White Lady

The “White Lady” is a legendary ghost figure often portrayed as a sorrowful spirit draped in white, wandering old castles and manor houses. One of the most famous tales of the White Lady comes from Český Krumlov in the Czech Republic.

Who I Was

I was Perchta of Rožmberk, a noblewoman from the 16th century. Despite my noble birth, my life was filled with sadness. I was forced into a loveless marriage with a cruel and abusive husband, Johann von Liechtenstein. My letters to my family were filled with desperate pleas for help. My suffering continued until his death, but even after my own death, my spirit could not find peace.

My Haunting

I began to appear in Český Krumlov Castle as the White Lady, dressed in a flowing white gown. My ghost wandered the halls where I had once lived. According to local lore, I was not a malevolent spirit but rather a sorrowful one, mourning my lost happiness. My presence was often seen as an omen, especially for the Rožmberk family, warning them of impending death. Though honestly, after all those years, I can’t help but think I should have taken up a hobby instead of spooking people—maybe knitting or ghostly pottery.

Now, imagine I am a puppet, delicately crafted to resemble the White Lady. My features are made with care, capturing my ethereal beauty and sorrow, though I must say, they could have given me a more flattering nose. My white gown flows gracefully, and my glass eyes hold centuries of untold suffering—and a hint of “why did I ever marry that guy?”

As a puppet, I bring my haunting tale to life on stage. When the lights dim, I glide across the stage with ghostly elegance, or at least as gracefully as a puppet can manage. Through my performance, the audience is transported to the halls of Český Krumlov Castle. They feel my sorrow and the chill of my presence, though sometimes I suspect they’re just trying to see if my strings will get tangled.

In the climax, I stand at the edge of the stage, my white gown shimmering in the dim light. The audience sees me, the spectral White Lady, and for a moment, they are lost in my world. The curtains fall, and I return to my inanimate state, but my story lingers in their minds—a haunting reminder of my eternal vigil. And let’s face it, being a puppet isn’t so bad; at least I always have something to wear!