Amazons Defeated (in 8th century Bohemia)

[Jiri Severa]

The following is a legend of a war the Czech men of ancient Bohemia
fought with the Amazons, the archetype of hostile women. Men won
but not before they were taught important lessons: about women and
themselves. Listen to a chapter of history of a people whose
language has two words for p r i d e : one describing self-
reliance and firmness of character (hrdost) , the other
narcissistic self-adulation and angry contempt for the ability of
others (pycha). It is the latter p r i d e that, the Czechs say,
precipitates a fall.

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When the ruler Krok died, he left behind three daughters:
Kazi, Teta and Libuse. The youngest, Libuse, was a wise, graceful
woman, and she was properly possesed with prophetic visions. She
became the untitled leader, and the memory of the people says she
was a just ruler, attending to the affairs of her tribes with
dilligence and open mind. But men, in disputes with each other,
would not defer to a young woman. In one session of her court, a
wild man, having received a ruling on his quarrel, openly defied
her. 'Long in hair, short in judgement' - he said, 'shame on the
men who accept the rule of a woman'. He angrily stomped out of her
court. When no man stood up to speak for her, Libuse, having
received the gift of grace spoke thus: ' Yes, I am a woman and I do
as woman would. That I do not judge you with an iron cane in hand,
makes you believe my judgement is short. Very well then, have you
a custodian harsher than woman. I grant your unspoken petition.
Now, go home in peace'. She directed the council to select a
husband for her. When the council remained clueless as to whom
s h e could possibly marry, she turned prophetic and directed the
men to the house of Premysl (The Levelheaded). The envoys then
found her prince at work ploughing his fields.
The marriage of Premysl and Libuse launched the first dynasty
of Czech kings.
The account of what followed the death of Libuse, as regards
the gender relations, comes from Alois Jirasek's Old Legends of The
Czech Lands (as was the quote above).


T H E W E N C H E S ' W A R

I.

When Libuse left for the world beyond, the young women of her
entourage saw they did not have the respect they had commanded
during her lifetime. They were aggrieved and bitterly pined for the
times when their mistress alone ruled the land and all men, and
became sorely irritated when a few among men would goad them: 'You
ruled us; we bowed to you, and look at you now: you are as stray
sheep !'
And then the secret anger burst into flames which fanned high
and wide. Out of the desire for power and vindication, the wenches
seized swords and bows, and without thought to the odds they faced,
they began tough struggle against menfolk. In all action the leader
was Vlasta who once stood out in the company of Libuse. It was she
who first called to arms, she who first bore arms, and she again
who united the women and commanded them to build a military
stronghold.
They built a fortress as their refuge beyond the river Vltava,
on a hill little higher than Vysehrad on the opposite bank.
The wenches obeyed Vlasta as their mistress and commander. On
her counsel and order, they travelled to the country to call on
women to join them in Devin, as they named their new citadel, to
fight against men with the aim of making women rule the land and
men to serve them in the house and toil in the fields.
Vlasta's challenge was not a hollow cry which the wind blows
away, but a spark that lit the hearts of many. Like doves flying
free off their cots, women and wenches rushed away from their
husbands, fathers, and brothers, all to the fortress of Devin,
where they swarmed in its halls and rooms, its spacious courts and
tall ramparts.
Men, from the distance of Vysehrad, idly surveyed them and
gleefully mocked their dilligent practice at arms and riding. Even
the elders and men wise in the ways of the world regarded them with
disdain, and when the matter of estranged women in arms came up
before prince Premysl, they spoke of them without respect, saying
they sorely itched to find out what women's valour was all about.
All men around Premysl laughed at the thought of chasing armed
wenches. But the prince remained saddened and with a voice of
heartfelt concern he said to them:

"Hear me out men; I see here no cause for merriment and
laughter. And perhaps you would not laugh either if you had a
vision such as I had last night"

And that they be forewarned, he told them his vision:

"It was a dark night, and the wind was full of thick and
biting smoke. In the light of fire I saw a wench in a helmet. From
under the helmet her long hair fluttered; she held a sword in one
hand and a chalice in the other. In the dust on the ground lied
dead men in pools of blood. The wench ran around in a rage,
stepping on the dead, scooping blood with her chalice and gulping
it like a beast in wild fascination. Hear, men, the voice of gods
and take notice of their sign. Be warned by this vision; hear what
I say and do not take it with a light heart."

