These days, it’s hard to make it through December in the U.S. without encountering Krampus. Hairy, scary, hoofed, and horned, the devilish character is wildly popular from coast to coast. Sometimes he brandishes a horsehair whip or a switch of birch-twigs; often his tongue lolls out, prodigiously long and red. Across the country, hundreds of events feature Krampus, including parades, “runs,” Christmas markets, and even mall photo-ops. Books, magazines, movies, and comics highlight his history and his adventures. But American Krampus is entirely a 21st century phenomenon; as recently as 2000, the Library of Congress had not a single book about Krampus in English. So just who is Krampus, and where does he come from? We’ll take a look at him in a short series of blogs.
To answer the simplest question first, Krampus is a folklore character who comes primarily from German-speaking regions of Europe, especially Austria (Styria and Salzburg) and Germany (Bavaria). Krampus is also present in the folklore of Slavic, Hungarian, Italian, and Romanian speakers where those countries border on German speaking areas.
It’s not entirely clear where the name Krampus comes from, but the prevailing theories are that it’s either from the Old High German word Krampe, meaning a hook or claw, or the Bavarian dialect word Krampn, meaning dried out, shriveled, or dead. In either case, Krampus seems to be named for some aspect of his fearsome appearance!
In many contexts, Krampus is not an individual monster but a type of monster, like a werewolf or a vampire; you can have many Krampuses together in one place. For this reason, some people refer strictly to “a Krampus” or “the Krampus.” But this is complicated by one of the Krampus’s usual roles: that of companion to St. Nicholas. In most areas where Krampus is known, the tradition is that St. Nicholas visits children on the night of December 5 (St. Nicholas Eve) or on December 6 (St. Nicholas’s Day), leaving presents much like Santa Claus in American tradition. On these visits, St. Nicholas is often accompanied by a Krampus. Since there is no known given name for the particular Krampus that accompanies the saint, he has come to be called, in English and German, simply “Krampus.” Still, in some areas Nicholas is accompanied by a whole troupe of Krampuses, so usage varies according to which Krampus tradition prevails in a given area.
In his role as St. Nicholas’s companion, Krampus’s main duty is to punish or threaten naughty children while the saint rewards good ones. This can be seen as one of the many variations of the “good cop/ bad cop” or “carrot and stick” approach to managing children’s behavior—and Krampus literally wields a stick, or more commonly a bunch of birch twigs, to discipline children. If this isn’t sufficient, St. Nicholas’s Krampus companion often carries a basket or a sack, into which he is said to stuff naughty children to take them away and punish later at greater length. In most areas, Krampus’s actual power lies in the threat of punishment rather than in punishment itself, and one of the reasons for his frightening appearance is to convince children he must be capable of all the things they’ve heard about him!
Modern Krampus activities in Europe include large-scale parades in which many Krampuses flood the streets, smaller processions in which a handful of Krampuses participate, and house visits in which a costumed St. Nicholas with a Krampus companion visits homes and businesses, verifying that children are well-behaved and distributing small gifts. In the largest Krampus events in Europe, hundreds of Krampuses run through the streets of towns like Salzburg and Bad Goisern in Austria and Toblach in Italy. In some towns with smaller official events, more than one roving band of unofficial Krampuses compete to create the most mayhem. In certain parts of Austria like Bad Gastein, the house visits themselves can get quite chaotic, with bands of Krampuses knocking over furniture and wrestling with older members of the household to terrify the youngters, before distributing bags of sweets.
Roots and History of the Krampus Tradition
Because his roots do stretch back a long way, a lot of websites and magazine articles will tell you that the Krampus tradition goes back to pre-Christian times. Smithsonian Magazine’s Jennifer Billock takes this tack, claiming: “Krampus’s roots have nothing to do with Christmas. Instead, they date back to pre-Germanic paganism in the region.” But Billock provides no evidence for this claim, instead simply saying “tradition has it that he is the son of the Norse god of the underworld, Hel.” Billock cites an earlier article in National Geographic magazine, which simply states that Krampus is “said to be the son of Hel.” We’ve detailed many examples of such metafolklore on the blog in the past, and the assertion that Krampus is a pagan god rests on the same shaky ground, which I’ll try to discuss in a future blog post.
