Episode 11 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 crimes Punishment from ancient times

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

# Groovy Greeks, brainy 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. #

Woo, woo, woo.

Sergeant Bones, Historical Road Traffic Accident Squad.

I got demoted, I don't want to talk about it.

Major cycling incident, two people involved.

I'm talking into tape recorder,

so it doesn't look like I'm talking to self.

-I say.

-It's pretty obvious what happened here,

your two bicycles crashed into each other.

Two bicycles? No, no, we were on a velocipede.

You were riding together on one bike, but there's four wheels.

A velocipede has four wheels.

I was on the passenger seat at the front.

Oh, yes, I see, there are two seats here, hang on a minute, what's this?

The drawing board.

We hired it from Crystal Palace,

they're all fitted with drawing boards there.

Daphne's awfully good at drawing, aren't you?

-Oh, Arthur.

-And quick, by the look of it.

Hold on, there's an umbrella here. You've clearly hit a pedestrian.

No, that was the parasol. You can't carry an umbrella on a bicycle.

You mean it's fitted with a sunshade?

-Of course!

-We don't want to get sunburned, do we?

A-ha. Foul play, just as I suspected.

Your velocipede has had its brakes removed.

Velocipedes don't have brakes.

-What?

-To stop them, you have to jump off and run alongside.

Although crashing it into a tree does pretty much the same job.

You mean to tell me you ride around on this thing with four wheels,

two seats, a drawing board and a sunshade, but no brakes?

Why, yes.

Note to self - I quit.

That's it, I'm going to write that novel.

In Victorian times, jobs could also be very dangerous,

especially in the coal mines, and that wasn't just for the miners.

Happy birthday, Lilly.

Just what I always wanted.

My Little Pit Pony fits perfectly in the Victorian coal mine tunnel.

In fact, she fits so perfectly that she can't even turn around.

But she doesn't know,

she's got a big leather hat on that only let's her see straight ahead.

# My Little Pit Pony. #

Careful, Lilly, you don't want your My Little Pit Pony

to get hurt in a rock fall or an explosion in the mine.

Don't be silly, Mummy, that's just what happens to pit ponies.

My Little Pit Pony comes in all colours - black,

grey and blacky grey.

Mummy, can I have a pink one?

Well, that IS a pink one, underneath all the coaly muck.

My Little Pit Pony mine tunnel is sold separately

and comes with channels in the floor for My Little Pit Pony's feet

and a groove in the ceiling for My Little Pit Pony's head.

I love you, My Little Pit Pony.

Buy now, while ponies last.

In ancient Egypt,

we took great care in preparing the dead for their journey to the

afterlife, so there was a lot to do when organising a funeral.

This week on Don't Tell The Corpse, we meet Fadil, who's been

given the challenge of planning the funeral of his wife's relative.

But does she think he'll be able to pull it off?

I do hope Fadil thinks of everything for my

Uncle Amon's journey into the afterlife.

But he didn't like me uncle much.

Actually, if I'm honest, nobody liked him.

With no previous experience of organising funerals,

Fadil has enlisted the help of ancient Egyptian

funeral planner, Tutmos.

And if it's mummification you're after,

we've processes to suit everybody.

At the top end, you can have the deceased's intestines

removed by a professional embalmer.

At the bottom end, so to speak, we can dissolve their guts,

with the injection of Cedar oil, you know, right up the...

Yeah, thank you, I'd worked that out already.

I think we'll go with the professional embalmer.

Excellent choice. Sorry.

I don't know why I'm saying sorry, he's dead.

Fadil has nearly blown all his budget on embalming alone

and there's still loads to sort out.

Oh, no, Uncle Amon. I cannot believe it.

There, there, love, don't... Don't cry.

It's going to be all right.

That'll do, Beset.

-Huh?

-She's one of our professional mourners.

You can hire them for the funeral.

Uncle Amon, bring him back.

Well, she certainly is very convincing.

Our professional mourners can make even the most

loathsome individuals seem popular.

-I'll take half a dozen.

-Good choice.

With the congregation hired, Fadil must now buy items

to put in Uncle Amon's tomb for his journey to the afterlife.

Now, what do you get for the corpse who's got everything?

I bet he hasn't got one of these.

He wasn't a child. She'll kill me if I buy him a toy.

This is no toy.

This is the very latest in underworld transport.

In the afterlife, it turns into a full-sized boat

and these model slaves become real slaves, to do the hard work for you.

Wow! I'll take it. Right, that's that sorted.

And the journey is a long one, he'll be needing some food.

This mummified meat comes in its own coffin.

Oh, all right, but that's definitely it.

Wax hair gel. Especially made for mummies.