II.

Meanwhile, the wenches in Devin prepared for the war against
men. They supressed nature's call for kinship, and without heart
they announced to brothers, even fathers: "We are not anything to
you any more. Let each take care of himself !" To each other they
swore allegience, calling for the death by her own sword to anyone
who should betray their cause. They took a solemn oath to Vlasta
who gave each her own post and duty.
The wisest stayed in Vlasta's council, to those who were
timid, she had given chores in the fortress, and the bravest she
trained in warfare: to ride horses and kill men like dogs. She
selected women well built, with beauty and pleasing manner to trap
men with their charms. Vlasta aimed to destroy men by both, force
and cunning.
Men remained foolish, not heeding the advice of Premysl, their
prince. They poured in towards Devin as if for a country fair. They
thought that all they had to do was to show up and and rattle their
swords, and the wenches would frighten and run like cats when they
hear the sound of dried peas in a leather bag.
But wonder of wonders ! The wenches did not stay on the
ramparts, true. But far from running away, they massed before the
gate and led by Vlasta, they marched forth. Seated on a raven steed
dressed in armour and helmet, javelin in hand, she spoke to them
fiercely, exhorting them not to be afraid, and to fight bravely.
"If we are defeated", she cried, "men will first laugh at you.
Then they will make you their servants, and worse, their slaves !
Fight them ! Do not spare a single one of them, kill them all,
whoever they may be, let them be your brother, let them be your
father !"
No sooner she finished speaking, she pulled her reins and
spurred her horse into gallop. She cried out and waved her lance,
and the cry went on behind her, as the rows of women warriors
stomped thirsting for a battle. At their head, after Vlasta, were
Mlada, Svatava, Hodka, Radka and Castava. -
The arrows left the wenches' bows and fell on men like a
sudden snowstorm. Just as suddenly, the men lost their good humour.
Bloodied, they were falling not by one but by the rows and before
they had the time to draw a new line of defense, the women were at
them slashing and piercing their confused ranks.
The battle did not last long. Three hundred men lied bloodied
on the ground. The rest ran for their lives. Dense, dark forest
nearby was their salvation and shelter. Without it, they would have
all been dead.
Devin and the neighbouring country heard the joyful cries of
the wenches. They were overjoyed by their victory and their
fighting spirit was strengthened by the new throngs of women who
joined them in the days after the battle. The news soon spread
far and wide and set ablaze even those who were hesitant before.
And in the land events took an ugly turn. Many a man was found
clobbered or stabbed to death in the morning, and many others,
unsure of the safety of their own house, were leaving at night to
sleep in the thickets and groves.
Around Devin men also fell on hard times. They could not get
close to the fortress; they could take the place neither by arms
nor by stratagem. There was not a single man in Devin and none of
the wenches would betray her peers. On the other hand, the warriors
had their supporters on Vysehrad, women who were not allied with
them openly, but in secret sent news about what men were up to,
where they would go, where they could be attacked and overtaken.
And so the struggle went on - in the field openly and
elsewhere by artful deceit. One seductress lured a trusting lad to
come and set her free when she travelled on the road from Devin
with nine others. He came with friends of his own and waited on the
spot they had chosen. The one he waited for came also with the nine
maidens. But at the same moment a troop of others charged from
their hideout and slaughtered the young man and his comrades.
Another young man lost his life by intrigue. He trusted a
beautiful wench when she promised to betray Devin. As they agreed,
she let him and his friends slip into Devin at night. But neither
he nor his men were ever seen after the gate closed behind them in
the fortress.
Sly ruse felled also a strong young knight, Ctirad, whom
Vlasta hated most because in the skirmishes and battles his sword
cut down more of her warriors than any other man's.

