Episode 5 Horrible Histories

# Terrible Tudors gorgeous Georgians Slimy Stewarts vile Victorians

# Woeful wars ferocious fights Dingy castles daring knights

# Horrors that defy description Cut-throat Counts or boiled Egyptians

# Vicious Vikings cruel crimes punishment from ancient times

# Romans rotten rank and ruthless Cavemen savage fierce and toothless

# Groovy Greeks brainy sages Mean and measly in the Middle Ages

# Gory stories we do that And your host's a talking rat

# The past is no longer a mystery

# Welcome to Horrible Histories. #

Awful Egyptians.

In ancient Egypt,

we had some pretty funny ideas about what made you look good.

Hey girls, do you want to keep up-to-date

with all the latest ancient Egyptian trends in make-up, hair and fashion?

Then you need to get new Pharaoh Phashion magazine!

In this week's issue, we'll show you the hottest,

and we mean hottest, new hair accessories.

I love my new wax comb.

It's so stylish, I'm never taking it off, because I can't.

It's melted into my hair.

Ow! Really hot.

And bold new hair fashions!

Don't follow the flock, wear a sheep's wool wig.

I look baa-beautiful.

Plus this season's must have make-up.

There's luscious lipstick, made from red powder.

Mixed with fat.

And fabulous eyeliner made from black lead.

It also works as a sun block and fly deterrent.

And I thought I looked ridiculous, ha-ha!

Darling, you do.

And we reveal the very latest fashion from ancient Egypt.

And you thought you had nothing to wear.

Yes, you too can go naked like an ancient Egyptian peasant.

So for all the latest from the world of Egyptian fashion,

don't miss Pharaoh Phashion magazine.

Yours to buy for only three radishes and two onions.

So, what could be weirder than wearing a waxed cone on your head?

Well, this could. Ha-Ha!

Say, "Goodbye, toothache."

Say, "Hello, healthy teeth and gums," with new Mouse Fresh Max.

A revolution in tooth care direct from ancient Egypt.

It's so easy to use.

Just take one live mouse, chop it in half

and pop it into your mouth while it's still lovely and warm.

As recommended by leading ancient Egyptian dentists.

I recommend Mouse Fresh Max for healthy teeth, every time.

Mouse Fresh Max, packed to the max with dead mouse freshness.

It's mouseerriffic!

Egyptian Mouse Fresh Max gives a whole new max freshness

for maximum fresh freshness,

with the great taste of dead mouse.

The answer is...

A - mashed up pigs eyes.

You poured the mixture into the patient's ear.

Ruthless Rulers!

The Abbot of Pain, my lord.

Oh, thank heavens you're here, my little Abbot!

I was so very bored, but now, you can amuse me.

Yes, King Louis.

You have a flare for making musical instruments.

Make me one that's totally preposterous and highly amusing.

The most incredible musical instrument there ever was!

Succeed, and you'll carry favour at court.

Fail, and you'll find yourself on A spike.

HE GULPS

If I don't have an idea soon, my head will be on a spike!

Sacre bleu! I have it!

HAMMERING

This had better be good.

Voila! The pig piano.

Formidable!

I love pigs.

Each key on the keyboard is connected to a spike,

which jabs the rump of the appropriate pig, like so.

PIG SQUEALS

HE CLEARS THROAT

PIGS OINK FRERE JACQUES

One is most definitely amused.

What do you think, Monsieur Simon Cowell?

Well, you...

were OK.

You, were rubbish.

And you, you, and you, were awful.

But you, I like.

You're through to the next round.

You wouldn't believe it, but the pig piano is a true story.

Though I wasn't alive then, obviously I'm not that old.

PIG SQUEALS

I'm not!

Measly middle ages.

Hello, and welcome to the News at When. When? 1086.

That's 20 years after the Norman King, William the Conqueror,

invaded England from France.

Now he wants to know exactly what he's conquered,

so he's ordered a survey of every single thing in the country.

He's calling it, the Doomsday Book.

KNOCKING

Hello. Can you open the door, please?

Good morning, sir. My name's Matilda,

and I'm calling today on behalf of William the Conqueror

concerning the new Doomsday Book.

