GUY FAWKES
in 1593 enlisted as a mercenary fighting for the Spanish army in the
Netherlands. He distinguished himself as “highly skilled in matters
of war” yet was (according to a contemporary Jesuit priest) “a very
devout man, of exemplary life and commendable reticence.”
While some English Catholics – including Fawkes – tried to
encourage an invasion of England by Spain, others hoped that the
new King James I, when he ascended the throne in 1603, would
make their lives easier. They
were quickly disappointed and
so a group of conspirators, led by
the charismatic Robert Catesby,
a known Catholic troublemaker,
began hatching a plot in 1604 to
blow up King and Parliament:
with James and his sons killed
in the blast, the plan was to
kidnap the King’s nine-year-
old daughter, Elizabeth, from
Coombe Abbey in Warwickshire
(today a luxury country-house
hotel) and place her on the
throne as a puppet Queen to be
married off in due course to a
suitable Catholic peer.
In all there would be
13 plotters, including John and
Christopher Wright, Fawkes’
erstwhile contemporaries at
St Peter’s School in York, and
their volatile brother-in-law
Thomas Percy from the great
aristocratic Percy family. Guy
was probably recruited for his
knowledge of gunpowder, his
tunnelling skills and because he
was unknown to government
authorities in London.
In May 1604 Fawkes,
masquerading as Percy’s servant
John Johnson, was installed
in a house rented by Percy
next to the House of Lords.
Unfortunately, digging a tunnel
in which to plant gunpowder
proved difficult but the plotters
managed instead to rent a House
of Lords basement storeroom.
By autumn they had concealed
36 barrels of gunpowder there.
Then disaster struck. On 26
October an anonymous letter sent
to the Catholic Lord Monteagle warned him to stay away from the
opening of Parliament on 5 November because “they shall receive
a terrible blow this parliament and yet they shall not seie [sic] who
hurts them”. The conspirators suspected one of their own number,
Monteagle’s brother-in-law Francis Tresham, had betrayed them
- an accusation he denied. In any case, James and his government
seemed to dismiss the warning, so the plotters pressed ahead.
Thus on 4 November “John Johnson” hid in the House of Lords
storeroom with his lantern – now an exhibit at the Ashmolean © ASHMOLEAN, UNIVERSITY OF OXFORD/HERITAGE IMAGE PARTNERSHIP LTD/ALAMY/ROGERHARRISPHOTOGRAPHY.CO.UUK/DOUGLAS LANDER/PAUL FEARN
Museum in Oxford – watching time slowly pass on a pocket watch
given to him by Percy. His wait cut short by his brutal arrest, he
nevertheless impressed his captors by answering questions “calmly
and firmly”, all the while refusing to name his co-conspirators.
He was thrown into the Tower of London and King James darkly
ordered: “If he will not other wayes confesse, the gentler tortours
are to be the first usid unto him...” [sic]. Fawkes’ shaky “Guido”
(Guy) signature to his subsequent
confession belies the gentleness
of persuasions employed.
Meanwhile Catesby, Percy
and the Wright brothers, fleeing
across the English Midlands,
were killed on 8 November
in a shoot-out. The rest of the
conspirators were rounded
up, tried alongside Fawkes
and executed for high treason
in January 1606 – except for
Tresham, who reportedly died
of natural causes in the Tower of
London on 23 December, further
fuelling suspicions over the true
nature of his role in the plot.
It did seem that the
Government knew more about
the scheme than they had let on
and it has been argued they set
up Fawkes to be dramatically
discovered on the point of
lighting the gunpowder in
order to land a sensational
propaganda coup.
Whatever the truth, the
foiled plot unleashed a wave of
reprisals against Catholics and
stirred anti-Catholic feelings
and fears that continued
right through to the Glorious
Revolution of 1688-’89. To this
day, Yeomen of the Guard (the
royal bodyguards) ceremonially
search the cellars of the Palace
of Westminster before any State
Opening of Parliament.
Following a Thanksgiving
Act of 1606, 5 November
was declared a day of annual
commemoration and, although
the Act was repealed in 1859,
we continue to mark the date
in high-spirited fashion with fireworks and a Guy on top of
bonfires – except at St Peter’s School in York, where a bonfire
burns without their former pupil.
Guy Fawkes, the conspirator who was caught red handed,
certainly became the scapegoat of the notorious Gunpowder Plot.
But he was fully committed to its ends. His justification to King
James and his council, when questioned shortly after being arrested,
still sends shivers down the spine: “A desperate disease requires a
dangerous remedy.” nWas Guy Fawkes a traitor
or a fall guy? Who tipped offKing James’ men about the plot?
Guy Fawkes’s
lantern