III.

One summer day Ctirad rode in the fields with his manservants,
leaving the seat of his clan and having the Prague castle as his
destination. The young knight and the men of his guard had swords
by their sides and furred quivers across their chests. Many of them
grasped javelins. For it was not wise in those times when wenches
were lying in wait everywhere to travel alone and unarmed.
The sun was hot and the air close. In the acres of corn and
hemp, the spiked ears and leaves were perfectly stll. Not even in
the woods which Ctirad reached on his road, the air remained fresh.
The shadows of old trees and dark crags which towered in the deep
vale lost their cooling touch. In the windless air not a twig
stirred and the brook in the growth under the crags crept without
sound. All stood still: water, the trees, the birds. Only a human
voice suddenly cut through the lifeless silence: the voice of
hapless lament, a call for help.
Ctirad stopped and the men listened in amazement. The cries
carried on from a distance beyond a bluff but then they suddenly
stopped. At that moment a raven flew over Ctirad and turning over
the knight's head let out his hoarse croaks. But neither the knight
nor his men noticed the black bird and the warning sounds. They
pursued the human voice. As they rounded the bluff, they stopped
their horses with a start. They wondered at what they saw.
By the rock, adorned by stalks of gold mullein, and the growth
of berries by its base, where the flower was pure white and the
fruit full red, they saw a green clearing in a stream of light,
full of hairgrass and reddish willow-weed. An old oak-tree stood on
the edge near the rock and under the tree a young woman sat tightly
tied to the trunk by a thick rope. She was silent, exhausted by the
calls and pain, and her head hanged low. Her hair, half undone,
covered her shoulders and over them on a belt hung a hunting horn.
As the gallop of horses reached her ears she lifted her head, and
called again, begging the men to untie her, to free her, to take
pity on her.
Ctirad, moved by the plea and the voice of the luscious maid
forgot all caution, and so did his men. Swiftly he jumped off his
horse, and with a drawn sword cut the rope to free the wench. He
had no idea that Vlasta obtained the news of his journey to Prague
castle through these ends from a treacherous woman the day before.
She then connived to ensnare the courageous knight, so he would
never return, a plot in which the charms of this woman would would
be of service. Now without shackles, the wench thanked Ctirad
profusely, and told him she was Sarka, the daughter of the knight
of Okorin. She recounted how the women ambushed her in the woods,
tied her and led her in tow toward their castle, when they heard
horses on the road.
'They left me behind, but tied me so I could not move. And to
mock me, they hanged this horn on my neck, so I could - all tied up
- blow in it for help. And here, look, they even left drink for me
to suffer beyond plain thirst'.
She pointed to a large jar of mead in the grass by her feet.
And she broke into tears again and pleaded anxiously with the
knight not to leave her behind, but to take her back to her father
lest the raging virgins return and molest her anew.
Ctirad, seated beside comforted her, promising he would do as
she asked, and offered the jar for refreshment after her ordeal.
She drank and gave him to drink. Meanwhile his men dismounted, tied
their horses nearby, and lied down in the shade to cool down. It
was noon hour. The pungent scent of pines, thyme and herbs of the
meadow filled the air above the ground in the shimmering heat of
midday. Nothing moved, hardly a butterfly flew through the sun
drenched clearing. The eyelids of the guardsmen became heavy as
sleep was overcoming them.
Their master, though, remained alert, listening to the tales
of lovely Sarka, drinking with abandon when she handed him the
vessel. And when she lifted the horn off her bosom, wondering aloud
what sound it would yield to a strong man, Ctirad obliged her and
blew in it with all his might.
And the horn's racket tore into the still life around. The
crags and treetops carried its voice far into the distance from
whose wooded depths it returned a faint echo.
Suddenly, as if the sound called in a storm, wild cries broke
out all around, near and far, from behind the trees and thickets
and the hillside further back. Like a swarm of wild bees, a cohort
of armed wenches covered the clearing. Before Ctirad's servants
could take hold of themselves, the women leaped at their horses'
sides and threw away the swords. Then they beset the men to
bludgeon and stab them.
Ctirad wanted to join his men but as he stumbled reaching for
his sword in the grass the women were on his back and before he
could swing at them with his weapon, they threw him on the ground
and tied him with a rope. And there he lied in the place of
Vlasta's confidante. In vain he struggled, hurled oaths, and called
on the daemons to devour Sarka for her evil deed. Sarka laughed, as
did her friends and all of them in mad cheer led their burly
captive tied up beside Sarka's horse to Devin. His comrades
remained behind on the clearing's trampled grass sprayed with
blood. They lied in the sun, impaled, dead, inviting flies to sit
on them. From high on, the raven again croaked, calling his kin to
a sumptuous feast. Thus perished the men of Ctirad, and their
master was defeated. And the craggy, wild valley, where it
happened, bears the name of the woman who brought about their
downfall to this day.

