Bonfire Night

Every November 5th, all across the UK, families gather around bonfires and watch fireworks crackle brightly against the night sky. Children wave sparklers, tracing lines of dancing light through the darkness. When I was a child, neighborhood kids would stitch together old trousers and shirts, stuff them with straw or some other cheap and suitable material, and attach a football, a melon, or a pumpkin to the top. They would then cart their creations from door to door in wheelbarrows begging “a penny for the guy”–monetary (or candy) rewards for their labor. Halloween was not a big deal for us back then, and I rarely saw kids going Trick or Treating. “Penny for the guy” was the closest we came. On the night of November 5th, this “guy” would be removed from his wheelbarrow and mounted atop a bonfire. We would gather and watch as the flames licked around his feet, consuming him slowly. “There goes his leg!” “Now his arms!” “His head!”

The British are seen as a bit wacky at the best of times this side of the Atlantic. But what kind of strange insanity is this? The thought of bonfires and fireworks on a cold November night may be appealing. But burning straw men? I’m not sure whether this is still done, but the practice of burning a guy lies at the heart of the origins of Bonfire Night. To explain, we need to jump into the TARDIS (I will make Doctor Who fans of you all!) and set a destination for London, November 4th, 1605…

The past 80 years had been some of the most tumultuous for the church in England. First, Henry VIII decided since the Pope wouldn’t let him divorce his wife, he would sever relations with Rome and set himself up as head of the church in England. Then, by his own authority, he could divorce and re-marry as he pleased. Henry’s secession from Rome came at a time when much stronger, and more theologically-based acts of rebellion against Rome were spreading across Europe–particularly Germany, Switzerland, France, and the Netherlands. This was the time of the Reformation, where states were deciding to break with Catholicism and subscribe to one of the new forms of emerging Protestantism. But Henry didn’t really take much issue with Catholic doctrine–he just didn’t want the Pope telling him how to run his church.

When Henry died, his son Edward VI came to the throne. He wasn’t even a teen yet, and he died before he reached twenty. But prior to his death, he had tried to set a course for a more thorough reform of the church along the lines of Europe. His death put an end to that, much to the relief of his sister Mary, a staunch Roman Catholic. She made it her mission to reverse the policies of her father and brother, to return England to Rome, and punish the Protestants. History remembers her as “Bloody Mary” for a reason–not just because a drink was named for her. Hundreds of Protestants were burned at the stake or were beheaded at her orders.

Mary died childless, and the crown passed to her younger sister Elizabeth. Red-headed like her father, Elizabeth I also shared her father’s desire for an independent church. She returned England to Protestantism, and reinstated laws prohibiting Roman Catholics from ruling, banning the Roman Catholic Mass, and imposing fines on Catholics for being absent from Anglican services (the Puritans and other non-Anglican Protestants also suffered for attending their own forms of church).

Elizabeth also died childless in 1603, so the crown passed to her closest relative, the Scottish king James VI, who became James I of England. Since his mother was the Catholic icon, Mary Queen of Scots, one might think hope kindled for the British Catholics. Indeed, there was talk that James had attempted to make peace with the Pope, and that he planned to abolish the tax on non-Anglicans, among other pro-Catholic measures. But this was not the case. While James had every intention of exercising toleration toward Catholics, his idea of tolerance was: I’ll put up with you if you side with me over the Pope and don’t try to convert anyone to Catholicism. He did suspend the taxation on non-Catholics, but reconsidered when large groups of Catholics took the toleration seriously and gathered for services, including the Mass. James had Roman Catholic priests banished, and the taxation reinstated.

With tensions between the King, Parliament, and the Roman Catholics in England such as they were, some kind of violent backlash was inevitable. English Catholic Robert Catesby had the idea that if the entire ruling body of England could be destroyed in one fell swoop, the English Catholics could seize that moment of anarchy to stage a revolt. And he knew just how to make it happen. He gathered a band of conspirators, dedicated to the cause of English Catholicism, and the destruction of the British monarch and Parliament. Guy Fawkes, one of the chief conspirators, showed them how to safely tunnel underground from their rented headquarters through to the foundation wall of the Houses of Parliament. The intention was to load up enough gunpowder there to bring the building down on November 5th, just as the King opened Parliament.

And they might have got away with it, if it weren’t for the fact that the conspirators decided they needed to warn some outsiders of their plan. They told a couple of Jesuits, who would be able to rally the English Catholics the moment the building went down. But they also needed to be sure there was a store of arms and horses ready, and for that they called on the help of some men of means to supply these needs. All of these men seemed sympathetic enough to keep the secret and help–all but one. A man named Tresham couldn’t stomach the thought of the destruction and loss of life that would result from this plot. He sought the counsel of his brother-in-law, the Roman Catholic Lord Monteagle, who echoed the concern and passed on a letter to the Government warning them of the danger they faced.

No action was taken against the conspirators until the last minute. Guy Fawkes was left to guard the lumber room where he was to set off the gunpowder while the others fled to the country, gathering Catholics to join the insurrection. At eleven o’clock on the night of November 4th, Fawkes was approached by a couple of strange men who knocked him to the ground and dragged him struggling from the lumber room. The other conspirators might have escaped if they had but fled, but instead they tried to gather support for a rebellion anyway. It was futile, and in the end, those that survived being beaten or shot at, were carted back to London where they faced trial and the death penalty for treason.

I’m not sure if Guy Fawkes was actually burned at the stake, or whether he was simply beheaded, but since that time, on November 5th, English children burn Guy Fawkes in effigy, and chant “Remember, remember the fifth of November.” A reminder of the plot that nearly brought down the entire British government and monarchy, and, I suppose, a warning in the form of the burning “guy” to those who might consider doing it again.

And yes, Dumbledore’s phoenix was named after Guy Fawkes. 🙂