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# Terrible Tudors Gorgeous Georgians
# Slimy Stuarts Vile Victorians
# Woeful wars Ferocious fights
# Dingy castles, daring knights
# Horrors that defy description
# Cut-throat Celts or royal Egyptians
# Vicious Vikings, cruel crime
# Punishment from ancient times
# Roman, rotten, rank and ruthless
# Cavemen, savage, fierce and toothless
# Groovy Greeks, reigning sages
# Neither mix with Middle Ages
# Gory stories, we do that
# And your host, a talking rat
# The past is no longer a mystery
# Welcome to Horrible Histories! #
In Saxon Britain, arguments between families
could really get out of control,
like in EastEnders, only with lots more blood.
I am bushed.
Your dad killed my dad!
That's only because your dad killed my uncle!
Your uncle deserved it for stealing my grandma's horse!
That was because...because...
You know, I can't remember that far back.
This blood feud between our two families
-has lasted so long, hasn't it?
-It has, hasn't it?
Anyway, your dad killed my dad and I demand revenge!
I liked that arm! That was my favourite!
Right, I'm gonna show you, then.
I'll get you for that.
Not if I get you first!
You killed my husband!
I demand revenge!
Oi! Did you just kill my husband?
Yeah, because he killed my husband first.
Yeah, but only because his dad killed his uncle.
Whoa, whoa! Knock, knock, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, now.
This blood feuding is getting out of hand.
-Who are you?
-I'm the king of Anglo-Saxon England.
-Don't you recognise me from the coin?
-Oh, my gosh!
You're so much sweatier in person.
Well, I've just run up a hill.
Right, to stop all this feuding,
I've come up with a new law.
OK? It's called Weregeld.
What it means is, if you commit a crime,
you have to pay money to the victim or their family.
OK? It's very, very simple.
Small crimes cost less,
big crimes cost more.
All right, then.
Ow! Ow, ow!
This is...all the time...well, 100 shillings,
so if you could pay that across.
Thanks very much.
Now get a load of this.
Right, so how much do I pay her family?
Like, 200 shillings, or something?
I don't think she's got any family left now, has she?
And this is getting ridiculous. OK, new law.
You have to pay the king now,
because she hasn't got any family.
-I'd complain, but I haven't got a leg to stand on.
It's true! And 100% accurate.
The Weregeld Law meant if you killed someone, you had to pay their family.
If you just hurt them a bit, you only had to pay for the bit you'd hurt.
So, cut off a big toe, that's 20 shillings.
Cut off a nose, 60 shillings. Wonder how much it is if you cut off a tail?
Bet the three blind mice were never paid by the farmer's wife.
Saxons really were a vicious bunch,
and they were very superstitious, too.
Welcome to Anglo-Saxon Ghost Hunt.
This week, I'm with Ethel Burger, of Norwich.
She's found something spooky in her hut.
-Come on. Shh.
Don't be afraid. Don't be afraid.
Where's that coming from? OK.
Whose ashes are in this jar?
That's my husband.
He was killed by the Vikings.
OK. You had him cremated, then?
-Yes, and he's haunting me.
Don't worry. That's why I'm here, all right?
He's trying to talk to me, OK?
He's trying to talk to me. Sorry, I can't quite hear.
-Let me out!
-All right, OK.
As every Anglo-Saxon knows,
what you should have done is put a hole in the side of the jar,
because when dead spirits find themselves confined in jars,
they get a bit cross.
So, just put a hole in there.
That's probably why he's haunting you.
Shh! Don't be afraid.
Where's that coming from? Who's in there?
That's my uncle, Athelrick.
He was killed by Vikings, too.
-OK, here's an idea.
Dead spirits like to have a bit of a natter,
just like we do.
So what we'll do is, we're just gonna mix up the ashes, like that.
So they can have a little natter now. OK, there! Problem is solved.
The haunting has stopped.
That's a great relief! Oh, phew.
What you should have done to avoid all this bother,
when they die, just chop their heads off.
It's a well-known Anglo-Saxon fact
that if you chop their heads off when they die,
they won't haunt you.
Is that true?
Only one way to find out! Aaagh!
Oh! Don't worry, don't worry.
Don't worry, it's a ghost.
It's only a g...
It's not a ghost, it's an actual Viking. Aaagh! Mummy!
