I scrolled though the list of columns I’ve written over the years – goodness me, I had no idea I’d done so many. But I’ve never written a column about the fifth of November, Bonfire Night or Halloween for that matter. Time to right that wrong.
Guy Fawkes Night – or as some call it, Bonfire Night, or even Fireworks Night – is an important event in the British calendar. But it’s not all about having fun, eating too many sweet treats and merrily waving sparklers, for it’s connected to a very serious moment in history.
So says the poem: “Remember remember, the fifth of November, gunpowder, treason and plot…”
I remember learning this at school as a kid, and the story behind it. Basically, we are not celebrating anything, we are commemorating the failure of an attempt to blow up parliament.
Protestant King James VI and I was on the throne, and some Catholics were in uproar after he refused to grant them greater religious rights. So, during the state opening of parliament, on the fifth of November 1605, they decided to blow it up and kill the King.
Thankfully they failed, and a certain Mr Guy Fawkes, one of the main conspirators, was tried, convicted and finally executed. Actually, he wasn’t executed, he jumped from the scaffold just prior to his hanging, and broke his own neck.
Bonfires were lit all over London to celebrate that the King survived, and I’m guessing that our modern-day fireworks are a connection to the barrels of gunpowder that were going to be used in 1605.
As for the effigy we put on top of the bonfire, that’s of course a guy, as in Guy Fawkes himself.
We really do have a fascinating and dark history, don’t we?
I loved Bonfire Night. Past tense, of course, I’ve not been to one in years. There used to be one in Inverurie, organised by the Round Table if I recall correctly. I can picture my grandad’s lorry, dad and Uncle Raymond in the cab driving, me and my cousins on the back of the open lorry in the fresh air. What a thrill, as we drove around and collected stuff for the local bonfire.
But it’s the times spent in Aberdeen I recall with a shudder.
I used to spend many weekends at my grannie and nans in Aberdeen. Around Bonfire Night, us kids used to roam the cul-de-sac going from door to door, asking if anyone had anything to burn. We were given old boxes, wood, anything – we’d burn anything.
I have an image in my head of two of us carrying an old door a neighbour gave us, round the side of the terraced houses and into the communal gardens out back. We were building our own bonfire. And none of the adults supervised or gave two hoots. We even poured petrol all over it to get it going.
It was so dangerous. I was about 10. Health and safety? It didn’t exist then.
I’d imagine that the burning of home-made bonfires in a communal back garden in the centre of Aberdeen is not tolerated and probably even banned now. And to be fair, that’s how it should be. It was great fun, but definitely not safe.
Then there’s fireworks…
Somehow, we managed to buy them as kids, and walked around with sparklers all weekend. We even held small rockets in our hands, lit them and let them fly into the sky. Terrifying really. So many possibilities for horrific injuries. Kids and fireworks, petrol and matches and fires – do not mix!
I presume all bonfires and firework displays are organised now.
On the subject of fireworks, do you like them, find them beautiful, or despise them and think they should be banned? Banned I mean from shops selling them to individuals, and only allowed at organised events, or banned outright?
I don’t mean to be a killjoy, but fireworks are most definitely not your pet cat or dog’s best friend.
And as for hedgehogs, please please please, if you ever do have a bonfire, even a small garden waste fire, always cheek for hedgehogs before lighting it, as these lovely creatures often decide to nest under an already stocked pile.
Hedgehogs need all our help, they really are up against it.
Halloween, or All Hallows’ Eve, or All Saints’ Eve as it used to be known, is celebrated on October 31. It dates back hundreds of years and is all about praying for recently departed souls – or as many think today, to ward off evil spirits.
In the 8th Century, Pope Gregory even designated November 1 as a day to honour all departed saints.
Of course, over time, like Christmas, it has morphed into something much more commercial. And dare I say, American.
I have no idea how Halloween is celebrated in the UK these days. When I was a kid, there was no trick or treat – we went guising. And there was not a pumpkin in sight. We had turnip or neep lanterns.
Dooking for apples, I adored that. Then there used to be things, sticky buns or something hanging from string down from the ceiling. Can’t for the life of me remember what they were. And we played games – do kids still do all this at Halloween? No idea.
I remember my dad would sit with me in the kitchen and we’d butcher a turnip to make a neep lantern. Hard work from what I remember. Dad sliced off the top and then we both took turns to gouge out the middle.
Tough things raw neeps; dad used a knife, and I a spoon. A set of eyes were then cut and a mouth. Finally, a candle was placed inside on the base of the turnip and dad lit it.
I will never forget the next bit – he turned off the lights and the turnip came to life as the light from the candle glowed through its eyes and mouth.
To me, a kid of an era well before the internet and smartphones, it was the most spectacular sight of my entire life. I genuinely was in awe of my neep lantern.
Dad then made a string handle for it so I could carry my lantern, and once I was dressed up as whatever, a ghost with an old sheet over me, out we went, into the evening. It may have been only around 6pm, but it was pitch black and it really did feel like I was in a scary movie all of my own.
We didn’t go to strangers’ houses, only to neighbours we knew, and to grannie and grandad’s house.
And unlike today, I didn’t say, trick or treat, I’d never heard of that, I said “Penny for the guy”, and that’s the connection to the fifth of November.
But before the person at the door handed over some coins or small sweets, I had to do a turn. I can’t remember what exactly, but I think I read a poem. And off we trotted to the next house.
It was wonderful, I loved Halloween. It felt magical. But the mess back home in the kitchen? Not my concern. That was left for mum. And the stink from old bits of turnip that had been scorched by the candle? I swear I can still smell that smell.
Like many of our traditions, it’s all gone commercial. Apparently, a quarter of all candy sold in the US is bought for Halloween. And according to the site history.com, in 2021 Americans spent 500 million dollars on Halloween costumes for their pets. Sounds a bit like Christmas to me…
Do kids still dook for apples? I don’t know. I doubt anyone carries a neep lantern and says “penny for the guy” anymore.
Do you think Halloween is all a bit of harmless fun? Millions do. Yet some are against it, for religious reasons.
Anyway, what about those who say it’s wrong to encourage children to go knocking on strangers’ doors asking for sweets?
Hmm, makes you think…
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