Remembering Guy Fawkes - A Son of York

This is St Michael-le-Belfrey Church, in the centre of York, where Guy Fawkes was baptised. On the left of this scene stands York Minster (which you can't see). On the right, (which you can see,) is the house where Guy Fawkes was born, now the Guy Fawkes Inn. I stood and watched for a while the other morning, thinking how in 1570, Guy's parents didn't have far to take their three day old baby for his Christening service on April 16th.

I thought I'd conclude my Guy Fawkes mini-series with a thought provoking poem by one of our own daily photo bloggers (Hyde) Gerald England, written when he was in Glasgow in 1966.

RECOLLECTIONS: NOVEMBER 5th 1966

It was just the other day.
Bonfire night the fifth of November.
I went down myself
to where the suburb children
had built their bonfire
and as I watched the effigy
slowly being burnt,
I thought to myself I ought not to be here -
it is a Yorkshireman whom they burn.

My thoughts floated back
to the little close in Petergate
where in 1570
in the Church of St. Michael-le-Belfry
behind the great Minster of York,
Guy Fawkes was baptised.
And as a rocket shot out of a one-pint milk-bottle,
shooting high over tenement roofs,
I thought I ought not to be here -
it is a Yorkshireman whom they burn.

My thoughts escaped
to the Old Hall at Scotton
where Guy's childhood was spent.
There, in those rooms, did he plot
with the Brothers Wright?
And I thought of their home,
Ploughland, on the Spurn Road
where Holderness cocks a snoot at the sea.
Just then they lit some Roman candles
and the explosion of a banger
woke me and arrested my thoughts.
Then I remembered, I ought not to be here -
it is a Yorkshireman whom they burn.

My thoughts escaped once more;
down South to Kettering and Newton Hall
where met the unlucky thirteen,
six Yorkshiremen and seven others,
then plan to annihilate King and Parliament for ever,
with thirty-two hundredweight of powder.
And as the bonfire cast shadows on the ground
I remembered I ought not to be here -
it is a Yorkshireman whom they burn.

Oh how I pictured,
as the body on the firebegan to disintegrate in the flames,
the sufferings felt by Guy
as he neither lay nor sat nor stood
in the Cell of Little Ease until,
on the 31st day of January
in the year sixteen hundred and six,
he was executed,
hung, drawn and quartered.
I knew as I watched the dying embers of the fire,
I ought not to be here -
it is a Yorkshireman whom they burn.

GERALD ENGLAND

Harvest Festival

Little J's school had their harvest festival today in St Andrew's Church, Bishopthorpe. Next year I shall know to camp outside the night before to get a place near the front. A good thing about where I sat though, was that it was right behind Kay, one of the only 4 people in York that I know so far, making me feel a little less like Ruby-no-mates. She's the mum of one of Little J's new friends, and we had exchanged a word or two in the playground.

Then during the service, the vicar got up to say his bit. I admit, I was only sort of half listening to him but I suddenly became aware of him saying " ... and then you just say to yourself, 'Oh God! I can't be doing with this!' " I noticed Kay in front of me leaning across to the lady next to her, and whispering: "Did he just say Oh God?" So I leaned forward between them and said, "He did! He said Oh God!" And we all sat looking at one another in a nice, companiable, astonishment sharing session.

Afterwards, Kay invited me back to her house for coffee, and showed me round the village of Bishopthorpe. She's going to introduce me to another one of her friends next week. So it seems I will soon be knowing five people in York :-)

Memory of Place

This peaceful haven is in St Mary's, a 13thC church in the centre of York, just by the Coppergate shopping centre. Since 2004, the building has been an arts centre, where an artist is commissioned every year, to create an installation reflecting the surroundings.

The current installation is Memory of Place by Keiko Mukaide , and is "a spiritual space in which to reflect on the memory of loved ones." Visitors are invited to light a votive candle and float it on the pool. The glass rods at the end of the pool represent a spiritual path to a higher place.
This installation is in its second season now, brought back by popular demand, and ends on November 2nd.

Political graffiti on glass

Walking down Micklegate with my cousin at the weekend, a street most noted for being infamous pub crawl territory, (the "Micklegate Run") she noticed that the old church along there was open as part of the national Heritage Open Days. We went in, and discovered that this rather beautiful building, the Church of St Martin cum Gregory, has been shut up since the 1960s - hence a quite musty smell as we entered!

The church has impressive stained glass windows, and windows with graffiti on, dating from the 14th to 18th centuries. The Church is going to become "The Stained Glass Centre," a national resource for the discovery and interpretation of stained glass, comprising a gallery, workshop and meeting spaces.

Photo: Political graffiti on the window of the church, from the 1700s, which refers to the battle of Collodon.