Guy Fawkes avoided most of the horror of hanging, drawing, and quartering by leaping to his death from the scaffold. I always felt sorry for Fawkes. He was a professional solider leading a band of morons. While on the run after the plot was discovered, some of them tried to dry damp gunpowder in front of an open fire.
I loved Guy Fawkes Night as a kid in England. Here in New Zealand we’re on summer time by November, so it doesn’t get dark until about 10 o’clock. In England it was dark and cold by 6pm, making perfect conditions for bonfires and fireworks. We had proper fireworks, too. The bangers (firecrackers) could blow your hand off.
As kids we hadn’t a clue about the historical and religious significance of the ritual. When I look back now I have to wonder about the morality of encouraging little kids to burn someone in effigy.