Nov 20th, 2005
Guy Fawkes Day
I was happily minding my own business on a Thursday evening when all of a sudden I heard what sounded like gunshots, coming from the park near my house. My eyes widened as I turned towards my companion and asked, “Was that a gun shot?”
“Nah,” he responded. “I think a car must have back-fired.”
We continued back to our hall and I didn’t think about the situation again until later that night, when I was awoken at 12 AM by what sounded like more gun shots.
Now, if I lived in Southeast DC, this might not seem quite as bizarre; but the fact that I live in England, where it is illegal to possess a handgun, made me wonder what the hell was going on.
The next day at breakfast, I was told by a Brit that they were fireworks in celebration of the British holiday, Guy Fawkes’ Day. After a bit more prodding, I found out that Guy Fawkes’ Day is dedicated to a failed plot to burn down Parliament.
Now, there are a few things I don’t quite understand about this holiday. First off, doesn’t it seem a bit strange that England has a national holiday dedicated to an averted disaster? I mean, shouldn’t you dedicate holidays to something that you actually do – I don’t know, like say, win your independence?
Then again, I guess England was the country that every other country was winning their independence from so it puts them in a bit of an awkward situation.
Intrigued by what I felt to be an asinine holiday, I did a bit of and learned that the plot involved blowing up the House of Lords by detonating 2.5 tons of gunpowder, hidden in the cellar.
Here is the grabber: In order to gain access to the House of Lords, Fawkes and his accomplices laid out an ingenious and masterful plan:
They rented a room under Parliament and put 2.5 tons of gunpowder in it.
Let me repeat that.
They rented a room under Parliament and put 2.5 tons of gunpowder in it.
There was no digging tunnels underneath the House; no elaborate scheme to blackmail a member of parliament in exchange for access. They didn’t even pay off a janitor to let them in late at night.
They rented the room! Only in England would conspirators have the decency to rent a room before they load it up with gun powder.
Guy Fawkes: I say my good man, how can we get Catholicism back in good stead in this fine country?
Accomplice: Well, there’s sure to be loads of Protestants at Parliament, aren’t there? Maybe we could just blow it up?
Guy Fawkes: Brilliant! Now that’s an idea if I’ve ever heard one. So, chap, how do we go about blowing them up?
Accomplice: Well, we just put a load of gun powder under Parliament and then light it on fire!
Guy Fawkes: Splendid, I’ll call and see if they have any rooms available for rent. I do think Lord Hawkings may be able to get us a good rate on an office suite with a side tea-room. Fancy a pint?
At any rate, one of the co-conspirators was concerned about the lives of several Catholics at the State Opening of Parliament, and leaked details of the conspiracy to the local authorities.
Guy Fawkes was promptly arrested, tortured, and finally drawn and quartered as was the fashion back then.
Now, on November 5 of each year, young and old British citizens celebrate by shooting fireworks and creating bonfires, upon which effigies of Guy Fawkes are burned.
I want to finish with a snappy line, but I can’t think of one because I’m so confused about this holiday.