The afterlife is forever, you want your uncle to look his best.

I didn't like him that much, but...

Mummified cat, they're very popular. Ushabti dolls.

Musical instruments, magical bricks.

Finally, it's the day of the funeral.

But will Fadil's wife approve of his choices?

And will her unpopular uncle get the send-off he deserves?

Wow, Fadil, you've actually done a great job.

To think I thought Uncle Amon was really unpopular.

This is his burial chamber.

Uncle Amon had a massive, ornate burial tomb

made for himself over there. We're going the wrong way.

Oh, no, there's been a slight change of plan.

You see, I rather like the look of Uncle Amon's tomb,

so I thought we'd move him to this smaller underground hole

and then we can have his one when we die.

Uncle Amon!

If we steal his tomb, won't all his friends be furious?

Oh, no, no, that's not a problem. No, watch this!

OK, thanks very much, everyone, you can go now.

All the best.

Right, I see. Well, in that case, let's bung him in the hole!

Much of what we know about the ancient Egyptians

comes from their tombs and temples

and from the complicated hieroglyphic writing on the walls.

Hieroglabble,

it's the great new hieroglyph-based word game for all the family.

-Your go.

-I can't go.

-Why not?

-I can't read hieroglyphs.

Me, neither and neither can virtually anyone else in ancient Egypt.

Hieroglabble, it's the great new ancient Egyptian word game

for virtually no-one except the priesthood,

because they're the only people who can understand hieroglyphs.

Your go.

Oh, owl, lion, basket, horned viper. 24 points, please.

You can't just go chucking any picture down,

just because it sounds like a word!

Have you not read the rules?

Warning, hieroglyph combinations will take years to learn.

I've done nothing but learn hieroglyphics

since the age of five and I end up playing with you.

You're a waste of time. Shove off.

And coming soon - new Advanced Hieroglabble,

with all the glyphs from the later Greco-Roman period,

meaning you can play with around 5,000 different tiles.

We're going to need a bigger board.

Hieroglabble, the new game from Nile Valley that almost no-one can play.

# Stupid deaths, stupid deaths They're funny, cos they're true

# Woo, stupid deaths, stupid deaths Hope next time it's not you! #

Ha hee.

Your brain was removed through your nose. Hmm.

Certainly explains a lot. Next!

And you are?

Pliny the Elder - Roman Military Commander, author,

philosopher and naturalist.

I am greatly interested in natural and geographic phenomenon, so much

so that I've actually written my own scroll - Naturalis Historia.

No book plugs on my show.

-Available in all good scroll shops.

-Hey, now!

Anyway, I was in charge of a Roman fleet based near the volcano,

Mount Vesuvius.

Erg! Isn't Mount Vesuvius the volcano that erupted

and destroyed the Roman city of Pompeii?

-The very same.

-He shoots, he scores a goal!

I felt the tremors from the volcano and I took my fleet to investigate.

We were greeted by the most

spectacular sight of the volcano erupting.

Have you ever seen one?

No. But, erm, mummy here does have a bit of a temper.

-What?

-Well, it is absolutely breathtaking.

I ordered my galley to evacuate the locals,

when I received a message from a friend of mine asking to be rescued.

So, I took a smaller, faster vessel, in order to try to reach

the shore as quickly as possible.

-Uh-huh.

-Cinders and pumice began to rain down upon us, so much so that

my helmsman feared for our safety and advised us to turn around.

To which I said, "Fortune favours the brave."

Oh! I know that saying. Now who was it that said it?

Me. I said it.

Egh! You, you said it. I knew that, I did. Shh.

Once we were ashore, the wind became so strong that we couldn't leave.

And I died of toxic poisoning from the volcano fumes.

A-ha-ha-ha!

"Fortune favours the brave"? Volcanoes favour the cowardly, mate.

Well, yes, they do.

Pliny the Elder? Pliny the Plonker more like.

Oh, I'm on fire today. No offence.

You're through to the afterlife.

I'll just leave this here. It's a copy of my scroll -

Naturalist Historia.

Thanks, mate.

Now, get out, before I change my mind.

-All right, I'm running.

-Run faster.

Honestly, I don't think you're the only one who's had

their brain removed.

Him, him, I was talking about him. Next!

# Stupid deaths, stupid deaths Hope next time it's not you. #

Hoo, hoo.

The answer is, A. They didn't stand a chance.

Real Roman gladiators were highly trained and very valuable.

Argh, argh.

Calm it down, Maximus. You calm it down.

-Good morning.

-Morning.

-Simple challenge this week. I gave you

a highly-trained gladiator and all you lot

had to do was to use him to make as much money as possible.

So, what was your strategy, Team Maximus?

