Between Samhain and Halloween – The Night of the Black Cat

October carries a certain hush. The air turns colder, the light thins, and somewhere between dusk and dawn, the veil seems to grow thin enough for old stories to breathe again. Among them walks a silent figure: the black cat, guardian, omen, and misunderstood wanderer of autumn nights.

From Samhain to All Saints

Long before Halloween had a name, the Celts celebrated Samhain, marking the end of the harvest and the start of winter. A liminal time when the world of the living brushed against the realm of spirits. Fires burned through the night to guide wandering souls, and offerings were left outside doors to honor ancestors and ward off mischief.

Centuries later, the Church sought to bring these ancient customs under its roof, creating All Saints’ Day and All Souls’ Day to replace the pagan feast. The intention was clear: to sanctify what could not be erased. Yet beneath the hymns, the old embers still glowed.In truth, All Saints is Samhain reborn in holy garments, a rebranding of an older rhythm that once belonged to the earth, the fire, and the ancestors.

When European settlers later carried their fading customs across the ocean, these threads wove themselves into a new tapestry: Halloween. Ironically, the holiday that some now condemn as “foreign” was born right here, in Europe’s misty fields and stone circles.

The Cat Sìth – Spirit of the Celtic Night

In Scottish and Irish folklore, one creature ruled Samhain’s shadows: the Cat Sìth, or Cait Sìth in Gaelic - a spectral black cat the size of a dog, marked by a white patch on its chest.According to legend, it roamed the Highlands, silent and watchful, slipping between worlds. Some tales said it could steal a person’s soul before the gods claimed it, especially if no prayers or fires protected the body. Others saw it as a guardian spirit, guiding the departed safely beyond the veil.

To appease the Cat Sìth during Samhain, villagers left out bowls of milk, a gesture of respect, and perhaps of caution. Folklorists like Katharine Briggs later noted that these offerings reflected older Celtic rites of hospitality toward fae beings...never to be commanded, only honored.

Over time, this mystical cat’s image became tangled with fear. As Christianity spread, the Cat Sìth’s otherworldly nature was recast as demonic. Its midnight fur, once a mark of the sacred unknown, was now a shadow to be feared.

From Familiar to Forsaken

By the Middle Ages, black cats had become woven into Europe’s darker superstitions. They were seen as the companions of witches, or even witches in disguise. In some regions, a woman living alone with a cat risked being accused of witchcraft. What had once been a creature of myth and mystery was turned into a symbol of suspicion.

Historians believe this fear grew not from folklore itself but from misunderstanding: the Church’s attempt to draw a hard line between divine and natural magic. The Cat Sìth’s pagan echoes were too powerful to erase, so they were demonized instead.

Crossing the Ocean – and Coming Back Again

When old-world customs crossed the Atlantic, the black cat traveled with them, stitched into folk memory and superstition. In America, Halloween blended Irish, Scottish, and English traditions, and the cat found a new role: no longer a spirit-stealer, but a mascot of mystery.

Ironically, this reinvented symbol later returned to Europe through pop culture, carrying pumpkins, witches, and trick-or-treaters in tow. And still, the black cat remained at its center: elegant, silent, and eternal.

Seen Through Superstition and Soul

Today, the black cat continues to walk the fine line between fear and fascination. In many cultures it’s once again a symbol of luck, intuition, and independence, traits that echo its ancient roots more than its medieval curse.

Modern folklore scholars note that the Cat Sìth’s myth endures because it speaks to something timeless: our respect for mystery, and our unease when we cannot explain what we feel. The cat has always existed on that edge - between affection and awe, between hearth and shadow.

The Night of the Cats

So when October ends and candles flicker against the dark, remember the lineage behind those glowing eyes on your doorstep.Before there was Halloween, there was Samhain. Before witches, there was the Cat Sìth.And before fear, there was reverence for the creatures who walk softly between worlds, reminding us that magic was never lost.

I’ve always had a soft spot for black cats. My first, named Link, blended perfectly into my black sofa, a lesson in how easily we mistake invisibility for mystery (and proof that the only real danger black cats pose is that you might accidentally sit on one if your furniture matches their fur).When we found him, he was quiet and withdrawn - a black cat overlooked for too long in the shelter, fading a little more each day. Maybe it wasn’t darkness that surrounded him, but the weight of being unseen. Yet even then, there was something gentle in his eyes, like a spark waiting for a reason to return.