The History of Halloween
Introduction: Shadows and Bonfires
Each autumn, as the leaves turn to gold and the nights lengthen, Britain transforms into a theatre of shadows and laughter. Pumpkins flicker on porches, children in capes and masks roam suburban streets, and supermarkets brim with cobwebs and chocolate skeletons. Halloween, the night of October 31st, has become one of the most visually striking festivals in the British calendar—a curious blend of ancient superstition, Christian ritual, and modern consumer spectacle.
Yet beneath the plastic fangs and glow-in-the-dark costumes lies a far older story - one rooted in fire and fear, in the turn of the agricultural year, and in our enduring fascination with death. To understand Halloween as we know it today, we must travel back to the mists of Celtic Britain, to the fires of Samhain, where it all began.
Samhain: The Celtic New Year
Long before Halloween was marked with pumpkins and parties, the ancient Celts celebrated Samhain (pronounced “sow-in”). This festival, observed across the British Isles and Ireland around the 1st of November, marked the end of the harvest and the beginning of winter - the “dark half” of the year.
For the Celts, time was circular, not linear. The year was divided between light and dark, warmth and cold, life and death. Samhain was not merely a date - it was a liminal threshold, a twilight season between worlds when the veil separating the living from the dead grew thin. Fires were lit on hilltops to ward off malevolent spirits and guide the souls of the departed. Livestock were brought in from the fields, the final harvest was stored, and communities gathered for feasting, storytelling, and ritual.
According to early Irish texts such as the Tochmarc Emire and Táin Bó Cúailnge, Samhain was a time when supernatural forces roamed freely. The Aos Sí—the “fairy folk” or spirits - emerged from their mounds, demanding offerings and respect. People left food and drink outside their homes to appease these beings, a custom that would echo centuries later in the “trick-or-treat” tradition.
Fire played a central role. The Celts believed it purified and protected; old fires were extinguished and new communal ones lit from sacred flames. Livestock were driven through the smoke to cleanse them of disease, and household fires were rekindled from the communal blaze, symbolising unity and renewal.
The Roman Influence: Pomona and Feralia
When the Romans conquered Britain in the 1st century AD, they brought their own festivals of the dead. Two in particular - Feralia, honouring departed souls, and Pomona, celebrating the goddess of fruit and orchards - intermingled with the native Samhain rites.
Pomona’s symbol was the apple, and her feast was associated with fertility and abundance. The tradition of apple bobbing - in which participants attempt to catch apples floating in water using only their mouths - may well derive from these Roman festivities. This simple game, now a harmless children’s activity, once carried deeper connotations of divination and fortune-telling, linking love, luck, and the mysteries of the afterlife.
Through centuries of cultural fusion, Samhain gradually began to absorb elements of Roman ritual, producing a hybrid festival that still honoured the dead and the turning of the seasons, yet began to take on new mythic flavours.
Christianisation: All Hallows and the Saints’ Vigil
As Christianity spread through the British Isles in the early medieval period, the Church sought to integrate and sanctify existing pagan customs rather than abolish them outright. Around the 8th century, Pope Gregory III declared All Saints’ Day - also known as All Hallows’ Day - to be celebrated on November 1st. It honoured all Christian saints, known and unknown. The evening before became All Hallows’ Eve, which in time was contracted to “Halloween.”
The new festival reframed the pagan commemoration of the dead within a Christian context. Instead of appeasing nature spirits, believers now prayed for the souls of the departed faithful. Yet many older practices endured in disguise. Bonfires continued to blaze, processions roamed the countryside, and villagers still carved lanterns and offered food - though now ostensibly in honour of the saints.
During the medieval period, souling emerged as a Christianised custom in Britain. Poor folk, often children, would go door to door offering prayers for the souls of the household’s dead in exchange for “soul cakes” - small sweet buns marked with a cross. This practice, known as “going a-souling,” is one of the direct ancestors of trick-or-treating.
The rhyme was well known across England:
“A soul! A soul! For a soul-cake!
Pray you, good mistress, a soul-cake!
One for Peter, two for Paul,
Three for Him who made us all.”
The cakes, candles, and prayers all reflected a Christian attempt to domesticate the pagan season of spirits, transforming its dread into devotion.
Medieval Superstitions and Divinations
Even under Christianisation, the British autumn retained its superstitious undertones. Halloween became associated with divination - especially about love and marriage. Young people performed rituals to glimpse their future spouses: peeling apples in one long strip to see if the skin formed an initial; placing nuts in the fire to predict romantic compatibility (“If he loves me, pop and fly; if not, lie still and die”).
In Scotland and parts of northern England, girls would hang wet sheets before the fire, hoping to see the shadow of their future husband appear. Others looked into mirrors by candlelight, believing they would see the face of the man they were destined to marry - or, more ominously, a skull if death awaited them first.
These eerie games mingled fear with excitement, love with mortality - themes that have haunted Halloween ever since.
Guy Fawkes Night and the Decline of Old Halloween
By the 17th century, Halloween began to lose some of its prominence in England, overshadowed by another festival of fire and mischief - Guy Fawkes Night on November 5th. Following the failed Gunpowder Plot of 1605, bonfires were encouraged to celebrate the foiling of Catholic conspirators. Over time, it absorbed many of the pyromantic and mischievous elements once associated with Samhain.
In many parts of England, the two festivals blurred together. Masks, bonfires, and mischief-making became hallmarks of early November, while Halloween itself lingered more strongly in Scotland, Ireland, and parts of Wales, where Celtic traditions had deeper roots.
The Scottish and Irish Legacy
It was from Scotland and Ireland that many of the customs we now recognise as Halloween survived and evolved. The Scots celebrated Oidhche Shamhna, while the Irish kept Oíche Shamhna - both names directly derived from the ancient Celtic festival.