Sorry, I don't buy things at the door.

No selling, sir, just a straightforward survey.

Would you be willing to answer a few questions?

Oh, I don't really like surveys.

I should point out this morning, sir,

that, as a conquered Saxon, you're obliged to answer the survey,

or a big Norman knight will come round and chop your head off.

All right then.

Lovely. First of all can I take your name?

They call me Affelstan Redbeard.

Mr Redbeard.

And would you describe yourself as Saxon, Celtic, Pictish or other?

-Saxon.

-And can I ask, were you aware that you'd been conquered?

I beg your pardon?

Were you previously aware that your army had been vanquished

by William the Conqueror and that you're now ruled by the Normans of Normandy, France?

No.

I'm afraid from now on it'll be "non." All right?

-Yes.

-From now on it'll be "oui". Is that OK?

Oui.

Bon! So, how many pigs have you got?

-Six.

-"Six."

And how many goats do you have?

-11.

-"Onze."

And how many chickens do you have?

-15.

-A HEAVY THUD

-14.

-Quatorze poulets.

Combien de poulet avez-vous?

Quatorze poulets, madam.

Lovely! And can I ask, do you own your own home?

No, I'm a serf.

I'll put, "common as muck."

And finally, do you swear allegiance to your new King William of Normandy?

Phew, oh...

We'll give you a few seconds to make your mind up.

-Yes, I do.

-Excellent.

I'll put that down as a "oui."

Do you want to buy any dusters?

No.

The answer is...

C - having your eyes gouged out.

And if you think that's gory,

then you should hear what happened at William's funeral.

You join us here on this most sombre of days in the year 1087,

as we witness the funeral of our great ruler, William the Conqueror,

who famously defeated Harold at the Battle of Hastings

to become the first Norman King of England, and now he lies in state.

As his servants respectfully run off with all his weapons, gold, silver,

furniture and, of course, his clothes.

And here come the undertakers to pick up the rotting, dead King

and try to stuff his body into the small coffin.

Moving scenes indeed.

And now, in a change to the planned ceremony, the church has caught fire.

And the mourners have gone to put the fire out,

leaving monks to finish stuffing his Majesty's body, into the coffin.

Oh, dear, one of his arms has dropped off there.

And now the King's stomach has exploded due to the build up of gases.

I imagine the smell in that church is really quite unforgettable.

And here comes the priest to conduct the King's funeral service,

slowly and respectfully.

We are gathered here to... Argh, it stinks!

Right, the service.

May his soul enter the kingdom of heaven and be received by his Holy Father, amen.

Now bury the stinky king. Ergh!

And there isn't a dry eye in the house.

Bleurgh! It's horrible!

But, you know, it's all true. That's right.

William the Conqueror's body really did explode at his own funeral.

See if you can find that on the Bayeaux Tapestry.

Rotten Romans.

Lots of our Roman rulers were a bit mad,

and one of the maddest was a bloke call Caligula.

He once actually wanted to go to war with a god!

My loyal generals, you have all served me well.

Thanks to your ceaseless warring

and general nastiness,

I, Caligula, now rule an empire of unimaginable scale.

-Whoo!

-Yes!

-However...

..there is one valiant foe that we've yet to conquer.

-Do you speak of the mighty tribes in the untamed lands of the east, my liege?

-No.

-Mean you then the savage Celts of the frozen wastes of the north?

-Nah!

Well, then, who would you've us fight, sire?

Poseidon.

-You're serious?

-Yes.

OK, but Poseidon is god of the sea. He's likely to be quite big.

-Bigger than me?!

-No, no, no.

No, big is the wrong word. What we meant was more, um...

God-ish?

But that's the whole point.

I mean, any old emperor can defeat the Carthaginians,

but it takes a special kind of emperor to take on a god.

Just think of the history books. "Oh, do you remember that Caligula?

"Oh, yes. Wasn't he the one that took on that god?"

No one's going to forget that in a hurry.

Hm, that maybe true sire,

but the problem is in order to go to war with Poseidon,

one would have to get hold of him.