IV.

The guards and spies brought horrible news to Vysehrad the day
after. Near Devin they found a scaffold on display, holding a wheel
on its high beam and in the wheel the broken body of Ctirad, the
knight, whom the wenches tortured to martyr's death.
The news spead like brushfire, in all neighbourhhods, in all
counties. And from all sides, men came in arms to Vysehrad,
indignant of the scourge, and begged Premysl to lead them to avenge
Ctirad, forswearing to accept his counsel in the future. But many
did not wait for the prince's orders and started towards Devin on
their own, killing wenches on their way. They took many of them
prisoner and brought them to Vysehrad.
Vlasta raged like a she-bear, and ever so superior, certain of
victory, she led her warriors on Vysehrad, to take the fortress and
slaughter all men they find. But sooner than arriving at the gates
they came across a large army of men, starved for a bloody revenge.
They fought in a cruel battle. Vlasta, on her steed, led the
charge. Propelled by rage, she galloped forward, believing she
blazed the way for others closely following behind. But the wenches
could not fight through as fast as she did, and suddenly Vlasta
found herself alone, surrounded by men, in their thickest file. And
they closed in on her; their wild ranks coming nearer and nearer,
until she could no longer lift her sword owing to their cruel
pressure. They seized her, threw her to the ground and with their
knives tore her to pieces.


Thus she perished.

The others did not fare better. When they saw their leader
fall, suddenly they were gripped by panic, and those whom men
feared just a day before, were fleeing the battlefield in
disorderly droves. They ran back to Devin, to seek refuge there.
Many fell on the field, many died in flight, and those who
reached Devin did not escape destruction either.
For men fought their way into the fortress, as confusion
reigned and the bridge was not drawn. And in Devin women's power
and martial prowess came to a sad end. The warriors threw away
their swords, and began to shed their women's tears again, and
memory having returned to them, they begged their brothers and kin
for mercy, wringing their hands on their knees. Some begged slyly,
some sincerely, but the men's hearts were hardened, yearning to
revenge Ctirad and all those who as witness to women's vainglory,
lost their lives in combat or entrapment. The men levied a cruel
tax; they did not spare a single warrior. They threw beautiful
bodies from the windows of the keep and from the high walls of the
fortress. And when they were done with the women's assembly, they
burned their Devin to the ground and turned its walls to dust.

Thus ended the wenches' war.

Order and law returned to the land, and prince Premysl alone ruled
without women's opposition.

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Just one note of interest. The Wenches' War is oral history,
written down by a well-known folklorist in the last century. The events
would have taken place cca the 8th century. In one respect, at least,
the tale might not be telling us the full truth about the men of the age.
In the digs around Devin, the skeletons of male warriors were found in
circumstances suggesting they were slaves fighting for the castle's
lords. Surveying the gender scene today, it would not suprpise me one tad
if I were to learn that the bulk of Vlasta's real army were actually
men.

Jiri Severa
101 Renfrew #3,
Ottawa, ON K1S 1Z6
(613) 236-6859
Internet : ah...@freenet.carleton.ca