Instead of pumpkins, people carved grotesque faces into turnips or mangel-wurzels, placing candles inside to ward off evil spirits. These “jack-o’-lanterns” were inspired by the old Irish legend of Stingy Jack, a trickster who deceived the Devil and was doomed to wander the earth with only a hollowed-out turnip to light his way.
Costumed “guisers” went from house to house, performing songs or reciting verses in exchange for food or coins. This “guising” tradition predates American-style trick-or-treating and was widely practiced in Scotland and northern England well into the 19th century.
Fires, too, remained a key feature. In rural communities, the Halloween bonfire served as both a communal gathering and a ritual of purification - echoing the ancient Samhain fires that once blazed on Celtic hilltops.
Crossing the Atlantic: The American Reinvention
While Britain saw Halloween’s influence wane under Protestant restraint, Irish and Scottish immigrants carried their traditions across the Atlantic in the 18th and 19th centuries. There, in the cultural melting pot of America, Halloween underwent a dramatic transformation.
The pumpkin, native to North America, replaced the humble turnip - it was larger, easier to carve, and far more photogenic. Communities organised parties, games, and parades. By the early 20th century, Halloween had shed much of its religious and superstitious tone, evolving into a secular celebration of creativity, costume, and fun.
Trick-or-treating became standardised in the United States during the 1930s and 1940s, formalising the old guising tradition into a family-friendly exchange. By the mid-20th century, Halloween had become one of America’s most beloved and commercially successful holidays - and, inevitably, its influence began to drift back across the Atlantic.
Halloween Returns to Britain
By the 1970s and 1980s, the “American” style of Halloween - complete with pumpkins, costumes, and trick-or-treating - had returned to British shores through film, television, and popular culture. Movies like E.T., Hocus Pocus, and Halloween glamorised the spooky celebration, capturing the imagination of a new generation.
At first, British reception was mixed. Some lamented Halloween’s perceived “Americanisation” and its clash with traditional Bonfire Night. Yet the younger generation embraced it eagerly, drawn to its theatricality and sense of communal play.
Supermarkets capitalised, of course. Shelves filled with costumes, sweets, and décor. Schools began hosting Halloween discos; pubs introduced themed nights. In urban areas, trick-or-treating became a widespread family event. Even rural villages revived old customs, blending local folklore with modern festivities.
In Scotland, the older guising tradition persisted alongside American imports. Children still performed songs, poems, or jokes before receiving treats - an echo of the older, more performative spirit of the night.
Wales and the Celtic Heartbeat
In Wales, Halloween has always resonated with a deeper folkloric undercurrent. The Welsh equivalent, Nos Calan Gaeaf (“the night before winter”), was marked with its own set of superstitions. It was believed that spirits - known as Ysbrydion - wandered the land, and that Yr Hwch Ddu Gwta, the “tailless black sow,” roamed the hills in pursuit of souls.
Welsh families once built large communal bonfires known as coelcerth, around which they performed divinations. Stones were marked with each person’s name and placed around the fire’s edge; the following morning, if a stone was missing, it was believed that person would not survive the year.
These customs lingered well into the 19th century, and in some rural communities, faint traces remain today - modern descendants sometimes reimagine them as part of a Celtic heritage revival.
Modern British Halloween: Between the Sacred and the Supermarket
In the Britain of today, Halloween sits comfortably between the sacred and the commercial, the playful and the macabre. It has become a night of costume parties, horror film marathons, and community gatherings - but also a time when folklore and myth are briefly revived.
Pumpkin trails wind through suburban streets; heritage sites host ghost walks; and churches hold “light parties” as wholesome alternatives. Across Britain, Halloween’s dual nature - pagan and Christian, ancient and modern - is ever apparent.
The rise of social media has transformed it again. Instagram aesthetics and TikTok trends have made Halloween not just a night but a season - a visual festival of gothic creativity. British creators blend American-style decorations with local folklore: witchy cottages in the Cotswolds, Victorian ghosts in London’s East End, Celtic deities revived through digital art.
Meanwhile, schools teach the history of Samhain; museums explore Celtic spirituality; and even the National Trust embraces spooky storytelling to engage younger audiences. Halloween has become, paradoxically, both a commercial holiday and a vessel for cultural preservation.
The Enduring Themes: Death, Renewal, and the Human Spirit
At its heart, Halloween remains a meditation on mortality - a safe, playful way for us to confront the darkness. In ancient Samhain, this was literal: winter meant hardship and death. Fires were lit to keep fear at bay. Today, our fears are psychological, not agricultural, but the ritual endures.
We decorate our homes with skeletons and ghosts not merely for amusement but to domesticate our anxieties - to turn death into décor, and darkness into laughter. The masks we wear are both protection and expression, allowing us to explore hidden facets of ourselves.
In this sense, Halloween in Britain has come full circle. It is once again a night of transformation and threshold—a modern echo of the Celtic New Year, when identities blur, boundaries fade, and the world grows briefly, thrillingly strange.
Conclusion: Lighting the Old Fires Again
From the sacred bonfires of Samhain to the glow of a pumpkin in a Cardiff window, Halloween’s journey through British history is one of remarkable endurance. It has weathered conquest, conversion, and commercialisation, adapting with every generation yet always returning to its roots - the dance between life and death, dark and light, fear and joy.
Today’s Halloween may be more plastic than pagan, but beneath the surface, its ancestral pulse still beats. When you see the flicker of candlelight in a carved face, or hear laughter echoing down a darkened street, remember: this is a night older than kings and churches, older than the nations that celebrate it.
It is the night when the veil grows thin - when ancient fires burn again in our suburban hearts - and the living, for a brief, enchanted evening, keep company with the dead.