# Terrible Tudors, Gorgeous Georgians, Slimy Stuarts,
# Vile Victorians
# Woeful wars, ferocious fights Dingy castles, daring knights
# Horrors that defy description Cut-throat Celts, Awful Egyptians
# Vicious Vikings, cruel crimes Punishments from ancient times
# Romans, rotten, rank and ruthless Cavemen, savage, fearsome, toothless
# Groovy Greeks, brainy sages Miserable Middle Ages
# Gory stories, we do that And your host, a talking rat
# The past is no longer a mystery Welcome to Horrible Histories. #
Henry VIII really was a terrible Tudor.
If he didn't like you, he'd have your head chopped off.
He even beheaded two of his wives.
In this week's issue of Oh, Yea! magazine,
Henry VIII's latest wedding.
We ask, will Katherine Parr go the distance,
or are we heading for a beheading?
Plus, Henry VIII tells of his heartbreak
at the Anne of Cleeves divorce.
I chopped her because she was a minger.
And Anne Boleyn's manky sixth finger revealed.
Was is an abnormal extra finger or was it just a wart?
It's a wart.
All the goss, all the pics on all the latest beheadings
only in this week's Oh, Yea!
Huh, Henry just loved chopping off heads. Didn't do it himself, mind.
He had trained executioners to do the dirty work. Huh!
I wonder how you get chosen for that job.
It's a Monday morning in Tudor England, and a batch of new recruits
are about to see who's up to the challenge of landing their dream job.
Chopping people's heads off.
I'd be living the dream, really.
Well, more of a nightmare, I suppose.
My mum reckons I'd be really good at this job,
got all the right qualities.
And what does your Dad think? I dunno. I chopped his head off.
Some people say this isn't a job for a woman, but to be honest,
you're wearing a mask, so who's gonna know?
It's not just about chopping people's heads off.
There's all sorts of skills required in the job.
There's hanging people, dropping people in boiling oil,
chopping the limbs off, and then, of course,
you've got the slitting people open, watching the stomachs fall out.
SHE VOMITS Right, you're out!
Oh, please, sir, I've got so much more to give.
I didn't even mention pulling people's lungs out.
SHE VOMITS Oi, watch me shoes!
Vamoose!
The remaining recruits are set to their first task,
which is to lift the axe.
So, what makes you think you can do this job, sonny?
I like the uniform,
and I just wanna be independent, you know,
stand on my own two feet.
BLADE CRUNCHES
One foot.
Next!
Right, listen very carefully.
The type of noose used in a public execution
varies according to the time of day the execution is to be carried out.
This is the seven o'clock noose.
This is the nine o'clock noose.
And this is the Noose at Ten.
And this is the person that wrote that joke.
Now, what makes you think you should be given the job?
Well, I've got the axe and you haven't.
Good point. Welcome to the Tower.
Raaaaargh!
It's...false.
Spartans only wanted babies who would grow into strong warriors,
but even a strong warrior can make a mistake.
# Stupid deaths, stupid deaths They're funny cos they're true
# Stupid deaths, stupid deaths Hope next time it's not you! #
Oooh!
Next!
Name? Pausanius.
"Pausanius"!
Year of death? 470 BC.
Profession? Spartan general.
Greek troublemaker.
Method of death? Well, I sort of fell out with my fellow Spartans,
so decided to betray them to the enemy,
but my letter to the other side was intercepted by the Spartans,
who sent troops to kill me as a traitor.
But I fled to the Temple of Athena,
saying, "You can't lay a finger on me here, I'm on sacred ground."
Mmm. And did the killers dare lay a finger on you? No, they did not.
They just bricked up the door and left me to starve to death.
HE LAUGHS UPROARIOUSLY A classic!
You're dead funny!
Bricked up!
I love my job, sometimes I do. I do.
Next!
# Stupid deaths, stupid deaths Hope next time it's not you! #
And there were plenty of stupid deaths
in the ancient Greek city of Athens
when a bloke called Draco was in charge.
He was super, super strict.
The Court of Historical Law is now in session.
Today we are using laws from the ancient Greek city of Athens.
Prosecuting, all the way from the year 621 BC,
the great, the all-powerful...Draco.
Ruler of the Athenian people, philosopher and law maker.
And the accused, Seth.
So then, Seth, if that is indeed your real name,
I put it to you that on the night of the 12th day
in the orchard of Darius Panagopoulos,
you did wantonly, brazenly and with malice of forethought steal an apple.
Stealing an apple?
Is that what this is about? Did you or didn't you?
Yeah, I nicked an apple.
So who do I owe an apple to?
CONTEMPTUOUS LAUGHTER
I'm afraid that under my Draconian law the theft of an apple
is punishable by... Let's see, shall we?
Death. What?! Guards, take him away and make him dead.
