With today being the 5th November I thought I’d wax lyrical about the Gunpowder Plot. This narrative a parody biography about Guy Fawkes’ early adult years, leading up to the event where he gained infamy.
So, if you’re sitting comfortably, I will begin… Well, actually, even if you’re not sitting comfortably a) I told you not to get those hedgehog skin cushions, and b) I gonna start this unreliable historical yarn regardless.
Ordinarily, the hours leading up to Firework night (or should that be Bonfire night, or indeed Guy Fawkes night) prove unremarkable moments for yours truly… This lack of an adrenalin rush not helped by wasting most of the day wondering whether the evening is titled Firework night, Bonfire night, or Guy Fawkes night.
To the layman my angst at the naming convention will seem a misguided way of spending time. Sadly, for my cognitive wellbeing, though, my OCD dictates I utilise the correct moniker for the anniversary of the Gunpowder Plot’s spurning. For the uninitiated, a coup aimed at blowing up the House of Parliament in 1605.
One of the main protagonists arrested for his part in the plot being one Guidance Fawkes.
Footnote – Yes, I know he was called Guy not Guidance, but I thought my extension of his calling card instilled further gravitas to the narrative… Consequently, it’s staying.
Last year, apart from endeavouring to ease my OCD, the rest of the daylight hours were spent mooching about, scratching around, and watching my beard grow in the mirror. The latter I would venture is unlikely to be embraced as a national sport anytime soon… To clarify, the beard also grew on my face, not just on my reflection.
Sadly, the unease borne from my obsessive-compulsive disorder in daylight hours only heightened once dusk had fallen. A seemingly endless stream of boom, boom noises not helping my already shaken nerves. It is the last bloody time I invite Basil Brush to my Bonfire Night party!
Anyhow, I digress…
In 1591, at the age of 23, York-born Guy Fawkes converted to Catholicism. A major life event he followed by converting his garage into a fourth bedroom with en-suite bathroom and splendid views of the River Ouse.
At around this time, with fire in his belly after having to knock down his bedroom conversion due to planning permission breaches, along with censure for inappropriate use of the word flange, Fawkes fled England.
Fleeing his home to fight in the Eighty Years War where he sided with the Spanish Catholics against the Dutch. His nose also put out of joint by an Andorran goat herder who refused him permission to cross his land as a shortcut while he and the Spaniards ventured north.
The longevity of this war meant Fawkes didn’t return home until the early 1600’s. Tired after his exertions and with wig listing to the right, the rebel was irked to find a huge energy bill upon his return. This weighty demand due to neglecting to turn his immersion off prior to leaving for the Iberian Peninsula nine years earlier.
Back in the UK, the rebellious catholic became a key protagonist in the Gunpowder Plot. Acquiring the nickname ‘Knives And Fawkes’ from the local village idiot, his role that fateful evening in 1605 was monitoring gunpowder storage beneath Parliament… That’s Guy Fawkes, not the village idiot. He stayed in York to guard the towns cheese knives.
Sadly for the Yorkshire born rabble-rouser, he was caught red-handed in possession of the stockpiled explosives after a whistle-blower tipped off authorities about the plot. His arrest occurring during the army’s search of the Palace of Westminster.
He was initially arrested for gunpowder handling breaches. Incurred further wrath from authorities for health and safety misdemeanours, including not adhering to high visibility jacket and safety helmet edicts.
Additionally, Fawkes received admonishment for, while waiting for the plot to commence, recklessly reading a book by match light while perched on a gunpowder barrel. His ;itany of crimes leading to being sentenced to be hung, drawn and quartered.
The convict, though, avoiding that method of execution after he could not be drawn due to prevailing parchment and pencil shortages at that time.
In the end Fawkes demise came courtesy of falling from the scaffolding where he was scheduled to be hung, dying instead because of neck fracture.
As he lay moribund, he whispered to the executioner “Tell my missus I bequeath her my high-visibility jacket…. Oh, and mention I forgot to turn the immersion off again so expect another hefty energy bill.”
Since this historic night in the early 17th century, the anniversary has been marked by the burning an effigy of Fawkes on a bonfire, along with dark autumnal skies being illuminated by fireworks…… In his home city of York locals also mark Fawkes’ notoriety by leaving their immersions on between 6pm – 11pm.
Disclaimer – If you are a student due sit an examination relating to the events spawning the UK’s 5th November ‘celebration’ please, please, please do not use this hooey for accurate historical reference.
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