Katarzyna Sydonia, the second wife of Adam Wacław, a Cieszyn Prince, was extremely fond of hunting. She could spend hours in the saddle without a trace of tiredness, she had a sharp eye and a sure hand; she hardly ever missed a target. She kept a whole pack of excellent dogs and her stable was also a justified source of her pride. A colt’s coming into the world was given a rousing welcome, almost the same as that of a first-born baby, and the stable servants were punished for an illness or even the temporary indisposition of the favourite steed with a whipping.
      The shooting lodge, which was much more modest than the Cieszyn residence but comfortable and furnished with taste, was situated in Marklowice, today a suburb of Cieszyn.
      One autumn, after her husband’s death, Katarzyna invited some guests there. They came from Bielsko, Pszczyna, Racibórz and even from the distant Opole. 
      For a few days in a row, however, the sky was covered with leaden clouds and it drizzled almost continually; the horses sweated pulling their hooves out from the drenched soil. In these conditions the chase was out of the question. So they feasted at nights and covered the windows during the day for the guests were asleep; heavy carts kept making their way towards Cieszyn to replenish the melting supplies of food and drink.
      The Princess was furious. Although she invited everyone to the table with a kind smile, she went to bed only after the last guest had retired or tumbled down with a glass in his hand and every day she thought up new dishes and entertainment for her guests – but those who knew her well understood that she strained every nerve to restrain herself. 
      The servants, trembling with fear that she would get angry, fulfilled all her wishes, even the smallest ones, in no time at all. They even seemed to have read her thoughts. Everybody, starting with a simple cook’s boy, realized that the Princess would have to wreak her rage on somebody, that she would not regain her good humour until she found vent to her anger.
      Finally it cleared a little and before noon the trumpet was blown for hunting. The noble guests mounted their horses. The princess, who was the only horsewoman in the company, galloped in front. She settled the steed at the edge of a familiar clearing and dismounted from the horse gracefully. She heard the shouts of the beaters. One more minute and she would see a wild boar. Such were the arrangements. 
      She leant the fowling-piece against the fork between branches and took aim. Her cheeks flushed with excitement, her nostrils flared.
      But the shot was not fired. The beater, whose task was to direct the boar to the clearing, got frightened of the boar that was running straight at him. He dropped the net and dashed to the side.
      The princess shook with indignation.
- What a cad, bandit!
      At first it seemed that she would kill the frightened peasant and she even drew a bead on him, but at the last moment she changed her mind. She had the beater tied, caned and rushed to the lodge. There the poor man was tied to a bull, the wildest beast in the paddock. The bull’s tail was scorched and the animal was released. Mad with pain, the bull dashed towards the forest dragging the peasant like a sack. His body, terribly mutilated, was found a few hours later and he was buried on the following day.
      But the Princess had no peace although she had wreaked her rage on the poor fellow. Every night she dreamt about the bleeding body of the murdered man. She jumped out of bed and, trembling with fear, she lit a candle and walked about, going from chamber to chamber. Everywhere she was accompanied by the mysterious phrase “memento mori!”...
      Katarzyna changed past all recognition. She gave no more parties or feasts, she never went hunting again, she dressed in black from head to foot, like a nun. 
And when she died, the country-folk called her The Black Princess.

Who was that Black princess?
It is generally assumed that the legend deals with Katarzyna Sydonia, a Cieszyn Princess, who ruled The Piast Duchy of Cieszyn in the years 1579-1594. She is said to have loved her husband, Prince Wacław Adam, so much that she wore the mourning dress that she had put on after his death to the end of her days. Some claim that this is where the nickname “Czarna” (Black) came from.
      In reality, seven years after Wacław’s death Katarzyna got married again (to Emeryk Forgach from Hungary). From there she used to come to the town on the Olza by stage-coach.
Thus the story about the lifelong mourning should be dscounted.
      When the plague broke out in Cieszyn and took more than 3000 lives, the Princess gave her gardens to the town and they were turned into a cemetery. She also funded The Church of the Holy Cross which has remained until today. 
      Katarzyna was the daughter of a Saxon Prince, Franciszek I. It was through her that Cieszyn Piasts became related to the Belgian Royal Dynasty that still reigns today. 
      Some people think, however, that it was not Katarzyna but Elżbieta Lukrecja (1626-1653), the last representative of the Cieszyn Piast family, who was the Black Princess.
      The Princess’s private life did not go well. At the age of 19 she was forced to marry the then 39-year-old Prince Gudnakar Lichtenstein. She was treated atrociously by him, he even skimped her in food. So when she became the lady of the Cieszyn dominions, she left her husband and she never allowed him to cross the border of the Duchy.
      So... neither did she mourn for her husband.