Wait, wait. No, I remember now. I didn't steal an apple.
I distinctly remember standing in the orchard
and making a point of not stealing any apple.
But you were in the orchard, which sounds like trespassing to me,
which under Draconian law is punishable by...
..death!
Guards, take him away and make him dead.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, hang on, hang on.
No, it's all becoming clear now.
I was nowhere, doing nothing.
On the night in question I just sat around nowhere in particular,
doing nothing whatsoever.
In which case, we shall drop all charges of theft and trespassing
and replace them instead with a charge of idleness,
which under Draconian law is punishable by...
..tickling!
That's not right.
Death!
Guards, take him away and make him dead, unless you can
think of something worse than death, in which case, do that too.
This is an outrage!
Well, not a bad result, I'd say.
I mean, you have to take the hard line with these law breakers.
SCREAMS OF AGONY
Actually, I think you'll find that was my apple.
Now, time for our fairytale series,
where all the stories are retold in different historical settings.
Today...
The beautiful princess had been asleep for 100 years
when a handsome prince found her.
He fell in love with her,
and with a kiss she finally awoke from her long sleep.
And they would have got married and lived happily ever after,
but the Ancient Greek ruler Draco had introduced some new laws,
and being lazy was now a serious crime,
and nothing is lazier than sleeping for 100 years.
So the princess was taken away and executed.
Oh, come on!
The end.
Hello, and welcome to the News at When. When?
Well, the modern day, I suppose.
Today we're looking at how come Britain has connections
with so many countries around the world.
Here to explain more is Bob Hale, with the British Empire Report. Bob.
Thank you, Sam. Well, there it is,
the world, and right there in the middle of it is England.
Tiny little country with a big idea -
to take over everywhere else and become really, really powerful.
So in 1583, a Tudor chap called Humphrey Gilbert
lands over here in a new-found land called Newfoundland.
He claims it for England, and so the Empire begins. Ta-da!
Sadly, he doesn't leave anyone to look after it,
then dies on the way home, so all in all
it's not a brilliant trip, but England tries again.
In Stuart times, back across the Atlantic they go,
this time claiming Canada, the Caribbean, and most importantly,
the east coast of America,
which means we finally have a British Empire,
and everything's going awfully, awfully well, but not for long.
The American states declare independence.
Not only do they declare it, they fight for it, and they win.
It's a disaster!
So Britain has to go and try its luck somewhere else.
Fortunately, Captain Cook discovered Australia,
so Britain says, "We'll have that,"
and they would also like a bit of Asia, over here. Yes.
There's a British business in Asia called the East India Company,
trading in things like tea and biscuits. Mmm, yummy!
Everyone loves teas and biscuits.
So much that the company becomes big and powerful
and starts to take over entire countries.
Plus, Britain wins the Napoleonic Wars against the French Empire,
and they nab more countries off them.
Wait a minute. It seems the Indian people don't like
being ruled by a tea company, and who can blame them?
They decide to rebel.
The British Army, however, crushes the rebellion
and Queen Victoria takes over as Indian Empress,
which don't "empress" the Indians. Ha, ha!
Meanwhile, it seems the Dutch won't share South Africa.
Naughty, naughty!
So Britain has a couple of wars down there, the Boer Wars,
and gobbles up a few more countries.
By the time World War I breaks out, a third of all Africans
are ruled by the British.
And what's Britain's prize for winning the war?
A load more countries, of course.
A third of the planet run by one tiny island.
Ah!
But not for long!
First to go are Australia and Canada and Egypt,
they demand to be recognised as equal countries,
so they're out of the Empire. And then World War II happened.
Britain wins, but we're completely broke.
You can't run an empire without money,
especially when people don't want you.
India leaves, and everywhere else isn't far behind.
1948, and Ireland goes. See you, Ireland!
Then Sudan. Bye, Sudan! Then Cyprus and South Africa and Zanzibar
and Malta, Singapore, Fiji, then Hong Kong,
then the screen goes dead and the cat's put out,
the phone's unplugged, lights go off, milk gets cancelled,
the gas is disconnected. and I hand back to Sam.
Back to you, Sam.
Thanks, Bob.
# I love to be a British queen I am Victoria, you see
# Now, where's my British butler With my British cup of tea?
# Tea is not from Britain, ma'am From India it was brought
# Yes, for your cuppa thousands died
# And many wars were fought
# British things, my British things It seems that tea is not
# British things, my British things Can I sweeten it a jot?
# Do tell me sugar's British, though
# No, it's Caribbean, imported For sugar in your cup of tea
# Slavery's been supported I know it's wrong, Your Majesty
# But slaves in Africa
# Were tarred in fields of sugar cane To sweeten up your cha
# British things, our British things
# I thought that there were many British things, oh, British things
# Afraid there's hardly any
# You know your British cotton vest? What's wrong with it? Explain
# The cotton's from America and picked by... Slaves again
# Your Empire's built on fighting wars
# That's how your income's swollen
# Your British things are from abroad And most are, frankly, stolen.
# Whatever next? Go on, pray tell.
# Our British Queen is foreign as well?
# It's true I am of foreign descent
# And your husband Albert?
# A German gent At least I've got a British name
# Victoria's Latin That's a shame!
# British things, British things
# There are none, we declare
# All our favourite British things
# Seem to come from elsewhere! #
More sugar?
