Bar your doors: the darkness is coming
Samhuinn: celebrating the coming of Winter and the Celtic New Year on Halloween
Published: Nov 01, 2008, Veritas
It’s a brisk night on the last night of October; weightless dots of white snow spin around street lights in the wind like specks of cigarette ash, and a wintry breeze penetrates the expecting crowd of mutants, zombies and misfits all looking on at the mysterious procession of Samhuinn making its way down the Royal Mile.
For some this is Halloween, but for many tonight marks the coming of winter and, as many believe, the celebration of the Celtic New Year- This is Samhuinn.
St Giles’ Cathedral looms in shadow overlooking the grey cobblestones of Parliament Square, where tourists and night crawlers alike wait in anticipation as the thunderous beat of drums comes closer and louder.
Samhuinn was resurrected by the Beltane Fire Society in 1996, by creator Mark Oxbrow. Based on ancient Greek mythology and what is known of Iron Age and Celtic ritual themes, Samhuinn is the time when the Rising Sisters, or Pleiades, proclaim the triumph of darkness over light.
For Ancient Celts it was also the time of the year where nature became barren in the darkness of winter, and the cattle would have to be shepherded to lowlands for protection.
“Samhuinn literally means ’summer’s end’. It marks the end of the light half of the year and the beginning of the dark winter half. Some scholars have believed that it was the ‘Celtic New Year’ but the evidence isn’t conclusive. Samhuinn is a festival rather than a ceremony,” explains Mark Oxbrow.
“We don’t really know very much about Iron Age rituals or themes. Samhuinn and Beltane are 21st century festivals with ancient roots. Our celebrations draw people of many different faiths and people of no faith. They gather together to participate, to join a vibrant creative community, or just to come and enjoy the spectacle.”
Scantily clad men and women painted head to toe in bright red move eerily amongst each other at the head of the procession, dancing, skipping and laughing wildly. Known as the Red Men, they represent the ‘mischief makers’ who for one night are devoid of any inhibitions and carry out lewd acts of debauchery, seduction and foolishness.
The carnival has arrived. Tall cloaked figures illuminated by flaming torches drift into the square, as druid women crack their whips at the ground to shepherd the increasing gathering of onlookers. The Red Men take the stage then, dancing to a barely audible acoustic guitar and singing folk inspired harmonies.
The Beltane Fire Society was established more than 20 years ago in Edinburgh and has established four modern day revival festivals: Beltane, Imbolc, Lughnasadh and Samhuinn. The four events aim to revive the ancient traditions based on the relationship between seasonal transition and ‘ourselves’.
Popular perceptions of Beltane are somewhat controversial however, with many people associating the society with Paganism and devil worship.
“Some people believe that Santa is a work of the Devil and the Easter Bunny is a pagan fertility figure – so we’re always going to get some stick from someone. As soon as you have half-clad folk painted red carrying fiery torches you’ll upset some people,” explains Oxbrow.
“But the Beltane and Samhuinn festivals are celebrations that simply mark the boundaries between the light and dark halves of the year.
“They are created by hundreds of dedicated, unpaid, creative, enthusiastic people who dance and build and sing and rehearse and take down scaffolding in the rain because ultimately they love it. Everyone makes their own costumes, weaves their own stories and holds their own beliefs,” says Oxbrow.
The stage is little more than a raised black platform, using only its performers as props and live instruments as its soundtrack. Unlike most events, the Beltane Fire Society has managed to sustain a genuine edge to its festivals, with a non-profit based approach; its emphasis is on community and participation.
Then the drums begin – like thumping heart beats against thick leather skin with each thud infectiously reverberating through the crowd who now move jauntily to the music. The beats start and stop, punctuated by intervals of carnival madness by the warlocks, druids and masked men and women from the procession.
A symbol resembling a cow is burnt on stage, erupting into flames amidst the beating of the drums. Clouds of smoke bellow into the cold air dousing a blanket of fog over the performers and onlookers. The flames light up the stage projecting dancing shadows on the cobblestones, whilst the ceremony lingers in its final climatic phase.
The revival of ancient rituals such as Samhuinn in Edinburgh is part of a global trend, with festivals such as Burning Man in America drawing thousands of people yearly to revel in modern adaptations of ancient ideas and ceremony. Modern day Halloween is now a much more commercialised affair and bears little resemblance to its ancient counterparts, in a similar way that the image of Santa Claus in the 21st Century is based on an advertising scheme for Coca Cola used in the 1930s.
“Halloween is hugely popular around the world but many people think that Halloween is an American import. In reality Halloween is a Scottish festival that crossed the ocean to America and has come full circle during World War Two,” says Oxbrow.
“The Samhuinn Festival celebrates Scottish Halloween traditions, legends and folklore. The Cailleach Bheur, the ancient Highland hag Queen of Winter, holds court at Samhuinn and the festival draws together a host of Scottish Halloween customs including Goloshans Plays, guising and mischief making.
“Is Samhuinn relevant in 21st century Scotland? It depends what sort of Scottish culture we want to have… Do we think that Scotland’s culture should be tartan, shortbread, bagpipes and haggis? Or is there a place for a riotous night of mischief and misrule as a torch lit [mob] of ancient hag giantesses, witches, wolves, winter kings, green men, fairy folk, musicians and drummers march from Edinburgh Castle down the Royal Mile?” says Oxbrow.
Slowly groups of performers disappear from the stage, and with them the crowd begins to dissipate like sand slipping through an hourglass. Some performers continue to dance ritually at the head of the stage but it soon becomes clear that the show has dwindled into a post climatic display.
As more and more dancers slip away into the darkness, the remaining onlookers are left with little evidence of the festival at all. Finishing bottles of liquor and smoking cigarettes through thick mittens, the crowd flit into the streets converging with the Friday night Halloween revelers, the festival of Samhuinn now just a memory… until next year.