Grub's up, it's Ready Steady Feast!
Today's guest is a Victorian gentleman
with the most unusual diet in history.
He's eaten stewed bluebottles, squirrel pie,
mouse on toast, he's even eaten roast giraffe.
What is he going to bring along today?
Please welcome Dr William Buckland.
Good day to you, madam,
and may I say it's a deep honour for me
to be on your esteemed entertainment programme.
I only hope I live up to your splendiferous introduction.
-Is that Victorian for hello?
Great, hello back. What ingredients have you brought for us to cook?
I didn't want to shock anyone,
so I brought items that I would eat on an average evening.
Here is my first item.
-A grey sock?
-No, an elephant's trunk.
For my second item, I've brought along a sauce.
I'm sure your audience already have a bottle of this in their larders.
-Oh, smells a bit nutty.
-Yes, it's bat's urine.
My third item,
I've got a rare French delicacy.
-What's rarer than truffles?
The heart of King Louis XIV. Yummy.
-That can't really be...
-Oh, it is.
It's the mummified heart
of the former king of France.
Stolen from his tomb
and bought by me. A delicacy.
Disgusting. Dread to think what's next.
Still, what could be worse than a 100-year-old human heart?
For my final item, I've brought along a pound of sprouts.
Sprouts? That IS disgusting.
-Mmm. Grub's up!
-No sprouts here, sunshine.
Put them back in your little bag.
-I've got some panther...
-I don't want your panther.
William Buckland really did eat all those things,
as well as alligator, roast ostrich and a mole.
Just imagine him doing a bushtucker trial, eh?
"Mmm, this is delicious. Got any more dried maggots?"
The answer is, he had all three.
He really was a potty Victorian,
and he wasn't the only one.
# Stupid deaths, stupid deaths They're funny cos they're true
# Stupid deaths, stupid deaths Hope next time it's not you! #
Year of death?
I'll just put "unemployed".
Method of death?
Well, I was the first man to swim the English Channel in 1875,
and I became quite the Victorian celebrity,
participating in exhibition swimming matches
and floating in a tank of water for 128 hours.
I even wrote a book.
The Art Of Swimming.
Hmm. So, method of death - water related, perchance?
I thought I'd go one better than swimming the Channel,
so I tried to swim across some rapids.
Hmm. And where were these rapids, exactly?
Underneath Niagara Falls.
-It wasn't pretty.
I bet it wasn't!
-Well, anyway, that's for you. I signed that for you.
Ooh, thank you. Burn it!
# Stupid deaths, stupid deaths Hope next time it's not you! #
Some women did their bit for the war effort
by working in munitions factories,
making things like grenades, ammunition and bombs.
Working in a munitions factory can be hard work,
so when I go out at the end of the day, I like to look my best.
I always steal deadly high explosives from the production line
and use it to dye my hair.
A little TNT can really liven up your locks,
transforming you from a brunette to a blonde.
I never knew I could look this good!
Here's the science bit.
TNT's the abbreviated name for the chemical compound trinitrotoluene.
It's used in bombs to blow things to kingdom come.
It'll bleach your hair, but it can turn your skin yellow, too.
Now I'm blonde all over!
Hey, I'm a real blonde bombshell!
Even though many women
genuinely used TNT to bleach their hair during the war,
putting high explosive on your head is ill-advised
and could result in death.
Dodgy war inventions, number 16.
The First World War's Zeppelin airship.
Zeppelins were basically massive gas balloons with engines,
designed by the Germans to drop bombs on British cities.
They were brilliant,
because their enormous size meant they could carry loads of bombs.
But there was one small problem.
Their enormous size also meant they were almost impossible to miss.
IN GERMAN ACCENT:
Does anybody have some chewing gum and a bicycle pump?
Right, how are we feeling?
I'm not any better. I really need to see a doctor.
I know, but our best doctors are off sick,
and I'm afraid that just leaves Dr Hippocrates, the ancient Greek.
Yes, yes, sorry I'm late.
Let's get started, shall we?
Hello, I'm Dr Hippocrates, father of medicine,
on transfer from the year 400BC.
What seems to be the problem?
Well, I've got a bit of a cough and I've got a terrible pain in my chest.
Hmm. Have you been violently shaken up and down, at all?
-Why on earth not?
