Episode 8 Horrible Histories

# 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 crime Punishment from ancient times

# Roman, rotten, rank and ruthless Cavemen savage, fierce and toothless

# Groovy Greeks, reigning sages Mean and measly Middle Ages

# Gory stories We do that

# And your host a talking rat

# The past is no longer a mystery

# Welcome to Horrible Histories. #

Viking warriors, tomorrow, as the sun rises, we set sail for England!

ALL: Yes!

We must be bold, we must be terrifying!

We have our axes.

We have our daggers.

We have our swords, but now we have a new weapon at our disposal.

-Make-up.

-What!

Do this, my brothers...

and you shall strike fear into our enemies' hearts.

ALL: YES!

Let's go and kill some monks.

Olaf, good work, you look truly bloodcurdling,

Sven, my old friend, excellent, you will chill the enemy to their bones.

Bjorn, that's what I call really scary.

Eric...

It's the nose, isn't it? A bit much?

No, it's, really terrifying.

Let's get us some monasteries!

It's true though, those rough, tough Viking warriors liked to wear

eye make-up, neatly trim their beards and have

a good wash every Saturday night.

When they invaded Britain, they loved to pick on

easy targets, like poor, defenceless monks.

Do you know, Vikings were basically just great big girls, yeah?

But don't tell them I said that!

Whoa! Stop! Whoa, what's going on?

We were minding our own business, they came out the blue with axes.

ALL TALK AT ONCE

Da, da, da, da, da! One at a time please! You, is what he said true?

I asked you to stop for a second while we sort this out, please.

I was just... He...

Thank you, now what are you doing here? This is Lindisfarne,

we're a monastery, we're peaceful people.

Well, I hadn't

really thought about it before. Why did we sail here from Scandinavia?

Maybe it's because there's not enough food,

there's a shortage of herring where we're from.

We needed more land, my dad's left all of his land

-to my older brother, which isn't fair.

-But it is a bit crowded.

Well, we do need more space to live.

Plus we've got a new Viking king now,

and he's such a bully. As are our wives.

It seems to me like you don't know why you're here,

why don't you just go home and we'll say no more about it.

No, I've just remembered what it is, it's because killing is really fun

and taking stuff from monks is very easy.

-That's it.

-Yeah, yeah, it was, it's mainly that, that was it.

Right, well...

as long as we're clear on that...

carry on.

You're watching HH TV Sports bringing you exclusive live

sporting events from the past.

Today, it's football, but not as you know it.

Time to go over live to the 1500s to join our commentator, pit side.

Hello and welcome to Tudor England,

where the big sport of the common man is an early form of football.

I'm here with Alan, captain of the Roxbridge Village team,

who's here to tell me a little bit more about the sport.

Alan, I understand it's a very important match here today?

Yes, Gary, the whole village has turned out.

Great to see so much support for the team.

Support? No, everyone plays for the team, the whole village is playing,

it's our village versus the neighbouring village.

I see, and what's the score?

Oh, it's still 0-0, but we did come close to a goal.

-Really, how close exactly?

-About two and a half miles.

Two and a half miles?

We play between two villages and the winning team

gets the ball to the opposing village.

I don't... Argh! And...and this is your ball?

-Yeah, it's made of pig's bladder.

-It looks like a pig...

Argh! Now... I... That... Wait... That, that... That is inexcusable.

-Where is the referee?

-There's no referee, there's no rules.

Oh, that does explain the black eye,

the broken finger and what appears to be a bitten ear.

Yeah, well, it's just a gentle game today, Gary.

Last game, I dislocated my arm and broke my jaw.

Would it be possible to have a word with the captain of the opposition?

-Go ahead.

-Thank you. So, how's the game going from your point of view?

Hi, Gary. Yeah, pretty good.

I think it'll be a long one... Could go on for hours.

-Some of the lads will end up flat on their backs.

-Exhausted?

No, dead. It's how brutal the game can be. Want to be on our side?

I'll certainly give it a go.

Um... Oh! Oh!

Yep, still got it, back to the studio.

Henry VIII needed lots of young fit men for the English army.

