On this day in 1605, a man named Guy Fawkes was found in an
undercroft, in a house belonging to John Whynniard, Keeper of the King's Wardrobe,
with twenty barrels of gunpowder. His plan
had been to blow up King James when he came to the House of Lords for the opening
of Parliament and in England we still celebrate the failure of his plot by
lighting bonfires, shooting off fireworks and eating toffee apples. But we’re also celebrating something much
older; a comforting fact for me as I’ve never quite had a simple relationship
with the burning of the ‘Guy’, or the celebration of Protestantism over
Catholicism.
For one, like Fawkes, I come from an old Northern Catholic
family, but more than that, we went to the same school: St Peter’s, in
York. He was and remains our most famous
old boy: an odd example for young boys trying to emulate our famous alumni.
At our school we didn’t burn a Guy on our bonfires, but we did
light bonfires because it is the perfect way of fighting back the gathering gloom
of northern climes. This festival makes
sense because it’s a celebration much older than 1605, and owes its origins to
a festival that marked the end of the Harvest, and the onset of winter.
Bonfires were originally lit five nights
earlier, at Halloween. Halloween was the
beginning of Hallowmas: (from
the Old English halig, which meant ‘Holy’
or ‘saint’; and mas) - a Christian festival
where the souls of the dead were honoured on the festivals of All Hallow’s Eve
(Halloween); All (Hallow’s) Saint’s Day and All Soul’s Day.
But that too
had older, deeper roots.
The Celts called it Samhain: a three night festival which
marked ‘Summer’s End.’ It was a time
when the boundaries between this world and the other were at their
thinnest. Bonfires were lit to hold back
the darkness; people dressed up (mummers); and the Wild Hunt was rumoured to
ride through the skies terrifying children. How little things change….!
Yes, we
still dress up, still feel night spirits in the darkness; still scare ourselves
with ‘ghoulies and ghosties and things
that go bump in the night’. What we’re really celebrating is something
much more integral: the onset of the dark, and our innate reaction against
it. And that I find very
comforting.
Call it
Bonfire Night, Halloween, whatever you like: it’s a festival with many names
that marks the same half-way point between Autumn Equinox and the Winter Solstice. We celebrate it the same way they did,
dressing up, scaring ourselves and lighting fires. It is a tangible link us to our unknown
ancestors who have disappeared into the dark before us.
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