5/11: Treason The Gunpowder Plot was foiled not on the fifth of November but on the fourth, 400 years ago today. There were no black and yellow security barriers outside the Houses of Parliament in those days, no armed guards posted at every entrance and no compulsory bag searches before entry. All the conspirators had to do was to hire a cellar beneath the House of Lords, fill it with 1½ tons of gunpowder and wait. Unluckily (for them) the State Opening of Parliament was delayed by a month because of plague, during which time news of the 'secret' plot leaked out. Guy Fawkes and his barrels of explosive were therefore discovered just in time, significantly extending the life expectancy of Britain's ruling aristocracy in the process.
It's not widely known just how easy it is to gain entrance to the Palace of Westminster. You can write to your MP and ask to be taken round (although, given who my MP is, I think I'll wait a few years). You can queue up to see a debate in the Commons or the Lords (the latter has far shorter queues than the former). You can ask the fierce-looking policemen outside St Stephen's Entrance for permission to take a look round Westminster Hall (open daily at present for a Gunpowder 1605 exhibition). Or you can do what I did and take a tour of the main building during the summer recess (at only £7 per head, this must be one of London's best bargains). Admittedly the security checks are really quite strict (the stern lady in the black portakabin poked me with her electronic wand and gave me a very thorough patdown before issuing me with my official visitor's sticker). But once you're through, the chance to experience democracy first hand is really rather special.
The officialtour of the Houses of Parliament begins here in the Sovereign's Entrance, beneath the Victoria Tower. I was lucky and ended up in a tiny group of seven, just me and some backpacking tourists from Australia and Texas, showed round by Robina the Blue Badge Guide. She asked us to put away our cameras and then led us into the building, following the route the Queen takes when she comes to open Parliament. Even at nearly 80 Liz can still climb the initial grand staircase unaided, we were told, so there was no sign of a Stannah stairlift installed as yet. As we entered the Robing Room it was immediately obvious, if it hadn't been from outside, that this is not the original Palace of Westminster. A firein 1834 succeeded where Guy Fawkes had not, destroying the medieval building and forcing an almost complete rebuild. What we were seeing was the uber-Gothic interior of a Victorian architect's wet dream - all fancy ornate woodwork and excessive over-decoration. The gold leaf plastered around the room, and the Chair of State in particular, looked as if it might well have cost the entire 19th century GDP of an exploited Empire colony.
Next to the Royal Gallery, an extremely long, high room lined with portraits and grand paintings. The two most prominent of these are huge canvases depicting, in great detail, the defeat of the French at Trafalgar and Waterloo. Comfy chairs are scattered along the full length of the room, as befits the country's most exclusive gentleman's club. It's just a short procession from here through the Prince's Chamber ante-room to the (oh my God I'm actually standing in the)House of Lords. This historic chamber is a lot more compact in real life than it looks on the television but also a lot grander, so long as you look at the big gold throne and the panelled walls and not the squashed red leather benches or the obtrusive dangling microphones. We got to sit on the steps at the far end, while Robina pondered out loud the various possible futures of this increasingly less important second chamber.
Continuing eastward, the subtle colour change of furniture from red to green signalled our passage from the Lords to the Commons. We'd arrived in the Central Lobby, the buzzing hub of the Palace and the classical backdrop you usually see behind TV political correspondents. Except it was a Saturday morning so the place was almost silent, apart from a clerk at the main desk and some yellow-helmeted workmen wheeling long low trollies, frustratedly trying to find a step-free exit from the building. The Members' Lobby nextdoor housed bronze busts of 20th century Prime Ministers, including recently departed Heath and Callaghan. My local MP merited only an empty pigeonhole.