So many people were getting injured playing Tudor football, in 1540

Henry made it illegal.

There really were some unusual laws in Tudor times.

-Give me your purse.

-Oh!

-Give me your purse!

-Take it, take it!

-Lovely, hold on, hold on. Right...

There's your change and I'll just write you a receipt.

-Excuse me?

-I only wanted 11p, so I gave you the rest

and I'll write you a little piece of paper.

That just saves any confusion, should it come to court.

Um, I'm still a little confused.

Well, you see, if you steal 11 pence or less they

chuck you in prison, but if you steal

12 pence or more then they sentence you to death.

-Oh, I see!

-So I'll just write you this receipt.

Not going to sign it, for obvious reasons.

OK, there you go, have a nice day.

That's the most pleasant mugging

-I've ever had.

-Oh, well, we take pride in our work.

In fact, here's a penny for your trouble.

Oh, well, thank you very much, that's very kind of you.

This makes 12 pence, if I'm caught...

It looks like somebody's for the chop.

Oh, no, this is a tip.

-Oh, ho, it's a tip, is it?

-Yes.

-Oh, that's right...so you weren't mugging her?

-No, I was.

I'm going to chop your head off.

Oh, have mercy Sir.

Us ancient Egyptians used a clever writing system called hieroglyphics,

but it was not an easy system to learn, check this out.

# Settle down class Now you've passed

# Your grade one pyramid selling

# Yeah, the time has come for me to drum

# Some facts into you about spelling

# Oh, it seems to me your ABC

# Skills are less than terrific

# So buck up, boys As we master the joys

# Of the lovely hieroglyphic, woo!

# Everyone needs their ABC

# It's as simple as vulture, foot, basket

# You know how to sing doh, ray, me

# Easy to spell It's hand, eye, thingy, owl

# ABC, vulture, foot, basket

# Doh, ray me

# Hand, eye, thingy, owl

# You'll pass with ease and find it's a breeze

# The rules are scientific

# Don't have to be smart all you do is start

# With simple phonetic glyphics

# Next you get to learn as a set more things called logographic

# Finally, third, the form of a word determinatives

Horrific!

# Everyone needs their flamingo, house, sun

# It's simple, but sun can mean duck, everyone

# You all know how to write your name

Except for me, Tutan Nephertiti Khamun!

-# Flamingo, house, sun

-Means duck to some

-# Tutan Nephertiti Khamun

-Let's just leave that one

# If you find it hard Don't be afraid

# To go and ask your mummy for aid

# Now, it's time for a spelling bee

# That's not how you spell bee see me!

Foot, reed, reed... Easy!

# Cat, pig, dog, rat, duck, frog Make your spelling magnific

# You can go up and down, left and right and around

# The punctuation in hieroglyphic

# A B C D E F G

# Just 700 characters or so

# Now that's done, let's have fun

# With numbers, here we go

# Everyone needs their 123

# It's as simple as eye, eye, eye, eye

# You can all count to 99... # Easy to write it's hoop, hoop, hoop

Hoop, hoop, hoop, eye, eye, eye, eye, eye, eye, eye, eye, eye, eye.

-# 123

-Eye, eye, eye, eye, eye, eye

-# 99

-Hoop, hoop, hoop, hoop, hoop,

Hoop, eye, eye, eye, eye, eye, eye, eye, eye, eye, eye... Basket?

The answer is B, they cut off and counted the right hands.

One of the worst battles in the Second World War was the

one the Russians and the Germans had over the city of Stalingrad, here.

It lasted for seven months and

in the cruel Russian winter, the Germans soon ran out of supplies

and had to improvise, in the most gruesome of ways.

Oh, ha, ha.

Greetings, Herr Soldier.

Greetings, Herr Stodman. I'm here about a few supplies,

some new boots, a jacket and some food.

Excellent. Well, I shall take ze whole lot.

No, zat is what I want from you.

What?

You are joking, right? We have been fighting

here in Russia for six months now, we have run out of all our supplies.

But I need new things, my boots,

zey have so many holes in them, I don't feel like I'm wearing any.

Well, you are not wearing any.

Oh, well, zat would explain it.

