12 Demons of Xmas Day 2: Hans Trapp
Everyone’s favorite Christmas cannibal!
I have to say, Hans Trapp has been one of the harder Christmas demons to draw for this series. There are so many aspects to the traditions surrounding Hans Trapp that are grisly and bizarre, and I just wasn’t sure that the comic elements would translate. I drew so many versions of this comic that were profoundly unfunny, so hopefully this version was at least worth a good giggle or two.
Hans Trapp was also a difficult character to research. He’s not as common as Krampus or Black Peter, so there isn’t as much documentation about where he came from and why he’s associated with Christmas.
Folklorists suspect Hans was based on real-life Hans von Trotha, a wealthy knight who was born in 1450 and died in 1503. This Hans was entrusted with two castles in parts of present-day France and Germany. He had a disagreement with a local abbot over his possession of one of the castles, which the the abbot occupied and refused to give up.
In retaliation, Hans von Trotha decided to build a dam, which stopped the water supply to the village below. The abbot complained and Hans tore down the dam, but this flooded the village, causing even more destruction than the original dam.
After years of the abbot’s complaints, the Pope himself summoned Hans von Trotha to be questioned about his loyalty to the church. He refused, and instead wrote a letter accusing the Pope of immorality. In response, he was excommunicated and had an Imperial Ban placed upon him by the Emperor.
Hans probably got his demonic reputation from the defenders of the Catholic Church—anyone who dared challenge the Pope must have been absolutely black-hearted and evil. So, after a few decades, the story of a property dispute between a knight and an abbot became story about a power-hungry cannibalistic Baron who dealt with the devil and dressed as a scarecrow to lie in wait for unsuspecting travelers.
All this aside, it’s still not clear why Hans became associated with Christmastime.
If I were to make a guess, it’s because—in some stories—Hans Trapp is actually resurrected by Jesus after he’s killed by God’s lightning. (That wacky God!) After his resurrection, Hans pledges to serve Jesus for eternity, in gratitude for salvation from his sins.
Apparently, Hans wasn’t required to give up the cannibalism to hang out with Jesus full time. In fact, it seems like his cannibalism is more like an asset, especially during the Christmas season.
Now Jesus is, you know, kind of a Christmastime A-lister, so Hans Trapp probably got wrapped up in the holiday through his connection to our lord and savior.
In fact, parts of Europe, Santa Claus and St. Nicholas don’t deliver presents at all. Instead, a white-skinned, fresh-faced version of Jesus does the job. He’s called the Christ child, and he often appears dressed in white—sometimes with wings, sometimes without. The Christ child can actually be anywhere from age two to twenty-two, and he’s pretty much always blonde. Sometimes he’s not even the actual Jesus, he’s a young angel instead, heralding the arrival of Jesus.
He (or she) came to the house and rang a bell to announce their arrival. The Christ child distributed gifts while Hans Trapp stuffed the naughties into a sack to eat later.
So, imagine growing up in France in the 1500s-1800s, waiting for a young, nubile Jesus to bring a cannibalistic scarecrow to your house during Christmas.
Trés festif.
These days, Hans is more likely to appear alongside St. Nicholas or Papa Noël. He tends to be dressed more like a deranged wild man—with a raggedy appearance and a sooty face (because of the lightning).
Sometimes he wears a dark hood and carries a bundle of the the classic Santa’s-little-helper whipping sticks.
Unfortunately, white people seem really excited about darkening their faces for basically any excuse under the sun, and some have used the Hans Trapp tradition as an excuse to don blackface.
Now, if there’s anything I want you to take away from this Christmas demon series, it’s this: we never, ever, ever, ever, ever wear blackface.
Never.
Never, ever, ever.
Did I say that enough times? Never, ever, ever wear blackface. Not as a joke, not to dress up as any character from any story, ever. It doesn’t matter if the blackface is supposed to represent soot, or dirt, or to depict a beloved Black Christmas character (á la Zwarte Piet in the Netherlands)—we never, ever, ever wear blackface.
AND ESPECIALLY not when we dress up as a sadistic cannibal.
THERE. It’s been said.
So, if you choose to incorporate Hans Trapp into your annual Christmas lore, be sure NOT TO WEAR BLACKFACE.
Or you just might end up on Hans Trapp’s naughty list.
Joyeux Noël, everyone. Thank you so much for being here.
Until the next Christmas demon,
🖤 Becca Lee, the Haunted Librarian 🖤