Remember, remember the fifth of November
With gunpowder, treason and plot.
I see no reason that gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot.
Guy Fawkes was his intent
To blow up king and parliament
Three score barrels were laid below
To prove old England’s overthrow.
I bet most of us remember that rhyme, the first part of it anyway, though I doubt that many children today have possibly heard of it, let alone know it and are even less likely know to what it refers. In fact I believe a council in Nottingham has cancelled their planned firework display citing lack of funds.
Back in the day, organised displays, certainly where I lived, were non-existent. Most people had a bonfire in their back gardens with boxes of fireworks brought by whoever had been invited to share in the fun. The fun of course began weeks earlier when as we called it ‘bunny wood’ was foraged. Of course not everything on the bonfire was organic, we always somehow had an old sofa, possibly the full three piece suite from somewhere. It was a great seat for the grannies and grandads to sit on throughout the evening and often had to be burned the following day. Not sure the toxic fumes would have passed today’s health and safety demands.
There was great competition, largely it has to be said, among the boys to collect and build the biggest bonfire and they weren’t beyond ‘relocating’ wood from others, local words used here, in Barnsley we called it bunny wooding, in Bradford in my husband’s day it was ‘progging’ or in his mother’s day ‘chumping’, you probably had your own, that being part of the fun. November 4th was ‘Mischief Night, which I have often thought the Yorkshire emigrants to America managed to incorporate into Trick or Treat which was definitely not a thing back then. Mischief Night was when you could play tricks on well, almost anyone really, and there was no choice it was all trick and no treat. Knocking on doors and running away were the most popular and completely unimaginative tricks. Gates might be swapped around or just removed and left in a pile, and rope tied to the doors of two terraced houses before knocking on them. I believe some children were more creative with the old latch handles but perhaps we shouldn’t go there. And, my husband tells me, this was all done wearing shorts!
There was also the making of the guy. My mum took this very seriously and constructed a frame to give it shape, then it was dressed in my dad’s old clothes, trousers, shirt, jacket, even a tie on occasion! His head was made from a pillow slip with a painted face, the lipstick for the lips gave a little glamour but were often hidden by a beard. My dad smoked a pipe, so did Guy, I think it was my mum’s way of getting rid of some of his pipes. It being Yorkshire, he was often finished off with a flat cap, not entirely historic accuracy was the aim. Sadly, no shoes, the bottom of the trousers were tied with string, rather like the scarecrow in The Wizard of Oz. The stuffing was provided courtesy of the daily newspaper. Our guys were much complimented on but we were never allowed to do the ‘Penny for the Guy’ thing, which my mum dismissed as begging! I think we would have made a killing when I saw some of the poor specimens carted around on those trolleys made from old pram wheels, wood and string. But in those days your mum’s word was law and there was no room for negotiation. I believe some people put fireworks in their guys but we were never that adventurous, that would certainly have had the grannies and grandads off the sofa. Interestingly, the only place Bonfire Night is not celebrated at all is York, where it is thought Guy Fawkes came from. Burning an effigy of one of the city’s most well known sons is perhaps not quite the thing to do, though whether he was a hero or villain is a matter of personal opinion.
In the week leading up to the fifth, one of the joys was choosing the box of fire works, the cheapest I think was the 1/- box going to 2/6, 5/- and beyond. You could even buy loose fireworks! I remember the Cub box by Lion, or Standard Fireworks, Brocks where the factory was blown up by a spark igniting as a young boy rammed gunpowder into a firework. He panicked and threw the firework which exploded along with fifty pounds of gunpowder and lots of saltpetre. Blew the roof off apparently and destroyed the place as well as blowing the windows out of several adjacent buildings. Pain’s were one of the oldest brands and according to some sources it was their gunpowder that was used in the gunpowder plot. As it happens they’re still trading and they’re one of the largest firework display companies in the world.
Once everyone had brought their fireworks they were stored in old biscuit tins for safety, though the boys who lived next door were always able to snaffle a few bangers to terrorise my sister and I with. There were penny bangers which they held for as long as they dared before throwing them. It’s a wonder they had all their fingers to be honest, and there was an incident with a jumping cracker one year and a trouser leg! I must confess I have always preferred the pretty ones, anything that said fountain, silver, golden etc was usually fun. I also like roman candles, catherine wheels were always a bit of a gamble and of course no-one mentioned the rather gruesome history behind them, fun fact, St. Catherine was tortured on a wheel for refusing to renounce her Christian faith, the wheel broke so she was eventually beheaded. Well maybe not so fun! There was always a hold your breath moment with a rocket as well, usually set off from a milk bottle partially buried in the ground. Often a lot of whizz and not much else, but at least in those days the sounds were reasonable, now it sounds as though you’re in a war zone!
I have always considered that the greatest risk to safety were small children waving sparklers around, yet that tradition seems to continue, though at least modern parents insist on their offspring wearing gloves. However, there is still a lot of fun to be had writing your name in sparklers, if it’s not too long!
At our bonfire parties, there was always food, jacket potatoes cooked in the fire, wrapped in foil and placed in the embers, usually nuked on the outside and quite raw in the middle. My mum made great bonfire toffee which is darker and harder than the usual caramel, she also made toffee apples, to be honest I’ve never liked them, in my opinion a nice apple is spoiled as is good toffee, of course my toffee eating days are now gone! There were also homemade meat pies and mushy peas, it was Yorkshire, what did you expect? And of course, Yorkshire parkin, each family recipe fiercely guarded.
November 6th always seemed to be slightly foggy and there was still the smell of cordite in the air and the remains of dead fireworks to be collected and disposed of in the still smouldering remains of the fire. Then of course our minds turned to thoughts of Christmas.
Irene Airton - 7th November 2024