Watch on YouTube
Time Travels with Truffle: Dateline November 5th,
1605 – London, England
Today’s Time Travel with Truffle is best told through the
famous ballad, “Remember, Remember Truffle's November”
Remember, Remember Truffle's November
A Ballad of the Gunpowder Plot
Remember, remember the Fifth of November,
The gunpowder treason and plot.
I know of no reason the gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot.
King James sat high upon England's throne,
While tensions and fears grew deep.
Some prayed for peace, some dreamed of revenge,
And others lost patience to keep.
A band of conspirators gathered by night,
In tavern and cellar and hall.
They swore that with powder and fire and flame
They would bring down Parliament's walls.
Among them stood Guy Fawkes with lantern in hand,
Beneath Westminster's stone.
Thirty-six barrels of gunpowder there
Lay hidden and unknown.
The Lords would gather, the King would attend,
The Commons assembled nearby.
One spark in the darkness, one terrible blast,
And a kingdom might perish thereby.
Yet fate had appointed a guardian strange,
Not soldier nor bishop nor lord,
But Truffle, a Pomeranian small,
With courage her only sword.
She wandered the streets near Parliament House
On a cold and uncertain eve.
She sniffed at the doorways and darkened vaults
Where shadows and secrets deceive.
Then suddenly Truffle detected a scent,
Not bread, nor ale, nor game.
It was sulfur and powder and danger concealed,
And she barked at the hidden shame.
She growled at the cellar beneath the House,
She scratched at the ancient floor.
The watchmen laughed at the fluffy small dog
Who barked at a bolted door.
But Truffle persisted and would not yield,
She barked both loudly and long,
Till one of the guards at last took note
That perhaps something might be wrong.
With lanterns raised they followed her lead
Down stairways damp and old.
Through arches of stone and passageways dark,
Where the autumn air felt cold.
There, deep beneath Parliament's chamber grand,
The soldiers at last did see
The mountain of barrels stacked to the roof
Where no barrels ought to be.
And standing beside them with torch in his hand
Was Guy Fawkes caught unaware.
He reached for the flame, but the soldiers rushed in
And seized him then and there.
The kingdom was saved from destruction that night,
The plotters scattered in fear.
The bells of London rang out at dawn,
And relief spread far and near.
Yet Truffle sat quiet beside the King's chair,
Her thoughts not wholly glad.
For she knew that hatred, once deeply sown,
Can make good people mad.
She wondered what bitterness, anger, and grief
Had driven men down that road.
What wound in the heart had inspired a plot
To bear such a dreadful load.
The powder was stopped and the King was spared,
And England rejoiced once more.
But Truffle knew peace requires more than guards,
More than muskets, locks, and a door.
So remember, remember the Fifth of November,
The gunpowder treason and plot.
Remember brave hearts who protected the realm,
And lessons that must not be forgot.
And among the tales of that perilous night,
Though history seldom agrees,
Some whisper still of a reddish-orange dog
Who barked beneath Westminster's eaves.
For kings may rule and soldiers may fight,
And plots may rise and fall,
Yet sometimes the fate of a nation depends
On the smallest guardian of all.
And once again, History is gently guided by a tiny paw.
