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Guy Fawkes Night...
Also known as the night of the last man to enter Parliament with honest intentions. For those who don't know, Guy Fawkes was a part of a plot to blow up the Houses of Parliament in the early 17th. Century (1603, I think). He was found in one of the cellars of the Houses of Parliament with a large quantity of gunpowder - hence the Gunpowder Plot. These days, we celebrate with bonfires burning an effigy of Guy Fawkes, and fireworks.
A few years ago, I used to be part of a re-enactment group that used to go up to Fort Nelson, one of the Napoleonic forts up on Portsdown Hill, and lurk in the catacombs as part of a living history presentation on the Gunpowder Plot. Part of the presentation involved the formal telling of the story of the plot, with various people, including myself, as plotters. At one point the Narrator would tell of the torture of the plotters, during which I was assigned "Blood Curdling Scream" duty. Which I enjoyed, mainly as I would attempt the most blood curdling screams, gurgles and other tortured cries, in a room next to the auditorium. And I would invariably cut off the last cry abruptly, just to add that certain "something". We would then listen with amusement to the wails of distressed children in the auditorium.
Heaven only knows, over the years, how many wet beds I was responsible in the Portsmouth area...
A few years ago, I used to be part of a re-enactment group that used to go up to Fort Nelson, one of the Napoleonic forts up on Portsdown Hill, and lurk in the catacombs as part of a living history presentation on the Gunpowder Plot. Part of the presentation involved the formal telling of the story of the plot, with various people, including myself, as plotters. At one point the Narrator would tell of the torture of the plotters, during which I was assigned "Blood Curdling Scream" duty. Which I enjoyed, mainly as I would attempt the most blood curdling screams, gurgles and other tortured cries, in a room next to the auditorium. And I would invariably cut off the last cry abruptly, just to add that certain "something". We would then listen with amusement to the wails of distressed children in the auditorium.
Heaven only knows, over the years, how many wet beds I was responsible in the Portsmouth area...