Ireland: Island of Saints and Sorcerers

CASTLE POOK, Ireland (Reuters) - In the small village of Doneraile, southwestern Ireland, Santa Claus is really a witch.

Bev Richardson, a genial Englishman with a bushy, silver beard and twinkling blue eyes, dons a red suit and plays Father Christmas every year for the benefit of the local children.

In real life, however, Halloween is more his thing.

"I'm a hedge witch, I make healing potions and small charms," Richardson told Reuters from "Castle Pook," his 18th century cottage nestling on a "coven" of 13 acres in county Cork.

Salvaged and rebuilt by Richardson and his wife Del using plenty of recycled materials, including old supermarket fridge doors for windows, from the outside, Castle Pook does not look like a witch's pad.

Inside, however, the house is adorned with hand-carved wands, crystal balls, magic charms, and potions, the bookshelves are stuffed with tomes on mystics and fairies and at night, bats hover overhead.

A stone's throw away is the real Castle Pook, an imposing 12th century stronghold, whose fairy legends are believed to have inspired the character Puck in Shakespeare's "A Midsummer Night's Dream."

To celebrate festivals such as Halloween and the pagan new year referred to as Samhain (pronounced Sow-in), Richardson swaps his jeans for his ceremonial white-hooded gown and goes barefoot into the forest for a "circle" ceremony of prayer.

HIBERNIAN HOGWARTS

Over the past seven years, the Richardsons have developed Castle Pook into a kind of magic conference center where pagans gather to celebrate festivals, discuss their spirituality or, increasingly, take part in witchcraft workshops.

There might not be instruction in broomstick navigation or levitation, but outside of a J.K. Rowling novel this is probably as close as you'll get to Harry Potter's Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Last month, more than 50 wizards, witches and druids congregated at Castle Pook for a weekend of ceremony and demonstrations.

Kicking off the classes, a group of Irish wizards gave a workshop on how to divine the auric field -- the energy that every person is supposed to radiate.

Later, a druid from Cornwall in southwest England gave a talk on the Ogham alphabet, an ancient Celtic script used by witches, and there was instruction on how to make a wand from bog oak.

Spurred on by the success of these gatherings, which have attracted witches and wizards from California to Croatia, the Richardsons hope to establish a full-time witchcraft school.

"I want this to be a place where people can come and explore their spirituality. If they want particular courses or instruction then we can organize that," said Richardson.

Unlike Harry Potter, Richardson's witchcraft centers around preparing herb-based healing potions and organising spiritual ceremonies for other pagans.

Visitors who take part in circle ceremonies at Castle Pook have sometimes remarked on their religious flavor.

Born on the Isle of Man, Richardson has been a witch since his teens, when he was attracted to the teachings of Gerald Gardiner, the late founder of the Wicca movement, which is a nature-based religion.

He never uses the term "warlock" to describe himself as it is considered a religious slur in the pagan community. "Warlock" is an old Scottish word meaning "traitor" or "oath-breaker."

He does not indulge in spells and has a straightforward message for anyone looking for a love potion: "Get a life."

Richardson's beliefs center around nature and he is keen to dispel any notions of blood-thirsty pagans on the hunt for human sacrifices.

"I want to present my spiritual community as a peace-loving community, not a bunch of lunatics."

PAGAN IRELAND

The Richardsons, parents of seven children, are part of a growing number of people in Ireland who define themselves as pagan.

Disappointment with the Catholic Church, whose influence in Ireland has crumbled over the past decade on the back of a string of sex scandals, is a significant factor in the increasing number of people turning away from the religious mainstream.

"People feel the need for some sort of spiritual tradition in their life which is not being served by the established churches," said one Dublin-based pagan who declined to be named.

It is impossible to put an exact figure on the number of pagans in Ireland as most of them are coy about publicizing their beliefs and many prefer to practice their spirituality alone, but there are believed to be thousands.

"We hold meetings once a month to discuss different aspects of paganism and over the course of the year at least 100 people will have taken part, from all walks of life and all sorts of professions."

Ireland's Celtic past, exemplified by the large number of stone circles, passage tombs and dolmen (stone tables) scattered around the countryside, has also made it a popular destination for pagans from overseas.

Early morning mists and the lush green scenery are a further draw to those seeking some sort of Earth-based spirituality and even among locals who profess to be Roman Catholic there remains a strong pagan tradition.

Celtic folklore and legends are still taught at Irish schools and in some parts of the countryside, fields with fairy forts -- small stone circles -- are left fallow for fear of annoying the vengeful "little people."

Catholicism in Ireland has a strong pagan vein running through it.

The shamrock, believed to have been used by Saint Patrick to teach the Irish about the Christian holy trinity was an ancient symbol of the goddess Brigit, while the Celtic cross was created by superimposing the pagan sun symbol on to the crucifix.

At the close of the circle ceremonies some participants undress to feel closer to nature.

As one American woman put it: "It's just like a Quakers' meeting in the nude."