But that's easy, he lives in the sea!

That's where we shall look for him.

Yeah, but isn't the sea quite big?

Bigger than me?!

No, no, no, no. No, that was the wrong word.

-Er, I meant more, um...

-Deep!

-Yes.

-And wet.

You know, it might be just a bit tricky to track him down.

Yes, well I've thought about that.

We line up every ship in the navy,

side by side, stretching out into the sea,

then we march the entire Roman army across the ships

and when they reach the end, they all throw their spears into the ocean.

HE GIGGLES

That'll show him who's boss.

Yeah, my only fear with that plan is that, to the untrained eye,

that might look a bit like thousands of men throwing sticks in the sea

for no good reason.

Are you saying I'm wrong?!

No, no, no, no, no!

I think it's a brilliant idea.

Tomorrow, we go to war with the sea!

ALL: Hail, Caligula.

Ah! So, how did it go?

Well, we didn't get Poseidon,

but we did get some of his soldiers?

Think you're bigger than me?!

Caligula was a famously crazy Roman emperor,

but he wasn't the only ruler who lost his temper with the sea.

Emperor Xerxes of Persia lost a load of ships in a war with Greece

and got so angry, he had the sea whipped.

He got 100 splashes. Get it?

Lashes, splashes. Ha, ha-ha!

Suit yourself.

Savage Stone Age.

Hello and welcome to the News At When. When?

Prehistoric time when caveman slowly evolved into modern man,

very slowly and in many different stages.

Here to guide you through them,

is Bob Hale with the Stone Age report. Bob.

Thanks, Sam. Well as you can see it's about 750,000 years ago.

That, believe it or not, is Britain and here comes the Stone Age.

And there go all the stones. There's plenty to go around

because the ground's about 125 metres higher than it is today.

In fact, you could walk to France!

But please don't, because we have guests. Starting with -

# Ta da da dah!

Homo Heidelbergenisis or Heidi to his friends.

There he is. He's six foot one, and he's tons of fun and hard as nails.

Heidi likes to hunt animals in big groups. Animals like hippos

and elephants and hamsters and lions - except not hamsters -

and it's all jolly good fun until suddenly...

They're gone! And why? Because it's cold like ice, for an age!

It's called an Ice Age and the whole country empties,

and absolutely nothing happens.

But not for long, the sun comes out

and the melting ice makes the English channel.

We are now an island. Hooray!

But no one can get here because they haven't invented boats,

so the only things in Britain are animals.

Animals like mammoths and wolves and, best of all, mega bears.

Yes, mega bears!

Like a grizzly bear, but twice the size.

No, he's bigger than that. Oh, he's bigger than that. There it is!

He's mean, lean and you wouldn't want to run into him on a dark night.

And then one dark night, someone runs into him.

Yes, the humans are back, but it's not Heidi any more.

He's evolved into Neanderthal.

Big brow, big nose, big news! And he loves to hunt.

He chases bears! He's chased by bears!

He chases mammoth! He's chased by mammoth!

It's all one big party until in 35,000 BC another guest turns up.

Do you recognise this fellow? It's you! It's me. It's modern man.

Yes, Homo Sapiens.

Our great-great-great-great times a million grandparents

are here to hang out with the Neanderthals.

I hope they've bought their coats because wouldn't you know it?

Here comes another Ice Age!

And when it's over only Homo Sapiens are left.

No more Neanderthals.

And since the weather's nice, great-great-great granddad gets a few jobs done.

He invents the wheel.

Beer. Painting. Archery.

And most important of all, farming,

which get's even easier when...

Bronze is invented.

Yes, it's goodbye Stone Age. Hello Bronze Age.

Then it's Iron Age, Roman Age, Middle Age, Industrial Age,

rotten age, act your age, old age and then death.

Aahh.

That's all 100% accu-rat.

Way, way, way, way back, Homo Sapiens, that's your relatives,

lived alongside Neanderthals, that's your PE teacher's relatives.

Only joking.

I wonder what Homo Sapiens thought of primitive Neanderthals.

-Darling.

-Hm.

-The Neanderthals are here.

-What?

-I invited them to dinner.