-Is there nothing that you can give me?

-Well, I think you're in luck.

I got these boots in this morning, good quality too, they're Russian.

-How do you know zey are Russian?

-Er....

There was a Russian in them.

-I cannot wear those!

-Of course you can, you just put

them in ze oven for ten minutes and ze legs will pop right out.

I'm not going to wear a dead man's boots.

Is there nothing else you have, a jacket?

I am so cold I have goose pimples on my goose pimples.

Argh, I have just the thing.

We managed to get this in from Berlin.

-Oh, perfect.

-Ah...

Oh, zat is better, oh... And it is not off a dead man, right?

No, it is from a dead woman.

Brrrrr! What about food, do you have any food?

Ah, well,

only tis rather suspiciously named meat paste, I got it in from Germany.

-What's it like?

-Well, ze impression I got from Lieutenant Gotlieb was,

it's not very good for you.

-Who's Lieutenant Gotlieb?

-Er, zis fellow over here.

Zat is exactly what Gotlieb did, except from both ends.

All you have is inedible food, a dead man's boots, a dead woman's

coat? Is there nothing you have that is any use to me?

Well, as our 10,000th customer,

you have just won, an all-expenses-paid fortnight

on the beaches of Brazil.

-Oh, really.

-No. Raus!

Can I not work here with you?

No, I'm afraid it is just me and Gotlieb.

-Auf wiedersehen.

-Look at it.

For the Germans, the Battle of Stalingrad was a tactical disaster.

Mind you, some of the Russian tactics during World War Two

didn't go that well either.

The Second World War's Russian anti-tank device.

The penniless Russians needed a cheap way to destroy the unbeatable

German tanks, so they invented...

Dog bombs.

Yes, dogs were trained to run underneath tanks

with bombs strapped to their backs.

The Russians sent their brilliant

new doggy weapon into battle but there was one small problem.

The dogs had been trained to run under Russian tanks.

Nyet! There, doggy, stay...sit.

So they ran under the Russian tanks.

Bad doggy.

Oh, well, back to drawing board.

Hi, I'm a shouty Georgian woman,

and I'm here to tell you about the very latest

in Georgian mobile communication technology, the fan.

Each little gesture with the fan send out a totally different message,

and it's so simple to use,

and your parents won't have a clue what you're messaging.

Send thousands of messages a day, and there's no bill to pay,

everybody should have one.

-Except you, because you're a bloke.

-Yeah, terribly sorry.

It's also handy for wafting away foul smells, phewee.

Yeah, terribly sorry.

So don't delay, buy your Georgian fan today.

'Warning, too much fan flattering

can seriously damage a lady's wrist.'

Ow.

Are you quite well, daughter?

Oh, most well, father.

Good day, Mr Willis.

Good day, Mr Andrews.

Surprisingly warm weather for the time of year, Mr Willis.

Er, indeed, Mr Andrews.

Yes!

Yes, this is my favourite composer.

Whooo!

It's the latest dance from London town, Mr Willis.

I see, Mr Andrews.

-Soon.

-Sorry?

Spoon. I need a spoon.

Strange boy.

Sir, there is a most pressing question

I would like to ask your daughter.

HE CRIES

Strange, strange boy.

We Georgian ladies may have had some funny customs,

but let me assure you, Georgian gentleman were just as silly.

Hiya, fashion fans, and welcome to another Historical Fashion Fix.

This week it's all about wigs, stockings and makeup,

you've guessed it,

this week we're going to be making over a Georgian man,

-so let's meet him now. Hi, Daniel.

-Sorry?

Let's see if we can't work some Fashion Fix magic,

-and turn you into an authentic Georgian aristocrat.

-All right.

Let's sort out that skin.

-He's looking pretty pale.

-I haven't eaten in a week.

But he could do with being a lot paler,

so I've stuck some leeches on his arm.

But he's still not pale enough for a Georgian aristocrat,

so to make Daniel even whiter, you could use chalk dust,

but I prefer to use highly toxic lead paint.

Just add some lipstick and blusher, and let's see the difference.

There, much more manly. Do you like it, Daniel?

Course he does, he loves it.