In fact, the clearest origins of Krampus can be found in medieval art and drama. Glance at devils in medieval German art, and you’ll see their undeniable resemblance to Krampus. Still, there’s a grain of truth to Billock’s tale; medieval devils themselves borrowed elements of pagan gods and monsters, so Krampus must have some distant pagan background. Also, we know that customs involving outdoor processions and and parades have existed since ancient times, and Krampus processions are arguably continuations of such earlier traditions in new form. Certainly, many Europeans who take part in the Krampus tradition believe it has pagan background, and dress and behave according to their understanding of Krampus’s pagan (or as they might say, “heathen”) roots.
You might wonder how medieval German devils emerged from illuminated manuscripts to rove the Austrian countryside. The answer is: through drama. Al Ridenour’s book “The Krampus and the Old Dark Christmas” tells us that plays depicting elements of St. Nicholas’s legend survive in German manuscripts from the 11th and 12th centuries. In these early plays, as well as other dramas of the winter season, frightening devils emerge from hell to drag away evildoers and to challenge those who spread the gospel. After the medieval period, vernacular plays and outdoor processions based on these medieval antecedents continued to feature St. Nicholas next to elaborately costumed devils, whose frightening accoutrements resemble and prefigure modern Krampus garb. Other seasonal traditions, including the kinds of indulgent and chaotic behavior typically seen at Carnival, were folded into the Krampus tradition as well. (There is a similar tradition that occurs a few weeks later at epiphany, involving similar costumed processions of supernatural creatures called Perchten. The Perchten tradition is a major influence on Krampus, which I hope to write about in a future post.)
In some areas, from the 17th to the 20th centuries, the enactments that featured Krampuses took the form of folk plays, much like the English-language mumming tradition which we’ve discussed on the blog many times. Although stories of Nicholas did form part of some plays, others focused on making fun of people in various professions, including a quack doctor character similar to the one around whom so many English-language plays are built. Many such plays ended with an incident in which the assembled Krampuses ran wild through the audience, pretending to attack audience members.
In the 18th and 19th centuries, people portraying Nicholas and Krampus began visiting houses and schools; Nicholas would quiz children on their schoolwork and Krampus would act as an unspoken threat. (We’ll see more about these visits later in this post and in a future blog post.) In the 19th century, Krampus also began to make appearances at Christmas markets, which are very popular in German-speaking Europe. At that point the mix of Krampus activities we see today was more or less complete.
The advent of inexpensive chromolithography also created a new outlet for Krampus imagery in the late 19th century: Krampus cards. Many hundreds of these cards, taking the form of postcards and greeting cards, were produced between 1885 and the outbreak of the first world war. Called “Krampuskarten” in German, they are most often humorous, depicting Krampus in a variety of guises and activities. Most common were images of Krampus capturing children, but significant numbers of cards depicted Krampus as a man attempting to woo a woman. Some even showed Krampus as a woman wooing or seducing men. In Germany, in what was then the dual monarchy of Austria-Hungary, and beyond, even in regions where Krampus was little known otherwise, postcards made him famous.
Krampus in America: The Early Years
We can get a peek at what Americans knew about Krampus in past times by looking at fleeting appearances in books and newspapers from Library of Congress collections. Three English-language books from the Library’s digitized collections mention Krampus. First, “The Young Folk’s Cyclopædia of Games and Sports” mentions Krampus among other “dark companions” of St. Nicholas:
In many parts of Europe it is customary for a man with a mask over his face, dressed in outlandish fashion, to go the rounds of the houses in a village, pretending that he is going to punish bad children. This character is called Ruprecht in Germany, Krampus in lower Austria, Hans Trapp in Alsace, and has other names in other places.
This bare mention of Krampus would be hardly worth reporting, except that the page has an illustration. Although labeled “Satan,” the only character it could be referring to who is mentioned in the chapter (let alone that page) is Krampus.
In “Society Recollections in Paris and Vienna, 1879-1904,” British military officer and roving gossip George Greville Moore gives other observations concerning Krampus:
The fete of St. Nicholas is thought a great deal of in Vienna; children always look forward to it with great delight. They are accustomed to receive presents of sweets on that day, and all the confectionery shops have what they call a krampus, or a kind of devil in red attached to every box of sugar-plums for children. Some of these are very expensive indeed, but every child one knows torments one to buy a Krampus. I have often been asked for it.
