulfilled. Go now, in peace!”
If the people did not want her, she would give them what they wanted. So defeated she must have felt. She retreated back to the castle to her most secluded spot within a secret garden. Here stood the gods, Slavic idols carved of wood. She called for her sisters Teta and Kazi and spent the rest of the day worshipping the gods and speaking in hushed tones to each other.
In the morning, she called a meeting amongst her subjects, leaders from far and near, and finally spoke.
“All of you know why I called you together. You did not appreciate the freedom I gave you, so the gods inspired me to tell you that I shall rule you no longer. You want a man, a duke who will take away your children to serve him, who will choose the best of your cattle and horses for taxes according to his whims. You want to serve a master and to pay for it, as so far you have not had to do. In return, you will not have to be ashamed of having a woman ruler. So be it! Go ahead and choose a duke, but do so wisely and carefully, because it is easy to put someone in power but hard to get rid of him.”
Then Libuše’s eyes grew dreamy as she entered into one of her prophetic trances. In a distant voice she said:
“Beyond the hills is a small stream called Bilina. On its banks, where it makes a bend, there is a little village, Stadice. A hundred and twenty paces beyond the village, upstream, in a narrow valley, there is a field where you will find your future duke, a ploughman. He has two oxen: one is brown, with a white head, the other one is brown with a white streak down its back, and white hind legs. Go, take along the clothing fit for a duke, give the man my message, and bring him back here to be your ruler and my husband. His name is Premysl and our descendants will rule here forever. You will not have to ask the way. My white horse will lead you, just follow him. When the horse stops by a ploughman and neighs, that man will be Premysl. You will be certain it is he when you see him eating off an iron table.”
Her subjects set out and found the man she spoke of. He was no more than a common plough man, but the turned him into a duke nonetheless. Until her death, Libuše ruled alongside Premysl, her caveat to ruling as a woman. We do not know if there was any love between her and Premysl, or if he was simply a figurehead to appease the masses as she ruled quietly behind him.
After Libuše passed, the rights for women were swiftly curtailed as Premysl became the sole ruler. The Maiden Wars ensued as understandably disgruntled women declared war on the ruling men who took away their brief glimpse of freedom. Apparently Cosmas, the priest who originally wrote these chronicles, wrote nothing at all about this event. It wasn’t until the 14th century when it was recorded in the Dalimil Chronicle.
During The Maiden Wars, Libuše’s loyal women led by a fierce warrior named Vlasta, took over Děvín Castle. The male warriors occupied Vyšehrad Castle. Of course having very little training or experience in battle, the women were not so successful. They were laughed at and belittled for their desire to become equal until Sarka came into the picture.
“Libuse’s right-hand woman in the war against the men was a young girl named Sarka. She decided that the best way to inflict the greatest loss on their opponents was to entrap their bravest and strongest fighter, a young man named Ctirad, using feminine wiles, and then kill him.”
Sarka ended up succeeding in her plot to lure and kill Ctirad, which was a great blow to the male opponents. This helped the women to fight on for a while longer. Unfortunately though, it was not enough. The women were defeated and the patriarchal system took over once more.
Though this is not a happy ending to the fascinating women of the early Czech Republic, the legend provided hope and motivation thousands of years afterward during the Czech National Revival in the 18th century. At that time, the Czech language, culture and identity was all but eliminated as this region was occupied by the Habsburg empire. The strong fearless spirit found in Libuše, Sarka, Teta and Kazi became part of a larger movement towards independence.
While it is difficult to tell how much of this story is true, there are some hints that keep the essence of these maidens alive. The castle Vyšehrad still exists thousands of years later in Prague.
Within the city lies a nature preserve too, called Divoká šárka which translates to “Wild Sarka”, after the warrior woman who led the fight for equal rights. There is a cliff within this nature preserve that is said to be the spot where Sarka took her own life rather than be captured by the men.
These lingering links both physical and oral not only shows the bravery of Libuše, her sisters, and her loyal women, but it also shows how actions in this lifetime can have ripple effects throughout centuries. Even if they subside, they may still return in a way we could not imagine. Even though The Maiden Wars were initially a loss, perhaps their most significant purpose was to be a rallying cry for freedom many generations in the future.
References
Woods, Wendy. “Rewilding the Czech Legend of Libuše’s Vision and Wild Sarka.” Stories from the Wood Wide Web, 13 Nov. 2022, woodwidewebstories.com/2022/08/28/rewilding-the-czech-legend-of-libuses-vision-and-wild-sarka/.
WOLVERTON, LISA. Cosmas of Prague. Catholic University of America Press, 2015. JSTOR, https://doi.org/10.2307/j.ctt130h9dp. Accessed 30 Sept. 2023.
Hodges, Kate. Warriors, Witches, Women: Celebrating mythology’s fiercest females. White Lion Publishing, 2020.