A lot of English words come straight from the Viking language,
like this lot.
Really? Shy?
Ooh, I am a bit, actually.
Erm, stop staring at me, I'm going red.
We Vikings really were a surprising bunch.
I mean, how do you think we told stories about our gruesome battles?
We told them with poems.
We really did, cos it's easier to remember a rhyme.
Greetings, my friend, it's great to be back!
And just wait till you see what I've got in my sack.
We pillaged this monastery
down by the coast, and divided the loot up, but I got the most.
Then drowned some monks and went back on the ship.
All in all, I would say not a bad little trip.
What? Yeah, I don't know if you were aware at the time, but everything
you just said seemed to...
Rhyme? Well, that's perfectly normal.
Nothing odd there. It's just a good way
for us Vikings to share the tales of battles we've had whilst away.
We could write it down but... It's nicer to say?
Well, I wouldn't say nicer, not nice as such, cos most of the time
it's all blood and guts and stabbing and looting and violence and hate.
But you say it in rhyme and it makes us sound great.
I think it sounds silly. You're doing it too.
I'm not. You just did. That's you.
Well, this is just practice, messing around.
The real battle poems would truly astound.
They're stirring and epic, a real work of art.
I could read you one now, I've learnt it by heart.
Enough with poems, I'm getting annoyed.
This is about all the towns we've destroyed.
I don't wanna hear it, leave me alone.
You'll like this one, it's one of my own.
Red flames swallowed up men's rooves as we raged and cut them down.
Bodies skewered lay there sleepy
in the gateways of the town.
Both brutal and touching, a most potent blend.
I think it could do with a joke at the end. It's not about jokes.
I'm spreading the word. Down the generations that verse will be heard.
Seriously, stop it now.
It's making me cross.
I'm not even going to make that bit rhyme. That's your loss!
But for me, I'm afraid this is more than a game.
I'm a warrior poet, and soon will come fame.
And years in the future they'll speak of a time when
Eric the Viking spoke only in words that sound the same as each other.
Oh, I think I've stopped.
Brilliant. Do you fancy an ale?
Er, yeah, all right then. Ah!
So, how's it going with you?
Ah, not too bad. Cow's got a gammy foot. Oh, really?
Vikings didn't always rhyme.
What could be worse?!
But many famous stories were written in verse.
Ha! It took me all week to work that one out.
Vikings loved playing with words.
The answer is...
B. His sword was called Leg Biter, because its bite could kill.
Remember, remember, the 5th of November.
Well, that was when a Stuart bloke called Guy Fawkes
tried to blow up the King about 400 years ago.
Hello. Fireworks Night can be very dangerous. I should know.
I'm Roman Catholic revolutionary Guy Fawkes, and I'm here to give you
a few important safety tips for November 5th.
Be very careful when transporting 36 barrels of highly explosive gunpowder
into a cellar below the Houses of Parliament.
Oh, no, no. No smoking.
Always make sure there are no fellow Catholics in Parliament.
You wouldn't want to blow them up, would you?
I think I'll write a letter to Lord Monteagle
to warn him not to come to Parliament on the 5th.
Ooh, hang on, could that jeopardise our plan?
Hmm...no, I think it'll be all right.
When you're going to light 36 barrels of gunpowder, do stand well back,
preferably three miles back, so you don't get caught red-handed. Gotcha!
I got a tip-off from Lord Monteagle.
I don't suppose you'd come back in 12 hours
when I've blown up the King, would you?!
No.
Do be careful not to get tortured.
Give me the names of your co-conspirators. No, no, no!
Not even that idiot what wrote to Lord Monteagle?
Oh, yes, you can have him.
And this is the most important one.
Under no circumstances get hung, drawn and quartered. All right, mate.
OK, you're over here.
It's just in here. Yeah?
It's true, when Lord Monteagle got the letter from Guy Fawkes' mate
warning him about the plot,
he passed the information straight on to the King's men.
He was rewarded with land and money.
Presumably he got a penny for the Guy!
HE LAUGHS
Oh, go on, I was pleased with that one.
People were always trying to get rid of the King in Stuart times.
And if blowing up your King didn't work, you could
always start a war against them.
Hello and welcome to the News at When. When? 1642.
That's the year civil war broke out in England.