Moore doesn’t seem to have known anything about the significance or traditions of Krampus, but his passage reveals a detail I haven’t often seen mentioned by other commentators: Krampus toys were common in many areas, and often sold with an accompanying package of sweets or baked goods. Similar to the wooden nutcrackers we often see today, toy Krampuses were generally stiff-looking, made of fabric, wood, and paper maché, painted, and sometimes covered in animal hair or fur. Frequently, to ensure they could stand upright, the feet were affixed to a flat disc or platform of wood. Antique Krampus dolls survive to this day, and are also well represented as illustrations on Krampus cards. Meanwhile, some firms continue to design and release Krampus figures, some of which are frighteningly realistic.
The third book that gives us details of Krampus is “Marika,” a children’s book by Sari Szekely. In the book, nine year old Marika, who was born in Hungary but moved to the United States as a baby, returns to her native country with her parents for about six months, spending a summer and one semester of school there. In the 8th chapter, “Mikulás,” Marika’s home and school in Budapest are visited by Saint Nicholas and Krampus. The house visit occurs when Marika is asleep. Like Santa Claus in America, the saint and his helper leave gifts for Marika without her ever seeing them, and she is only told about it by her mother. However, the school visit occurs during the regular school day:
In the midst of arithmetic problems the door opened, and an old man who looked like the little figure of the Mikulas entered. He was dressed in a white robe, and on his head was a miter, the kind of tall, fancy headdress worn by bishops. In one hand he carried a bishop’s staff, and in the other, a long chain by which he led the Krampus.
The Mikulas sat at the teacher’s desk and opened a large golden book. Stroking his white beard, he read the names of the good children. Those whose names were called received gifts from the bulging bag strapped to the back of the Krampus. From a black book the Mikulas then read the names of the little girls who had been naughty.
“Baan Marika!” he called.”
Marika slowly approached the desk.
“Now, Marika, you are a good little girl, but you are often late, and you have the bad habit of drooping your shoulders. Have you ever seen a camel?”
“Oh, yes! Ever so many! And I’ve seen monkeys, too!”
“Well,” continued Mikulas, smiling not at all, “unless you are more careful of the way you hold your shoulders, you will have a hump just like a camel.”
The Krampus stepped forward.
Marika did not wait to see what was in store for her. She thought only of the switch and the pain that it might cause. With lightning speed she turned about and dashed from the classroom, leaving a room of astonished children staring after her. Even the Mikulas was surprised at her unexpected action.
‘I like Santa Claus better,” Marika later told her mother. “He has reindeer, not an ugly old Krampus, to carry the presents.”
The story tells us a few things about the Nicholas and Krampus tradition. For one, it shows us the influence of Austrian culture in Hungary, which for centuries had been part of an empire and double monarchy whose central court was in Vienna. Krampus was one of the traditions this union brought to Hungarians. It shows us the way the Krampus tradition was employed by schools and other institutions, as well as by parents, to ensure that children were well-behaved and motivated to learn. And it gives us a color painting of a Hungarian Krampus from the illustrator Barbara Gabor.
There’s also information about about Krampus in newspapers in the Library’s Chronicling America presentation. Many of them contain just fleeting mentions in stories offering factoids about “Christmas in Many Lands,” and don’t seem particularly well researched. Many fail to describe Krampus at all and refer to him as a “hobgoblin.” (A couple are notices for lost dogs named Krampus!) Others, though, at least provide some descriptive color:
In many places the bugbear overshadows in importance both the Christ child and St. Nicholas. He appears under different names and in different guises. In Lower Austria he is the frightful Krampus, with his clanking chains and horrible devil’s mask, who, notwithstanding his gilded nuts and apples, gingerbread and toys, which he carries in his basket, is the terror of the nursery.
The Caucasian (Clinton, N.C.), December 21, 1905
Christmas day in Bavaria Is called St. Nicolaus day, and It comes on the 6th of December. St. Nicolaus of Bavaria is not as jolly as our St. Nicholas. He always carries a huge bundle of sticks upon his right shoulder, for naughty children. Over his left he slings 4a pack of goodies for the good youngsters. Krampus always used to travel with him, but he does not go so often now. He was an ugly little humpbacked man with hateful eyes and a sharp tongue. His work was to carry off bad children in his big basket, to feed them to the bears in the wilderness! Fortunately, he Is not often seen now.