We ventured onward towards the Commons chamber itself, where Black Rod fears to tread. The surrounding 'Aye' and 'No' lobbies were rebuilt after World War 2 following major bomb damage and therefore look disappointingly ordinary, more like a town hall library than the national seat of power. Robina sat us down in the Noes for a quick historical update, then led us into the (oh my God I'm actually standing in the)House of Commons. Our group got to line up along the Government backbenches, more usually occupied by Tony's semi-loyal hecklers, while the tour ahead of us took the place of Her Majesty's Opposition. Here we stood as unelected members of the public, right at the very heart of British democracy, facing one another across the Despatch Boxes. Alas we were not permitted to act like real MPs and shout 'hear hear' or fall asleep on the green-backed leather benches. Major building work was underway, with a huge new security screen being erected to prevent any more angry fathers hurling condoms full of purple flour (or worse) at the PM, so unfortunately much of the chamber was boarded off. Still, I can at least say I saw half of the most important room in the country.
We retraced our steps and entered St Stephen's Chapel, site of the original (pre-fire) Parliament building. This is now used as the main entrance hall, a bit of a comedown from setting the nation's laws, but four brass studs still mark the corners of the spot where the Speaker's Chair once stood. And finally to the oldest part of the palace, Westminster Hall, where Robina took her leave. This is a mighty imposing structure. The walls are more than nine centuries old, the hammerbeam roof dates back to King Richard I, and the bland cafe alongside is so old that David Blunkett was Home Secretary at the time it was opened. The hall itself has seen great pomp and drama, including several coronation banquets, the trial of King Charles I and the Queen Mum's lying in state. And in January of 1606 the trial of Guy Fawkes was held here, back in the building he'd attempted, but failed, to destroy. Parliament exacted its retribution, and Fawkes was hung, drawn and quartered (along with three other conspirators) outside in Old Palace Yard. Death had come to Westminster, just not quite in the way the plotters had planned.
5/11: Treason
The official tour of the Houses of Parliament begins here in the Sovereign's Entrance, beneath the Victoria Tower. I was lucky and ended up in a tiny group of seven, just me and some backpacking tourists from Australia and Texas, showed round by Robina the Blue Badge Guide. She asked us to put away our cameras and then led us into the building, following the route the Queen takes when she comes to open Parliament. Even at nearly 80 Liz can still climb the initial grand staircase unaided, we were told, so there was no sign of a Stannah stairlift installed as yet. As we entered the Robing Room it was immediately obvious, if it hadn't been from outside, that this is not the original Palace of Westminster. A fire in 1834 succeeded where Guy Fawkes had not, destroying the medieval building and forcing an almost complete rebuild. What we were seeing was the uber-Gothic interior of a Victorian architect's wet dream - all fancy ornate woodwork and excessive over-decoration. The gold leaf plastered around the room, and the Chair of State in particular, looked as if it might well have cost the entire 19th century GDP of an exploited Empire colony.
We retraced our steps and entered St Stephen's Chapel, site of the original (pre-fire) Parliament building. This is now used as the main entrance hall, a bit of a comedown from setting the nation's laws, but four brass studs still mark the corners of the spot where the Speaker's Chair once stood. And finally to the oldest part of the palace, Westminster Hall, where Robina took her leave. This is a mighty imposing structure. The walls are more than nine centuries old, the hammerbeam roof dates back to King Richard I, and the bland cafe alongside is so old that David Blunkett was Home Secretary at the time it was opened. The hall itself has seen great pomp and drama, including several coronation banquets, the trial of King Charles I and the Queen Mum's lying in state. And in January of 1606 the trial of Guy Fawkes was held here, back in the building he'd attempted, but failed, to destroy. Parliament exacted its retribution, and Fawkes was hung, drawn and quartered (along with three other conspirators) outside in Old Palace Yard. Death had come to Westminster, just not quite in the way the plotters had planned.
"Last of all came the great Devil of all, Guy Fawkes, who should have put fire to the powder. His body being weak with the torture and sickness he was scarce able to go up the ladder, yet, with much ado, by the help of the hangman, went high enough to break his neck by the fall. He made no speech, but with his crosses and idle ceremonies made his end upon the gallows and the block, to the great joy of all beholders that the land was ended of so wicked a villainy." (The Weekeley News, 31 January 1606)• The Houses of Parliament (how and when to visit)
5/11: Treason
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We retraced our steps and entered 