-I told you.

-You didn't tell me.

Keith, I'm just trying to do the neighbourly thing, all right?

When am I gonna finish this deer?

-Keith, just be civil please, they're here.

-All right.

-Ah.

Hello, hello.

-Hello.

-Nice to see you.

-Mm.

-Oop. There you go!

-Steady.

-It's Ug, isn't it? Ug, hello.

-Whoops.

-And you must be Mrs Ug.

-Mrs Ug.

Do you want to come through and make yourself at cave, as it were?

-Um, do you both eat meat?

-Meat.

-Meat.

-Meat, meat, meat.

-OK, hopefully that's a yes.

I'll just go and... Keith would you like to...?

I think that's a yes. Um, please.

Take a seat.

Sorry, sorry, sorry. Excuse me, Ug, what are you doing?

Ug take seat.

Um, sorry, no, I meant sit down, not, um...

Ah!

-Yep.

-I'm sure that's just his little joke.

I don't think it is.

Good.

Er, so the Neanderthals are dying out they tell me.

Ug.

Any reason why you think that might be?

You lot, Homo Sapian,

get best food, get best cave,

but you know main reason,

Ug stupid.

-Oh!

-Well, I mean, we're all similar, aren't we?

We're all descended from apes, um.

I mean you two, you two look a bit, wrong, but...but no, it's...

-Big forehead.

-Yes, that's clear.

-Yeah.

-Big nose.

-Didn't want to say anything.

-Face only mother could love.

-Oh!

Oh, don't do that, ow.

There's no reason you lot can't evolve to be as clever as us,

if you put your mind to it.

-Ug.

-Oh.

-Ug put bone in eye.

-Yes, you did, didn't you?

I mean intelligence isn't everything.

-No.

-I wouldn't be surprised if you lot didn't outlive us all, yeah.

Oh, dear! They're both dead!

-They've literally just died out.

-Yeah.

-But...

-Hm.

-Can't say I'm that sad - they were starting to bore me to tears.

-Hm.

-I just don't like primitive house guests.

-Yep.

-You know I don't like them.

The Pemberton's are about to arrive,

-I invited them to dinner as well.

-What?!

Geoff, Carol, hi!

-Carol, how are you? Do come in.

-Lovely to see you.

Shut up, Keith.

In Saxon Britain, we had some pretty silly ways of telling whether or not

someone was guilty of a crime.

The court of historical law is now in session.

Today, we'll be trying all crimes

using methods from Anglo Saxon Britain.

Today's prosecutor, all the way from 978 AD,

Ethelred the Unready.

Sorry, sorry. Huh!

Wasn't ready.

Ethelred the Unready, lawmaker and largely useless English King.

-Um..

-The accused,

Ted.

So then, Ted,

I put it to you that on the night of the 3rd July

you did meanly and with intentional naughtiness

steal a horse.

How do you plead?

-Not guilty.

-Oh, good, I hate it when they plead guilty.

-We don't get to do any of the fun stuff.

-W-what fun stuff?

Oh, we Anglo Saxons call them ordeals

because, well, they're a bit of an ordeal really.

-Really?

-Oh, yes, they're horrible.

Take you, for instance, the horse's owner says you did steal his horse

and you're saying you didn't.

-I didn't.

-Exactly, so how do we go about finding out the truth?

Um, do you gather evidence

and look for witnesses, then make a balanced and informed decision?

Ha ha ha!

No, we give you ordeal by ducking,

which is where we tie your toe to your wrist and chuck you in a river.

If you float, you're guilty, we cut off your hands and feet.

If you sink, you're innocent.

But dead?

Oh, yes, you probably drown.

Right, um, is there not another ordeal I could do instead?

How about ordeal by burning?

That's where you grip a white hot iron bar and walk three paces.

Then we bandage the wounds. After three days,

if the wounds aren't healed, you're guilty, off with the hands and feet.

If they're healed, you're innocent.

And how long would a wound like that normally take to heal?

Oh, good Lord! Months I imagine.

Are there any ordeals that are a bit less...impossible?

Ordeal by cake?