The Carlisle independent (Carlisle, Ark.), December 12, 1907
Elsewhere In Austria St Nicholas, familiarly known as Niklo, wears a crown on his head, and carries a sackful of presents over his shoulders. He is followed by a masked servant, “Krampus,” who is a devil undisguised, the most conspicuous feature of his costume being horns and a clanking chain. Also, he has a whip, with which he gives particular attention to bad youngsters.
Possibly the best description comes from a 1923 report called “Ammericanization [sic] Pupils Tell Of Christmas in Native Lands.” This description, written by German student George Veith, gives us a glimpse of the attitudes of different classes to Krampus traditions. It doesn’t sound like young Veith really knew how Krampus was enacted in rural areas but he had heard stories, perhaps from his parents, dismissing such activities as “not good.” Interestingly, he was quite aware that when his school and home were visited by Nicholas and the Krampus they were just men in costumes!
We have on the 6th of December a feast, but it is not a great feast, the school children are not free. In the villages it begins in the evening. Boys and girls have bells and sticks and are very wild. This is not good. In the good families and in the good parts in the city it is not so. There comes to the good children a man with a white costume, a white long beard and a gold stick in his hand, and he gives the good children nuts and other presents, but only small presents. But to the bad children comes a man with a black costume, long horns, a long red tongue and red eyes, also chains on the feet and a tail. He has also a rod. This Is the Krampus.
A story from 1935 sheds light on how psychologists at the time viewed belief in Krampus:
Christmas Bogey
The news from Vienna is that Krampus is on the way out, and that is a good thing. Krampus is a sort of Christmas bogey, the opposite of Santa Claus, appearing in Austria and Hungary about this time of year. He wears a red coat, horns and a tail, aptly suggesting his true character. He has a habit of appearing suddenly at the door, rattling chains and brandishing a whip, and asking parents how their children have behaved during the year; and woe to the boy or girl of whom a bad report is given.Naturally this fellow has always been unpopular with the children, and now the psychiatrists have, so to speak, kramped down on him. They say that the fright old Krampus gives the kids can’t do them any good. Sometimes they tremble for days, and can’t sleep. We don’t seem to recall any verdict by the psychiatrists on our Santa Claus, but they would doubtless approve of him. That is, except when he fails to appear. The emptiness which comes into a child’s soul when Santa overlooks him can’t be good for anybody.
Finally, an intriguing report from 1962 is the first reference I’ve seen to a Krampus-themed celebratory event in the United States. The apparently private party was held for charity by the American Austrian Society, and it seems much more staid and proper than any of the Krampus events we have today!
Krampus Ball Set Dec. 5 By Society
Following an old Austrian custom, the Washington chapter of the American Austrian Society will hold a Krampus Ball on Wednesday, December 5. The highlight of the party will be the appearance of Nikolo (St. Nikolaus) and his servant, Krampus. Traditionally, Nikolo hands out presents to children who have been good, while Krampus uses his switch on those who have been naughty. At the ball, however, things will be different. Both Nikolo and Krampus will accept small gifts which each Society member will bring along to the party, which will then go to Children’s Hospital.
Krampus in Modern America
The reference to a Krampus Ball in 1962 brings us to the question: how and when did Krampus become so popular in America? As I suggested above, this really didn’t happen until the 21st century. Looking through large textbases like Google Books suggests that most English-language references to Krampus in the 20th century were in travel books or other sources referring to traditions in Europe. Even the 1962 event was a celebration of Austrian-American civic pride, making Krampus a symbol of Austria, not a figure to be shared by all Americans.
Early in the new century, though, things began to change. We can identify a few important points on the timeline of the Krampus takeover:
In 2000, designer and editor Monte Beauchamp came across a cache of vintage Krampus cards and published a selection of them in his comic art annual “Blab!” The feature was so popular he ran a second selection in 2002, then expanded those into a book which he published in 2004. This led to a number of outcomes, including art exhibitions, interviews, and exposure for Krampus images in galleries and on the internet. An expanded edition of the book came out in 2010.