King Charles I and his Cavaliers
were up against Oliver Cromwell and his Roundheads.
And which side you chose to be on could be a matter of life or death.
I cannot wait for this horrid civil war to be over.
It's got fathers battling sons and old friends fighting one another.
Not us, though. No, indeed.
We Cavaliers must stick together.
Forever loyal to good old King Charles. Exactly.
We're true blue Royalists, complete with snazzy outfits and wigs.
Yes, we're with the King whatever happens.
Even if Cromwell's Roundheads were marching up the hill?
Absolutely! Because they are actually marching up the hill.
Oh, good gracious, so they are. Erm...
Plan B!
Yes, we Roundheads must stick together.
That King Charles always pushing his weight around
and ignoring Parliament. Who does he think he is?
Exactly. Down with the monarchy.
Yes, we're Roundheads through and through.
Complete with our manky outfits.
Yep. We're with Cromwell, whatever happens.
Even if the Cavalier Army
are marching quickly up the other side of the hill?
Oh...
Back to Plan A!
Right, so...
God save the King and all that.
Hold on, your outfit's a bit mixed up.
I mean, you look like sort of a Roundalier.
Well, you look like a Cavahead.
We'll end up getting shot by both sides!
They're closing in.
What do we do?
There's only one thing for it. Not...
Yes - Plan C!
Wasn't there a Plan D?
It's Plan C, only without the pants.
The answer is...
A, he used dead bodies
as blankets.
In the Middle Ages, lots of knights sailed
from Europe to the Middle East to fight in wars known as the Crusades.
Lots of people died,
but that's not the only way they died in those days.
All right, just wait there.
Next. Cheers, Sir John.
I've been waiting decades to get in here.
Sorry, there's a backlog.
It's these Middle Ages, they're so gory, everyone's dying.
Yeah, tell me about it. Look I've just... Erm... Sorry...
Do you mind? Messy Jessie! Sorry.
Oh, all right, let's just get on with it, shall we? Name?
Sir Basil. Profession? Crusader.
Oh, not another one. I'll just put 'Ditto'.
Year of death? 1291.
Ditto. Method of death?
Take a wild guess. Oh, that's a new one actually.
You should have seen the other guy. Are you gonna be much longer?
Hey now... I'm so sorry, I'm a little bit wet.
I got a bit wet in the floods in Europe in 1315.
Really wet in fact, cos I drowned.
Tens of thousands of us did, so, you know... Floods, you say? Yeah.
Whatever next? The 100 Years War.
I was killed by some English pig in ze opening battle.
Don't look at me. 100 Years War?
Oui. Oh, well at least it can't get any worse.
Excuse me! SHE COUGHS
Whoa, Nellie... Sorry.
I died of the Black Death in 1349, so I'd stand well back if I was you.
Well, we're already dead, so...
There was a few million of us what died,
so we was wondering how long you was gonna be? Black Death?
Millions dead? You know, I'm fed up with all this dying.
I quit. What?
But you're ze Grim Reaper, what other job could you possibly do?
Yeah, you're mean,
you're nasty, you're old, you're sick-looking, what you gonna do?
I could always become a headmaster.
Actually, that is not a bad idea.
Yes.
In the Middle Ages, wars could go on for, well, ages.
Like the 100 Years War between England and France,
which went on for, oddly enough, 100 years.
Towards the end, English forces surrounded the city of Orleans,
stopping the French from getting out, and waiting, very cleverly,
till they ran out of food. Yeah.
It was called the Siege of Orleans.
Grub's up! It's Ready, Steady, Feast, live from
the Siege of Orleans, where the food ran out about three months ago.
We're starving. Literally.
Let's see what our contestants have brought to cook.
Please welcome Phillipe and Jean-Claude!
Hm, mm?
No. Definitely no.
Phillipe, what's your first item?
Well, we have a beautiful apple tree in the garden.
You've brought an apple. Wonderful.
Well, no, obviously we ate all ze apples months ago,
so I bring along a branch. Mmm!
Delicious. My second item,
an old boot. Leather. Lovely.
Boil that up for a couple of days until it's just like some beef, some
stinky beef that someone's been walking on for a year.
You see, my third item...
Mm, sultanas.
Rat droppings.
And here's my final item, the rat.
Where's the rest of the rat?
Well, I got a little bit peckish on the way over. OK.
Well, Phillipe's brought some wood, an old boot,
some rat droppings and half a rat.
So, let's see what Jean Claude has to offer. I've got five sausages.
Wow, where did you get them?
Grub's up!
# Tall tales, atrocious acts,
# We gave you all the fearsome facts
# The ugly truth, no glam or glitz, we showed you all the juicy bits
# Gory, ghastly, mean and cruel
# Stuff they don't teach you at school
# The past is no longer a mystery
# Hope you enjoyed
# Horrible Histories! #