Going back to our roots

A Samhain festival in Co Meath acts as an annual gathering for Ireland’s growing numbers of Pagans, writes Caomhán Keane.

AS THE Halloween season begins many Irish people continue the traditions passed down to them from one generation to the next, of dressing up like slutty nurses and firing bangers at the neighbour’s dog.

For thousands of Irish Pagans (3,000 on the last census), however, it’s the start of a new year, taking place on the night that the veil between this life and the next life is at its thinnest.

“You are putting the Earth back to sleep for the winter,” says Joe Conlon, who for 15 years has held the Samhain Festival of Fire on the Hill of Ward in Athboy, Co Meath.

“Mother Earth has given you everything you need to survive. So you give thanks for the bounty.”

The Hill, also known as Tlachtgha, was the site the ancient fires were first kindled on Halloween night, to attract the evil spirits to the druid’s who had made an annual pilgrimage there. Once the fire appeared on Tlachtgha, every major hill would follow suit, setting the country a flame to commemorate the death of the sun, as well as the passing of those who had died since the last ‘Oíche Samhain’ on to the next world.

Tlachtgha was also a favoured place of pilgrimage for barren women, who reputedly brought the children of slaves with them to burn in the fire. The sacrifice of these innocents was said to please the gods who, in turn, would make the spirits of the children rise from the flames and into their bodies to be reborn.

Conlon has seen attendance rise at the festival from seven people in 1999 to 2,000 in 2012, with people travelling from as far away as Mexico to attend. Part of the appeal could be that it is not run as a Pagan festival.

“All we ask is that ordinary people respect the druids who consider the event sacred and that the druids respect the people who have turned up for a bit of a laugh.”

Crowds gather at 7.30pm at a ring fort in the centre of Athboy. From there they are led by oil torchlight along the same path the ancient druids would have taken, before stopping at a sacred well half way up the hill, where they are given some words of wisdom on the forthcoming year as well as context on the sacred site.

Then it’s on to the top where a huge fire is lit in a barrel and those assembled pray for good crops or good health or whatever it is they desire in the coming months. There’s tea and coffee, some food and music and the whole thing winds down by 11 o clock.

“Some people dress up as warriors or in druidic dress and we teach everyone the old chants about earth, wind, fire and water. Members of a local Wiccan circle perform the Legend of Tlachtga, the witch who gave the hill its name, who was abducted and raped by the three sons of the biblical Simon Magus, and who died on the hill giving birth to triplets.

“We read out the names of people who have passed on and if you have any problems troubling you, you can write them on a piece of paper and throw them in the fire, leaving them behind you when you descend the hill.”

Conlon has seen some unusual reactions from people who come to Tlachtgha.

“There was one girl, an archeologist, who stopped dead in her tracks when I was leading her up to the site one night and said she couldn’t go any further, her spirit wouldn’t allow it. Another woman felt nauseous until she got off the site. I don’t give too much thought to it but some people believe they might have been here in a past life and had bad memories of the place.”

The fact that the veil between this life and the next is so thin makes Samhain a great night for divination or contact with those who have passed on. Rachel Butler is a trad witch who runs Black Rabbit, a shop in Temple Bar specifically catering to the needs of Pagans.

“Halloween night is a bit like our Christmas so we gather together to cook, brew our own meade and play games with a divination structure.

“When we were children we would peel the skin off apples very finely and drop them in water and the letter it formed was supposed to be the first letter of the person you were going to marry. We did similar things with pastry and tea leaves. It isn’t very accurate but it was a training exercise for us kids to look for messages everywhere.”

Butler thinks glass divination is far more precise. “You put a glass down on a wooden surface and ask yes or no questions. You get a clockwise spin for yes and it moves back and forth for no. Most times we would get an answer, but there has been the odd Halloween where we get nothing and move on to the Tarot cards.

“With divination I am working with my ancestors and asking for advice on my life,” she explains.

Last year most of their questions related to business. But one year Butler was contacted by her dead mother who informed her of her husband’s infidelity. “I had gone down to my brother’s engagement party but I turned the car around and sure enough, there he was in the lay-by with another woman.”

Since Samhain is the beginning of their New Year there is a lot of cleansing involved. “We have a big cauldron on a plinth in the kitchen and we blend a specific sage to cleans our spirit, our environment and our home. We open all the windows to let the old year out the back door and let the new one in the front. We feather ourselves with the smoke and if there is anything we want to ward of in the new year we burn pictures of them.” They also recite Celtic poetry and listen to Pagan music.

There is said to be as many Pagan paths as there are Pagans. From Wicca to Druidry, Hedge Witches and the OTO, ever since the Catholic Church lost its moral authority and the Pagan Federation of Ireland started fighting to ensure they had the same rights as other religions, Butler has noticed a huge spike in people taking their first steps.

“As the only pagan shop in the country we are a base for people. People can come in for a chat and we can recommend books for them to buy or put them in touch with people who can give them more information on their individual journey.”

There are bi-monthly ‘moots’, social gatherings held all over the country where Pagans gather for informal chats, “free of ridicule or condemnation”. The internet has also made the feeling of isolation many solitary pagans might have had a thing of the past.

Because Paganism was seen as anti-religious, many people who practiced openly were on the receiving ends of snide remarks and occasionally physical violence. People working in certain professions — teachers, nurses, doctors, etc — often chose to keep their beliefs private to prevent impediment to their careers.

“I know a lot of pagans who would keep it from their families for fear of not being allowed see their nephews or nieces ever again.”

The Pagan Federation of Ireland is overcoming such bias by having presentation talks to schools, hospitals and interfaith work with the Catholic Church. “They think we worship false gods,” Butler says. “But we believe in one definitive energy that has angry, jealous or whatever aspects. So each of our gods is a named representative of an aspect of the one divinity.”

The torch-lit procession from the Fair Green in Athboy, Co Meath, to the Hill of Tlachtga; starts at 7.30pm on Oct 31.