Ethereal Chronicles

On the final night of Christmas, the houses lay in stillness, scarcely breathing in anxious anticipation for the visitor they feared yet knew so well. For it was Frau Perchta who glided through the night, accompanied by her spectral followers and horses of the dead that whinnied and rumbled in the sky. And when she set upon a house where the inhabitants slept peacefully, she commanded her eerie entourage to halt before descending to the ground, placing a pale hand upon the door which gladly opened to welcome her.

The living room was cold, the hearth reduced to weak, crumbling embers, and she extended her fingers to brush against the table in the middle, leaving behind her touch a dent in the dust that lay there. It was then that the first trickle of rage began to flow through her, which steadily grew to a roar as her gaze fell upon the sad spindles by the fire, their work incomplete.

“Your task is not finished.” She said aloud, her voice reverberating through the house as her eyes found the little boy hiding not far from where she stood. His parents’ doing, no doubt, leaving him there to pay for their own incompetence.

The boy crept out from his hiding place, his eyes wide and his pyjamas trembling with every shudder of fear that racked his small body. A quiet sob escaped him, tiny face contorting as his eyes pushed out salty tears.

“Hush, child. You have nothing to fear.” The white lady said softly, crouching down to let him come to her, though her voice emitted no sympathy.

The boy hesitated, his red eyes searching hers as a glimmer of hope flashed across his face. Perhaps, tonight, she might choose to save him. With that thought he rushed forwards, collapsing into her embrace and burying his face into her chest.

Frau Perchta waited, her fingers gently smoothing over his dishevelled hair, and lifted his chin to inspect the dirt upon his face. “I’m sorry, little one.” She said, feeling a twinge of guilt struggling against the seething rage and offence that bubbled beneath her calm exterior. “But rules are rules. Everybody knows them, and everybody knows the consequences should they deliberately choose to disobey. You have a lazy family, child, and you too will grow to live a life of idleness if I choose to let you go free.”

She moved quickly then, swiftly withdrawing the knife from beneath the fur coat that draped over her dress. Before the boy could utter one final plea, she slashed the blade across his belly. Blood spurted from the wound, spattering the white of her clothes with a grim, dirty red. He fell to the ground, a gurgle rising in his throat.

She extended her arm to cushion his head from the fall, drawing him into her lap as the light in his eyes dimmed. With a practised hand, she widened the gash so that it gaped right open. With the other, she plunged into the wound, scooping out the slippery organs and discarding them carelessly onto the ground beside her. She then conjured a pile of straw and stones, and stuffed them into the bloody hole. With her cleaner hand, she tenderly closed his eyes, offering a final touch to his face as if to grant him peace. After placing him gently on the ground, she rose to her feet, an exasperated sigh escaping her lips.

It was not until she was once more in the air that a harrowing scream tore through the house.

From the mysteries of Alpine Paganism emerges Frau Perchta, the feared Christmas witch and goddess of winter.

APPEARANCE AND ATTRIBUTES

Frau Perchta, whose name can also mean ‘the Bright One’, appears during the twelve days of Christmas (also known as Rauhnächte), in regions of Germany, Austria and Switzerland. She is often compared to the Germanic goddess Holda, who features in ‘Frau Holle’, one of the fairytales collected by the Brothers Grimm.

Perchta appears in two distinct forms, one being far more appealing than the other. In her initial guise, Frau Perchta is as fair and beautiful as her name suggests. Her other form, however, is that of an ancient, haggard crone. In this appearance, she is believed to have one foot significantly larger than the other –  what Jacob Grimm referred to as a “swan maiden’s foot” (Grimm, 1882). This peculiar feature is thought to symbolise her ancient power and her ability to shapeshift into whichever form she desires.

During her visits to the human world in Rauhnächte, she may appear as the leader of the Wild Hunt, a ghostly army that rides through the night sky in the depths of winter.

REWARD AND PUNISHMENT

Frau Perchta is a winter goddess who punishes the wicked and rewards the virtuous. During the Christmas period, she visits homes to inspect which households have completed their tasks in time for the new year, particularly in spinning and other cultural taboos over the season.

If the household has worked diligently throughout the year, Frau Perchta will reward them with a coin.

If, however, she finds that the inhabitants of the house have been lazy and ill mannered over the course of the year, or if the house is untidy upon her arrival, she will slit their bellies and fill their insides with rough stones and straw. Children who lie in her presence may have their eyes scratched out with harsh shards of glass.

Additionally, the goddess would punish those who did not eat her desired feast on Berchtentag, or New Years. Typically, this meal would consist of fish and gruel, sometimes prepared in excess and left out as an offering in hopes of receiving blessings from Frau Perchta.

THE PERCHTEN

Frau Perchta’s followers were called the Perchten, who also came in two forms.

The Schönperchten were the beautiful ones, who brought good luck and rich wealth to the homes that they visited.

The Schiachperchten were hideous, with fangs and horse tails, and these warded off all manners of evil, driving bad spirits and demons from houses.

REFERENCES

• Perchta: Evil Witch Of The Alps – An Old Tradition That Still Continues – Ancient Pages
• What is Frau Perchta? Alpine White Woman or a Belly-Slitter? (germangirlinamerica.com)