Now, let's do something about those awful clothes.

Well, at least I can't look any more ridiculous.

I stand corrected.

Every bit the Georgian gent,

and that padding really accentuates Daniel's lovely calves.

What you doing?

Just time for the finishing touches, the wig.

The wig is held in place using powder made from flour, starch, nutmeg,

and, of course, gold dust.

There. Looking good, but there's one thing missing.

No Georgian gent is complete without some lice in his wig.

-How do you like your look, Daniel?

-I look like a poodle on a cushion.

Some people just can't wear good clothes.

You have given me nothing for this programme, absolutely nothing.

That's it this week from Fashion Fix,

join me next time, when I'll be teaching a stone age caveman

that it's better to wear some clothes for once. See you.

Posh Georgian men who dressed up like that were known as Macaronis.

Not sure why,

presumably because they looked better covered in cheese. Ha-ha-ha!

Mind you, I think everything looks better covered in cheese.

# Stupid deaths, stupid deaths

# They're funny cos they're true

# Woo Stupid deaths, stupid deaths

# Hope next time it's not you He-he. #

Oh! Next!

And you are?

Sir Arthur Aston, English army officer.

Yeah, yeah, course you are, whatever. Come on, entertain me.

Well, I was showing off on my horse

-for the benefit of some lovely young ladies.

-Hmm, and?

Well, I fell off the horse, I broke my leg,

it turned septic, so I had to have it amputated.

-And you bled to death?

-Oh, no, no, no, I was fine.

-Oh, shame.

-You see, I was given this rather wonderful wooden leg,

and I was able to return to the army,

and soon I found myself in a battle, against Oliver Cromwell's army.

Oh, good. How did it go?

Not brilliantly, I was captured and, well, I was beaten to death.

With my own wooden leg.

HE LAUGHS

With your own wood...

Oh, that's hilarious!

I bet you were hopping mad!

Hopping!

You're very insensitive, you know that?

It's a yes from me, Arthur, you're through to the afterlife.

Oh, thank you, thank you.

Hop along now. Hop along!

Very insensitive.

Oh, dear. You know, I love my job sometimes, I do, I really do.

Next!

# Stupid deaths, stupid deaths

# Hope next time it's not you Hoo-hoo! #

We Stuarts believed that after the Battle of Edgehill in 1642,

the ghosts of the soldiers who died

could be seen acting out the battle again and again.

Whoo, and here's another scary story.

Greetings, fright fans.

I am Vincenzo Laughoff, and this week's scary story

is a ghostly tale from Stuart times, The Terror Of Tedworth.

It was the year 1662.

A magistrate named John Mompesson

was visiting the town of Tedworth in Wiltshire,

where he was disturbed by a local busker repeatedly banging on a drum.

DRUM BANGS

Quiet, we're recording.

The magistrate checked the man's license to busk,

and, finding it to be a forgery, threw him in jail,

and confiscated his drum, a decision he would come to regret.

DRUM DONGS

Dong indeed. After the busker was freed from jail,

he simply disappeared,

and it soon became clear that he must have perished,

because his ghost started to haunt the mean magistrate.

GHOST WHOOS

Oh, no, it was much more than a mere "Whoo, whoo."

The spirit of the dead busker plagued the magistrate's house.

At first, his drum began to bang itself.

Then doors would open and shut on their own,

unseen creatures would gnaw at the walls.

Coins would turn black inside pockets,

and red, staring eyes would appear in the darkness.

Had the busker's soul come back from the dead

to wreak his revenge on the meddling magistrate?

Was his ghost destined to forever haunt the horror-filled house?

No, he was alive and well, and living in Gloucester.

What?

I thought he was dead!

Ah! You see, the drummer wasn't dead at all,

he was found in Gloucester,

where he was arrested for stealing a pig?

There was no ghost at all? What is this, Scooby-Doo?

You can't have a ghost story where there's no ghost, right?

All that stuff about a drum banging itself, was that just made up?

All this does, it just makes me look silly.

I didn't spend two weeks at drama school's summer camp

to end up doing this sort of rubbish.

Unbelievable.

