Exploring the Origins of April Fools' Day: From Ancient Festivals to Modern Pranks

Browse your preferred newspapers or news websites on April 1, and you'll likely encounter some suspicious-looking headlines. As you read on, you'll probably discover that some of these stories are total hoaxes. After all, it's April Fools' Day.

Where does the peculiar tradition of playing pranks on April 1 originate? The brief answer is that its exact origins are uncertain. What is known is that this custom existed in Renaissance Europe and likely has even older roots.

A detail from the Ellesmere Manuscript, f. 182 v. It shows a part of Chaucer’s Nun’s Priest’s Tale, occurring on a date which is apparently April 1. The text begins: Whan that the month in which the world bigan, That highte March, whan God first maked man, Was compleet, and passed were also, Syn March bigan, thritty dayes and two. - Library of Congress

Some believe that the origins of April Fools' Day date back to ancient Roman times, specifically to a festive celebration known as Hilaria, which likely began as an equinox celebration and was held on March 25. In Roman terms, this date was referred to as "the eighth of the Calends of April," linking the festival closely to April 1, the Calends of April. However, there is no concrete evidence to directly associate Hilaria with April Fools' Day, making this theory just one of several proposed by those interested in its history.

Another popular theory suggesting the origin of April Fools’ Day in the Roman Empire traces it back to the era of Emperor Constantine. As the tale goes, a group of fools or jesters persuaded Constantine to allow one of them to be “king for a day.” Constantine agreed, and a jester named “Kugel” was given the role. He proclaimed it a day of merriment, thereby establishing what would become known as April Fools’ Day.

The only issue with that story is that it's a hoax.

Picture this: back in the days of Chaucer’s “Nun’s Priest’s Tale” (around 1390), we find our feathered friend, rooster Chauntecleer, getting bamboozled by a sly fox, only to turn the tables and outwit the fox himself. This poultry prank supposedly happens “Syn March bigan, thritty dayes and two,” which, if you’re counting on your fingers, lands us on April 1. Could this be an ancient nod to April Fools’ Day? Perhaps, but hold your horses—or your roosters—because some scholarly folks think “bigan” was just a medieval typo, and it should actually point to May 2, after March had packed its bags and left town. Even if the scribes did goof up, it might hint that they expected such tomfoolery on April 1. But alas, this still doesn’t prove that April Fools’ Day was a thing back then.

In France, if you get pranked on April Fools’ Day, congratulations! You’ve just been crowned a “poisson d’avril,” or “April fish.” This term first flopped onto the scene in a 1508 poem by Eloy D’Amerval, titled Le Livre de la Deablerie, which you can check out on the French national library’s Gallica site if you’re feeling fancy. But hold your fins—it's unclear whether D’Amerval was talking about April 1st or just poking fun at fools in general. The whole “April fish” idea likely stems from the fact that fish in spring are as hungry as a teenager after school, making them easy to catch. So, being an “April fish” means you’re more gullible than a fish at any other time of year. Just remember, the mere mention of an “April fish” doesn’t automatically mean there was a holiday on April 1st. It might just mean someone’s having a laugh at your expense!

This woodcut from Eloy D’Amerval’s 1508 Livre de la Deablerie purports to show Eloy at work. In fact it was a woodcut used by early French printers to represent other authors as well. [Public Domain Image.]

The real history of New Year’s celebrations in France is like a bowl of mixed nuts—different regions tossing their own parties at different times. Picture this: as early as 1507, folks in France were flipping their calendars to January 1, as if they had a secret memo from Arthur Tilley, who spilled the beans in a 1904 book on Renaissance literature. Now, our buddy Panati seems to be telling tales without a single shred of evidence—no ancient diary entries or dusty party invites to back him up. And his claim about a week-long bash that ropes in April 1? Well, that’s just a wild guess. So, let’s file his story under “funny fiction.”

Portrait of Pope Gregory XIII, who is responsible for the Gregorian Calendar. Mehrerau Monastery, Bregenz, Vorarlberg, Austria. Photo is an original work by Wikimedia user Andreas Praefcke, who assigned it to the Public Domain.

The first certain reference to April Fools’ Day comes from a 1561 Flemish poem by Eduard De Dene, which you can read here. (But only if your Renaissance Flemish is good!) In the poem, a noThe earliest known mention of April Fools’ Day can be found in a 1561 Flemish poem by Eduard De Dene, which you can dive into here. (That is, if your Renaissance Flemish is as sharp as your sense of humor!) In this whimsical tale, a nobleman sends his servant on a series of wild goose chases. The savvy servant soon realizes he's being sent on these “fool’s errands” because it's April 1st.bleman sends his servant on crazy, fruitless errands. The servant recognizes that he is being sent on “fool’s errands” because it’s April 1.

One of the top shenanigans on April 1st is sending people on wild goose chases. Imagine sending a clueless friend to the bookstore to hunt down a copy of the “History of Eve’s Grandmother” or dispatching them to the chemist’s for some “pigeon’s milk.” And let's not forget the classic prank where mischievous lads are sent to the harness shop for a bottle of strap oil—usually resulting in a generous helping of good old-fashioned mischief!

By the time the late nineteenth century rolled around, April Fools’ Day pranks had leveled up to become the Picasso of practical jokes. Picture this: the first masterpiece featured a hat casually lounging on a sidewalk, with a sneaky brick hiding underneath. The unsuspecting victim would inevitably feel the irresistible urge to give the hat a friendly kick, only to have a toe-stubbing encounter with Mr. Brick. Ouch!

The second prank was a classic bait-and-switch scenario. Imagine a shiny wallet or a tantalizing wad of cash just begging to be picked up, but surprise! It had a string attached, and the other end was in the hands of a hidden prankster, ready to yank it away just as you reached for it. Talk about a disappearing act!

And then there was the pièce de résistance: the smoking coin. This little devil had been heated up with fire or a cigar, left lying around like it was just waiting for a new owner. But as soon as someone tried to pocket this hot find, they’d get a sizzling surprise. Who knew spare change could double as a hand warmer?

In a 1968 interview with an African American student in Washington, D.C., from the American Folklife Center’s Center for Applied Linguistics collection, we learn that the classic prank of tricking the teacher has been around longer than bell-bottoms. “I think it was April Fools’ Day,” recalls the student. “[He] put tacks on a piece of tape and the teacher sat on them. She threatened to fail everyone in class. But, I suspect, she figured out who the mastermind was. He got booted out of school.”

April Fools’ Day is still a hit today, so here’s my sage advice: stay vigilant, both online and in the real world. Keep an eye out for tacks on your seat, resist the urge to plug any mysterious holes with your thumbs, and if you spot a hat on the street, just keep walking and avoid any rabbit holes!