Nurse, shake this woman violently up and down.
If you hear a splashing sound, she has lung disease.
If not, apologise and put her down.
Hello, my name's Dr Hippocrates. What seems to be the problem?
I've got a nasty gash on my arm.
It doesn't seem to be healing. I'm just worried it might be infected.
Hmm. I think we might have to run a few tests.
First of all, I'll need a sample from the wound itself.
-Then I'll need a sample of your earwax.
Couple of nice fresh bogies.
Of course, last but by no means least,
of your wee-wee.
Um, how long will it take for the results to come back?
Oh, I should say about 10-15 seconds.
The good news is, I don't think there's any infection.
Great. What's the bad news?
I'm going to be sick.
You know what I'd call a mixture of blood, earwax, bogey and wee?
Of course, Hippocrates didn't really drink all that in one go.
That would have been quite disgusting.
He had them one at a time,
which makes it OK, I'm sure you'll agree.
All doctors still have to take the Hippocratic oath,
named after Hippocrates.
And he's not the only Greek who gave his name to things.
There was also Alexander the Great,
a great military leader who conquered countries and founded cities.
So what should we call this new city, oh, Alexander?
-Sorry, oh, Alexander The Great.
I think we should call it...
..Alexandria, after our great and powerful leader.
Where is he? Where is he?
Where is he? There he is.
Well, you have founded a whole chain of cities from Greece to India.
Indeed I have.
And you named this one Alexandria.
-And you named this one Alexandria, didn't you?
-Then there's Alexandria.
Further east, there's Alexandria.
Let's not forget Alexandria.
No. Well, that's the thing.
I think it might be getting a bit confusing, don't you?
Could we perhaps name this new one after someone else?
OK, I am the greatest military commander that ever lived.
I have conquered the known world and I am barely 26 years old.
Perhaps when you've found your own city, you can name it after yourself.
You could call it...Skinny-man-dria.
But since I'm founding them,
I'd like to call it Alexandria. OK?
No, actually do you know what?
Perhaps you're right.
A great military ruler also listens to his advisors.
It is getting a bit confusing.
I think we should call it Iskenderun.
Is it Turkish for Alexandria?
Hello and welcome to the News At When. When?
The Roman era, a time when Rome was the most powerful city in the world,
and who ruled Rome became a question of life or death, literally.
Here to explain more is Bob Hale, with the Roman Report.
-Thank you, Sam.
Well, you may have heard Rome wasn't built in a day, and it wasn't.
In fact, it took them a whole year.
The year 753BC, to be precise,
and there it is, slap bang in the middle of Italy.
Rome is founded, and it starts as a kingdom, which means it needs a king.
And there he is. In fact, there were several right up until 510BC,
when we get one called Tarquin - no, don't laugh
- and he's a terrible bully.
So bad, in fact, that the Romans get rid of him.
Not just him, but kings altogether.
Crikey. Rome becomes a republic.
Which means it's now ruled by the senate, 300 elected senators,
which makes it a democracy, a bit like our parliament,
but with a lot less shouting.
And the busy senators have a massive empire to run,
so they appoint people to do stuff for them,
lawmakers and governors and praetors and quaestors and aediles
and all sorts of other people with silly sounding jobs,
until Julius Caesar turns up and says, "Whoa!
"There's too many of you and your jobs sound silly.
"Why not just have one person in charge of everything?
"Someone like, ooh, I don't know, me!"
Yes, Julius Caesar becomes dictator.
He keeps the senate but, basically, he's in charge.
Bit like a headmaster, but with a lot less shouting.
Then Caesar gets murdered.
And a fellow called Augustus takes over
and decides the senate is still too powerful,
so he makes himself emperor, and says the senate can only give him advice.
And being emperor is a great job.
There's banquets and power and helicopters and money,
except not helicopters. And it's so great that everyone wants to be one.
People start queueing up to be next. If they get bored of queueing,
they just kill the current emperor and take over. Brilliant!
Until someone kills them, and someone kills them,
and...well, you get the picture.
There's a lot of dead emperors.
If we look at the emperorometer,
we can see that in 193AD, there were five different emperors,
a whopping six in the year 238AD
and, between 238 and 285AD,
there were no less than 25 different Roman emperors.
And their names were Gordian and Gordian and Maximus and Balbinus
and Gordian and Decius and Sabinianus and Iatopabainius...
