The Brit Factor: Guy Fawkes’ Magic
Remember, remember the Fifth of November,
The Gunpowder Treason and Plot,
I know of no reason
Why the Gunpowder Treason
Should ever be forgot.
Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, t’was his intent
To blow up the King and Parli’ment.
Three-score barrels of powder below
To prove old England’s overthrow;
By God’s providence he was catch’d (or by God’s mercy*)
With a dark lantern and burning match.
Holloa boys, holloa boys, let the bells ring. (Holla*)
Holloa boys, holloa boys, God save the King!
And what should we do with him? Burn him!
That was the night in 1605, when Parliament, King James I and most of the British ruling class were almost blown up. Guy Fawkes and his fellow guilty conspirators were burnt instead, which the British celebrate to this day by lighting bonfires.
Yet today Guy Fawkes is even more popular than James I. Thanks to him, we all get to celebrate….. Guy Fawkes night! It’s one of the most anticipated events in the calendar. His acts have inspired the country to produce absolutely tremendous firework shows, fires, burning effigies, great food, great beer and ultimately a magical night.
There were oohs and aahs at Wimbledon Park, as the firework show lit up the smiles on the faces all around me. We had gathered on a cold night, enduring a slight drizzle of rain and a 20-minute delay, after having paid £7 to get in.
But it was all worth it when the first fireworks went flying up. The show was synchronised with music, a variey of rock, RnB, jazz and – quite bizarrely – the NASA recordings of astronauts; Neil Armstrong’s communications from the moon. Yet somehow it all worked. I forgot my feet were wet and freezing. For 30 minutes, we all forgot our worries and were simply happy.
Guy Fawkes night is celebrated in differently ways all around the UK and other parts of the commonwealth. If you fancy carrying a burning barrel of tar through the streets, go to Ottery St Mary in Devon. Lewes in Sussex closes the town centre and then holds a torchlight procession in costume through the streets, after which they prefer burning an effigy of Pope Paul V.
In the town of Edenbridge they choose a living person to burn in effigy each year. This year the town elected glamour model Jordan as their victim for the flames.
Parliament did survive that night on the fifth of November, but a few years later the British civil war killed most of those aristocrats, including James I’s own son, Charles I. Guy Fawkes must be having the last laugh.
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