One of our most famous Roman generals was called Julius Caesar,

he went all the way to the top, but what goes up, must come down.

Don't miss this week's News Of The Empire exclusive,

it's our Caesar special.

He defeated the Gauls in France, and invaded Britain.

I came, I saw, I conquered, I...

oh, oh, oh ..I caught a cold, the weather was terrible,

so I came home again. Atchoo!

Now, Rome's greatest general has gone from hero to zero,

yes, JC's reputation is in meltdown,

because he started going out with the Queen of Egypt.

Has Cleopatra really stolen his heart?

So what if she has? My wife won't mind.

We reveal the truth behind the rumours.

Has Cleo really had Caesar's baby?

Well, here's a clue, he's called Caesarean.

He has got my nose, I suppose.

BABY CRIES

-Oh, there, there, it's not that big.

-All right!

Plus, it's a fashion faux pas,

as Caesar is spotted wearing these red boots,

just like the last King of Rome.

We ask, is Caesar getting too big for his own boots?

I just like the colour. It doesn't mean to say I want to be King. What?

OK, so I have declared myself dictator for life, but...

And exclusive, the knives are out for Caesar.

In our assassination pull-out special,

we list the Senators plotting to stab him in the back.

-Wait a minute, who wants to kill me?

-Find out tomorrow.

No, no, no, seriously, who wants to kill me?

Only in this week's News Of The Empire, a cracking good read,

although it is all in Latin.

It's true, Caesar started wearing red leather boots,

just like the ancient Roman Kings,

and they were hated by the people of Rome.

The last one, Tarquinius Superbus, had been so evil,

they got rid of kings altogether.

Hey! Good name though, Superbus. Rattus Superbus.

I rather like that, suits me.

Anyway, Caesar really put his foot in it, and ended up, well,

getting assassinated.

Hello, and welcome to another Crimewatch BC.

Now, we start this week with a murder,

which took place right in the centre of ancient Rome.

The victim was this man, Julius Caesar, a soldier and politician,

who was recently made dictator of Rome for life.

It seems Mr Caesar may have known he was a possible target.

On the morning that my husband, Caesar was murdered,

I had warned him not to go to the Senate.

All the omens were bad, they were really bad.

Don't go, Caesar! I don't want you to go. A few weeks ago,

a bird flew into the Senate house with a laurel leaf in its beak.

-So what?

-Well, it's a warning.

What, a warning that it might poo on someone's head?

No, it's a warning that someone's going to get killed,

someone wearing a crown of laurel leaves on their head.

What? That is just superstitious nonsense.

I've got a feeling something really bad's going to happen.

Oh, yeah, maybe you're right,

maybe something really, really bad is going to happen, yes.

Oh, look, SMASH

it just did. Brilliant. See you later.

Caesar ignored the bad omens, and went to the Senate House anyway.

He was murdered there in broad daylight on the 15th of March.

-Take that, Caesar!

-Ow, that's me you're stabbing!

Well, I don't know, all I can see is togas!

-Ow, you did it again.

-Sorry!

I have with me in the studio, a man who saw the whole thing happen.

So, why do you think so many people stabbed Caesar?

I think the murderers thought it would be everyone's responsibility,

we'd all be in it together. Sorry, they'd all be in it together.

Any idea why THEY did it?

I'm told they thought Caesar had too much power and wanted to be a King,

so Caesar had to die!

Well, that's what some people thought, anyway.

Oh, must remember to do the washing up.

Also with me in the studio is the man leading the hunt

for Caesar's murderers, Senator Mark Antony.

Now, Senator, what do we know about the murderers?

Well, Kirsty, one thing we do know is their identities.

There's Casca and Cimber. Then there's the ringleaders,

Brutus and Cassius.

So, you know who did it, what next?

Well, we'd very much like to speak to them,

just a little chat to see if they can assist us in our enquiries.

-Really?

-No, we want to kill them and burn down their houses,

but I don't want to say that in public, just in case they run away.

See ya!

Me and my big mouth.

I should probably run after him.

Go.

Want to travel through the time sewers with me?

Then play Horrible Histories terrible treasures.

Go to the CBBC website, and click on Horrible Histories.

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