In 2003, filmmaker Cameron Jamie released “Kranky Klaus,” a documentary following the Gold Pass Krampuses on their annual rampage in Austria. The film has no commentary at all, just footage of the Krampuses and St. Nicholas performing house visits, ritual combat with other troupes, and even mock assaults on passers-by and other bystanders. The film is atmospheric and disturbing, and provides no historical context or explanation of the action—which might have inspired viewers to find out more on their own.
In the early 2010s, the first Krampus parades and runs in the U.S. were founded in cities like Los Angeles and Philadelphia. There are now dozens of events nationwide.
In 2012, Gerald Brom published “Krampus: The Yule Lord,” the first American novel about Krampus. Illustrated with Brom’s own artwork, the novel received positive reviews and accolades. The following year, Brom won the Lifetime Artistic Achievement Award at the Chesley Awards, as well as the Grandmaster recognition at the Spectrum Awards.
In 2014, Austrian actor Christoph Waltz appeared on “The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon,” describing Krampus traditions to a huge late-night audience. This followed Krampus appearing in episodes of such TV shows as “Scooby Doo, “Grimm,” and “American Dad.”
In 2016, Al Ridenour published “The Krampus and the Old, Dark Christmas,” the first nonfiction book in English about the Krampus tradition. Ridenour’s book treats the tradition both ethnographically and historically, covering the medieval roots of Krampus as well as current practices among Austrian Krampus troupes. Ridenour spent a lot of time with Krampus performers and interviewed many Krampuses, making his book a landmark study of wintertime folklore.
Still, even with all those milestones, no event was more influential than the 2015 release of the comedy horror film “Krampus.” The film met with surprising success: it topped the box office for its opening day, and was number 2 for its opening weekend, which is unusual for a horror film that isn’t part of a long running franchise. It has since become a cult classic. Although by far the most successful, it was part of a trend of Krampus movies, which also included “Krampus, the Christmas Devil” (2013), “Krampus: The Reckoning” (2015), “Krampus, the Devil Returns” (2016), “Krampus Unleashed” (2016), “Mother Krampus” (2017), “Krampus: Origins” (2018), “Sister Krampus” (2021), “Bigfoot vs. Krampus” (2021) and “Granny Krampus” (2024). In addition to horror movies, Krampus has begun to appear in more mainstream Christmas movies, most notably “Red One” (2024).
What was behind this spectacular rise in popularity? We can only speculate. Factors like the increasing interest in Halloween throughout the 21st century, the revival of interest in “folk horror,” “dark folklore,” and similar genres, and the advent of “Zombie walks” in 2000, suggest that the English-language world was yearning for darker imagery in the holiday season. They met this urge by incorporating more scary and supernatural elements, including disturbing costumes and large-scale enactments, into the winter season. Krampus was a perfect fit for this changing mood.
In addition, as Al Ridenour pointed out in an interview with “Vice,” there have always been counterculture responses to the sweet, nostalgic, and arguably saccharine Christmases associated with Norman Rockwell, and to the commercialized Christmas associated with Coca-Cola. He cites neopagan Yule celebrations in the 1960s, Christmas horror films of the 1970s and 1980s, and satirical events like Santacon in the 1990s. Krampus, he argues, is a new iteration of this pushback against commercial or sentimental Christmas for people raised in a post-punk world.
I’ve commented before on Folklife Today about the connections among various seasonal traditions of disguise and trickery. American Trick or Treat on Halloween is an innovation of the 1930s. Before that, roving bands of disguised youth went door-to-door and paraded in the streets on Thanksgiving, which falls in late November. St. Nicholas eve, the traditional Krampus night, is just a week or two later. Two weeks after that, we arrive at traditional mumming season in the week before Christmas.
We’ve noted that the quack doctor, a fixture of British mumming plays, is also a character in Krampus traditions. It’s equally true that Saints and devils (including Beelzebub and Little Devil Doubt) are features of many mumming troupes. Many characters and costumes associated with Halloween, St. Nicholas Day, and Christmas go back to medieval dramas shared all over Europe. The more general practice of roving on a winter’s night, singing and playing as we go, reaches back to our ancient forebears.
