December 1st, 1895
Dear Hunters,
As we move
towards our darkest night, the winter solstice, I find my attention is required
by seasonal ceremonies, as my attention veers toward ways to which I was not
privy to during my own childhood. Of the very many folks who we rub shoulders
with from day to day, there are countless opportunities to share in their
creeds and customs, many of which culminate this time of year. As a scientist
and a scholar, coincidences are not generally to be relied on as satisfactory
explanations. Therefore, I believe that in such tales, however disparate they
appear, there runs a common thread of truth that unites them. Perhaps this
thread starts somewhere far in our murky past: a quiet, still time; the deep
midwinter of our collective history.
My interest lies
in the dark specificities of some midwinter traditions. I will focus on those
of Europe, though since coming across these findings I am certain that other
regions and faiths have their fair share of midwinter monsters. While one
gives, another takes away. It is a rejection of nature to assume otherwise.
The first, and
most relevant belongs to Francophone peoples and the Low Countries. Père
Fouettard, Old Man Whipper, was once a butcher who was known to lure children
to their deaths. His name is now invoked to terrify naughty children and warn
them that they may be headed to a similar fate. The story originates in
medieval France, so it's unlikely that we'll know for sure if there is an
association to our own Butcher. There is innate wariness towards those who
carve meat.
There are
similar figures throughout France and Germany. They go by many names, for
instance, the German Knecht Ruprecht and French Hans Trapp, their archetypal
identity remains consistent. These are elderly male companions of the
benevolent Saint Nicholas. Some tales threaten children with only a light
beating, while others threaten them with cannibalism. Their correlation with
Saint Nicholas forms a pantheon of sorts, one which likely has its roots in a
pre-Christian winter celebration.
Frau Perchta, a
witch, performs a similar role as the male figures and emerges from further East.
Going by many names, for instance, Frau Holle or Frau Gode, she again seems to
originate out of an ancient pre-Christian origin, some attributing her
evolution from Frigg and Celtic figures. She is similarly brutal, threatening
children with disembowelment with an iron axe, and perhaps stuffing them with
straw.
Now that the
human figures are covered, we can move onto the non-human. In Iceland when the
winter is especially brutal, a giant ogre Gryla descends from her cave to hunt
children, to cook in the stew. She is accompanied by thirteen Yule Lads, pranksters
who harass townsfolk. Also lurking in the countryside is the Yule Cat, a
vicious feline that stalks those who've misbehaved. Perhaps it is rational that
a place as hostile as Iceland in winter would have a great many threats in
wintertime. But such anthropological and meteorically informed readings should
not impress upon the serious work of occultism.
The strange and
deathly apparition of Mari Lwyd stalks the valleys of Wales. With the visage of
a horses skull, and draped in a long travelling cloak, this figure visits from
house to house at midwinter. However, the precise meaning seems to have been
lost at some point, buried in a long-forgotten and ancient ritual. She
represents death, perhaps once a bringer of fertility corrupted by some
irresistible and dark power.
In the highlands
of Scotland lies another legend. With the long beak of a magpie and a ragged
cloak of brambles, the Ragman is a different sort of menace to naughty
children. The Ragman lives on the edges, always moving unnervingly just out of
sight. In the depths of the night, he steals gifts from the undeserving. It's
said that his lair, somewhere high in the mountains, is stacked high with his
spoils. Generations of ungiven gifts rusting and rotting away.
The most famous
of all these traditions, and perhaps the rawest, is the Alpine Krampus. A
half-goat, half-demon monster that follows Saint Nicholas, threatening those
children who have performed misdeeds. Immediately, one notes its similarity to
other figures listed prior. However, while appearing human, the Krampus has the
visage of the Horned God, that devil worshipped by witches.
Winter is not
just a time of human hunger, but spiritual hunger and that which lurks beneath
the veil of reality is subject to it too. The monsters enumerated here share so
many parallels with the grotesques we face daily in the swamp. Is there a
connection? It would be irresponsible of me to assume not. While our own,
softened, American traditions seemed to have done away with these menacing
companions, we would do well to remember the dark underside of the winter
season and of the corruption that lies at the heart of man.
Regards,
Harold Black
To experience
more Hunt: Showdown lore (and fight a few monsters of our own), get yourself a
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