HE STARTS SINGING "MACARENA"
Back to you, Sam.
HE CARRIES ON SINGING
Some of our Roman emperors were pretty crazy,
and Emperor Caligula was one of the craziest.
You should have heard his speeches.
Hail Caligula, Emperor of Rome.
Ah, Josephus, who am I?
-No, I'm the famous Greek general, Alexander The Great.
This is his real armour and everything.
I had them dig up his grave so I could wear it. Oh, look, a worm.
I've been sent to help you with this speech.
We're a little concerned you might come over a bit...crazy.
I'm not crazy, I just have a great sense of humour.
Did you hear about the sacrifice of the bulls the other day?
Yes. You hit the priest with the hammer and sacrificed him instead.
Ha ha! That's still funny. So anyway, what's wrong with the speech?
Well, take the beginning.
Ah, yes. My big opening.
"I, Caligula am a god.
"I only have to nod,
"and all your throats will be cut."
Right. How about starting with hello?
Oh. Really? All right.
"Rome is just a city of necks waiting for me to chop!"
It's good... how about,
"Hello, it's great to be here in Rome. What a city."
Hmm, so you'd lose the whole chopping necks thing completely?
I wouldn't start with it.
Hmm, I thought they'd love that. You liked it, didn't you, wormy?
"Yes, I did, I thought it was wonderful."
Good old wormy. Oh, well...
Um, how about if I just say, "Hello, it's great to be here in Rome.
"What a city!
"Thank you all for coming."
They might not think I'm crazy.
Yeah. By the way, what is the occasion?
Oh, I'm making my dear friend Incitatus a consul.
-Well, there's nothing crazy about that.
-No, he is my favourite horse.
He's a good horse, isn't he, wormy?
"No, I don't like him." How dare you!
"Let me out!" No, bad wormy. Dirty wormy.
The answer is...A.
Incitatus the horse was fed oats mixed with flakes of gold.
He also had 18 servants and a stable the size of a palace.
Our Tudor queen, Elizabeth I,
just loved making up nicknames for people.
Pygmy! Ah, there you are, Pygmy.
Yes, I do wish you wouldn't call me that, Your Majesty.
You could just call me Robert or Cecil,
or Robert Cecil. Or indeed, First Minister.
But you know how I love nicknames, Pygmy.
I give all my favourite courtiers nicknames, Pygmy.
And anyway, Pygmy suits you, Pygmy, because you're so short and ugly.
Bravo! Such wit!
And why did you call for your First Minister, Majesty?
Is it a matter of national importance?
-Indeed. I seek your counsel on a most pressing international issue.
My new French friend, the Duke of Alencon, needs a nickname.
Oui, oui, I demand my own nickname.
Usually I'm so good at coming up with nicknames, aren't I, Water?
Oh, indeed you are, my queen.
When I first introduced myself as dashing explorer, Walter Raleigh,
you cleverly noticed that with my West Country accent,
I don't pronounce my Ls properly.
So instead of Walter Raleigh, he became Water Raleigh.
Water Raleigh! Inspired.
So now, my French friend needs a nickname.
I think I have it.
I shall call you Frog.
Frog, because I am French! Formidable.
No, Frog, because your skin is so horrid and slimy, like a frog's.
Those are all real nicknames Elizabeth used for her friends.
Some were pretty nasty,
but it was worse if she didn't give you a nickname.
It meant she didn't like you,
and you wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of Liz. Oh!
Tudors love chopping people's heads off.
And this week in Oh, Yea! magazine, it's our execution special.
We've got exclusive pictures of the execution order
Queen Elizabeth signed for her own cousin, Mary, Queen Of Scots.
Also this week, My Axe Shame, by Mary's executioner.
Oh, no. I let the big occasion get to me, I'm afraid.
I kept hitting her head and the shoulders instead of her neck.
But luckily, the story has a happy ending.
I sawed through her neck gristle.
And don't miss our exclusive survey -
which Tudor monarch is the meanest,
or are they all just as bad as each other?
That's all in this week's Oh, Yea! magazine.
Just popping out to chop some wives.
Oi! That's me you're talking about.
# Tall tales, atrocious acts
# We gave you all the fearsome facts
# The ugly truth, no glam or glitz
# We chose 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. #
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