Krampus thus belongs to a family of traditions that helps us cope with the darkness and cold of winter. In some communities, the gift-giving inherent in these practices can be a way of redistributing wealth to those who need it most in a time of scarcity. The plays and processions also add color, joy, and entertainment to an otherwise dark time of year. Meanwhile, the terror inspired by a good Halloween costume, a fearsome Day of the Dead makeup job, or a spectacular Krampus outfit allows us to experience and overcome our greatest fears in the relative safety of our communities. Whatever outlandish costumes we wear, whatever tricks we play, and whatever dramas or songs we perform, many of us have spent our lives lighting the darkness by drawing from the same deep well of ideas, images, and winter traditions.
Though he may be more widely known in the new century, it seems Krampus was always part of us.
Curious about Krampus? Come to the Great Hall of the Library of Congress on December 17 at 3:00 pm and you might catch a glimpse of him!
Comments (11)
Totally interesting. I grew up near Frankenmuth, MI and we had a Christmas custom of dressing as Santa (or something worse), and going from house to house with a bag of candy and nuts. Hosts would give us wine, usually homemade, and other alcoholic drinks. Of course, we were under legal age.
While living jn Bavaria in 2023 the town i lived in (Weiden in der Oberfalz) had a big Krampus celebration/parade. What i found fascinating was that the German kids all thought it hilarious, while the American kids (there was an American Army base close by) were terrified, crying……
Thank you so much for this!
I learned so much more concerning a childhood tradition I grew up with in my Washington DC home (synchronicity at its best ;)) My late mother’s birthday was December 5 so I knew the surface level of this from the very start. Given both parents had most immediate roots in Bavaria — my father’s extending all the way to Eastern Europe (probably my mother too) — this was a part of the story telling around bringing the Christmas decorations out after our birthday dinner for Mom. My Mother was born in Lancaster Pennsylvania to a family who seemed to have touched EVERY Germanic religious tradition that state had to offer! My father a Southern Methodist had a lot of catching up to do with the “lore storehouse” of his beloved wife. I always felt this to be the beginning of a much more sophisticated level of subtle psychology for me and am so glad that it was an early part of my inner life. Thank you so much for this again. I can’t tell you how happy I am to have taken all this in during the very early morning hours of St. Nicholas Day.
Another source behind his burgeoning popularity in the 21st century was likely the humorous David Sedaris essay “Six to eight black men”, published in DRESS YOUR FAMILY IN CORDUROY AND DENIM (2004). Although I don’t believe Krampus was mentioned by name, it is where I – and no doubt other NPR-loving listeners – first learned of the tradition.
Thanks for your comment! Sedaris was not describing the Krampus tradition, but a different tradition prevalent in the Netherlands. There are many “rough companions” of St. Nicholas in European folklore, but it’s unclear how closely related they are. The Dutch do not call their characters Krampuses, and as Sedaris’s title makes clear, they are men rather than demons. The tradition Sedaris critiques in the essay is widely seen as racist now, so it is unlikely ever to become popular in the United States.
Someone dressed up as Krampus at a local event here in the south last year. The public outcry was hysterical. People were calling it the devil. All because of someone dressed in a costume. Southerners get real worked up about some things.
Traditions were carried over from paganism into Christianity to get masses to convert. Good and evil forces have always traveled together in story, myth and religious practices to express the duality of choice we have. I spent a few years of my youth in Vienna, Austria and as a child found the images and tradition of Krampus comical and sensible as a choice we make as children to be rewarded appropriately for our choice of behavior. Loved this in-depth story and the walk into my memory of these images. Thank you and may we choose to be good citizens this year and avoid visits from Krampus
You need to read a new book about the battle between Claus and Krampus. “The Next Santa Claus” by Phil “Bootstrap” Ludos available on Amazon. A story when dark forces emerge to eliminate Christmas forever. A battle-hardened special forces veteran’s mission becomes more than just survival, it becomes a fight for the soul of a skeptical world. This was where I first learned about Krampus among other things and honestly I couldn’t put the book down. Believe me, it is a great story combining magic with reality.
Dr. Suess. Grinch. Krampus. Correlation? Mmm…
I grew up in Germany on the Rhine.
I remember one December 5th evening. Ruprecht came to our house. my brother was hiding behind the stove, but I didn’t fit because I was older. We both were scared. Never did find out who played Ruprecht!
I wonder if the “bogeymen” in the old Laurel and Hardy movie “Babes in Toyland” were inspired by Krampus?