Oh, yeah, I like the sound of that one. What's that one like?

You eat a cake.

If you choke, you're guilty, off with the hands and feet.

If you manage to eat the cake without choking, you're innocent.

So, all I have to do is eat a piece of cake without choking?

Yes, tried and tested Anglo Saxon ordeal, that one.

-I think I'll go for that one then, please.

-Very well.

You've chosen ordeal by cake.

Simply swear an oath of innocence and eat away.

I swear that I'm innocent.

-That's very good, that is.

-Yes, made it myself.

CHOKING Guilty. Guilty!

Fair enough. I did nick that horse.

There really was an Anglo Saxon ordeal by cake, and what's more,

in 1053, Earl Harold Godwin, chose ordeal by cake and choked to death.

HE LAUGHS

If you were found to be guilty of a crime in Saxon Britain,

our punishments were really horrible.

And now time for our fairy tale series,

where all the stories are retold in different historical settings.

Today, Goldilocks And The Three Bears, The Saxon Version.

When the bear family returned home from their nice walk,

they saw that someone had eaten up all of baby bear's porridge.

And when the bears went into the

bedroom, they found Goldilocks still asleep in baby bear's bed.

Goldilocks woke up with a start

to see three angry bears staring at her.

Before you could say, "Who's been eating my porridge?"

-she was branded with the letter F.

-Ow.

And had her ears and hands cut off,

because that's what they used to do to thieves in Saxon times.

The end.

It's true. Saxons really did chop off thieves hands

and brand their foreheads so people would watch out for them. Huh!

Like they could steal stuff without any hands, der.

Gorgeous Georgians.

In Georgian times, Britain developed the strongest navy in the world,

but they needed lots of people to man all the ships.

These days, I'm a successful Georgian sailor working in the Royal Navy.

But not so long ago I was a lazy, no good, drunken, low life.

A bit like this lad.

Hello, you're my best mate.

My story could be your story too.

Would you like the chance to sail the seven seas?

Get whipped whenever the captain feels like it?

Have your injured limb hacked off with a saw by a drunk doctor?

Or eat biscuits teaming with creepy crawlies?

No? Well, tough!

This is the 1700's so we'll just wait until you're too drunk to stand,

then one of our press gangs will kidnap you and take you on board.

What's going on?

-Come on, out you come. You're still my best mate.

-Get the scum aboard.

The Georgian Royal Navy, bravely defending Britain's Empire

with some people found lying on the floor of the local tavern.

So, on board ship the doctor would hack off your arm with a saw, yuk.

And Georgian doctors weren't much better on land.

BP is falling rapidly. He's in tachycardia. Temperature's 102.

You'll be OK. All we have to do is find you a decent doctor.

Where's Zak? You're not a proper doctor.

So?

I'm Dr Montague Foselpeck, master of Georgian medicaments.

This poor creature is in dire need of my many medical skills.

What manner of misfortune has befallen this fellow?

Well, his misfortune is high fever, falling pulse...

Kindly leave the diagnosis to me, Sir.

It is obvious this man is suffering from the tumour.

There is but one cure. I shall need some ground up wood lice, some sugar,

nutmeg and a flask of fresh urine.

Fill this flask with your finest urine, young buck,

and I shall need some water.

That's better. What's this?

Fear of water?

He must also be suffering from the rabies.

The cure for this malady is quite simple.

I shall need the hair of the hound that first bit him.

The hair of the hound that first bit him? That will never work.

Impertinent as you are, young fellow, you might be right.

I have it, we'll add more urine.

Go to it, sir.

Sir Ann Saunders.

PATIENT GROANS

T'would seem he also has a headache.

Happily the remedy for a headache is most straightforward.

All I need is some mallow flowers and some snails to mash them up with.

-Crushed snail, dogs hair, wood lice.

-And, forget not, the flask of urine.

-Are you crazy?

-I'm not bound for Bedlam, sir.

These are all good Georgian remedies practised on kings and princes.

Oh, right, fair enough.

-Did they ever work?

-Of course not.

How do you think we got through four King Georges?

A toast to their royal memory.

No, that's the ur... Oh.

Ah!