-Well, Lord Sugar, what we...

-Emperor Sugar. I like the sound of it.

Well, Emperor Sugar, knowing how valuable a trained gladiator is,

we made sure that Maximus fought untrained and unarmed slaves.

Good plan, minimise the risk of serious injury.

As soon as he gained a reputation for chopping people up,

we let him fight trained gladiators, but we made sure

that the wounds they inflicted on Maximus, here, were not lethal.

That way, we could spill plenty of blood,

but Maximus here lived to fight another day.

So, basically, Karen, your team fixed their fights?

-In a way, yes.

-Disgraceful. I like your style.

Well, Maximus' reputation now guarantees sell-out crowds

wherever he fights, and they've also got him

to do some rather lucrative product endorsements.

-Have a look at this.

-Oh, right, yeah.

I am Maximus Decimus Meridius, Commander of the armies

of the north, father to a murdered son, husband to a murdered wife,

and I will only ever wash with Jupiter's Olive Oil.

Hmm, so smooth.

No, I like it. Right, you lot, what did you do with your gladiator?

Our strategy was, let's think big, huh?

Yeah, we wanted to put on a real spectacle for the crowds,

man versus beast.

So, our gladiator versus a tiger.

-Yeah, and how did that work out for you?

-We sold out the arena, Sir.

And what happened to the gladiator?

Oh, he's right here.

Well, what's left of him, anyway.

Are you having a giraffe?

Can I just say that man versus beast was actually his idea?

Yeah, I didn't mean a tiger, did I? I meant like a badger or something.

-You never said badger.

-Well, you should have...

All right, all right, shut it, all right?

The only person I want to hear talking right now is me.

I like the sound of me own voice. So, let me get this straight,

you took a very expensive gladiator and got him

killed in his first arena fight?

-Not only that, but they also failed to sell his blood.

-You what?

Gladiator blood is a well-known Roman medicine, thought to

cure epilepsy, and they could have sold it for a tidy profit.

Team Maximus, on the other hand,

have been bottling their gladiator's sweat.

-Romans believed it made you young and powerful?

-You should try some.

Do I look like I need any of that stuff?

You should give some to Nick, he needs it.

I've heard enough, Team Maximus you've created

a hugely profitable one-man industry, whereas Team Minimus here,

all you've got left is a dead gladiator and a tiger with

the runs. It doesn't take a genius to work out what I'm going to say.

Team Minimus.

You're fired. Team Maximus, congratulations,

you've got yourself two ringside seats to the next Gladiator Games,

where you'll get to see Maximus here decimate these two idiots.

-Ergh.

-In fact, do you know what? Let's just do it now.

Maximus, get them.

Oh, it's exciting.

-I love a blood sport, don't you Karen?

-Absolutely.

It's true! Roman Gladiators were very famous

and were often used to advertise products.

In many ways, Gladiators were the footballers of their day.

Although, they'd only roll about on the floor screaming

if they'd had their leg ripped off by a tiger.

In Georgian times, our jails were

so overcrowded we decided to ship the smelly convicts far, far away.

But setting up a colony in Australia -

that turned out to be rather hard work.

As you know, Finch, when we landed our ships, we only carry enough food

to provide for us until we can start to farm the land. How's that going?

Not good, Sir, and we really should

have bought more skilled farmers and livestock.

We've got to sort this out, man.

Without food supplies, more people are going to die.

Hmm.

My point exactly.

Well, I suppose no-one said setting up Australia's first ever

British Colony was going to be easy.

Still, I'm sure the second fleet will show up any day now,

stuffed to the gunnels with supplies. Nom, nom, nom.

-Governor Philip?

-Yes.

-Captain Hill, second fleet.

BOTH: Boy, am I glad to see you.

BOTH: I'm afraid conditions are rather dire.

BOTH: Well, we've had it worse. We've lost half our people to disease.

BOTH: What? You, too?

BOTH: Then there's the lice and the starvation.

BOTH: But we thought you'd be our salvation. Us?

BOTH: No, we thought you would. Well, what are we going to do?

I guess we'll just have to wait for the third fleet.

I was just going to say that. How weird.

Yeah.

The long journey to Australia was tough going

and conditions on board ship were disgusting.

So, the rats must have loved it! Ha-ha-ha-ha!

And things got even worse when you arrived.

Oh, yes, in Georgian times, you really

wouldn't want to go Down Under.

# In Britain's Georgian times There were so many crimes

# No time to hang each crook guilty of a felony

# Cos there's no room to jail you They'd send you to Australia

# To live in our new-fangled penal colony

# Think that sounds like heaven?

# In 1787, it wasn't that kind of "once in a lifetime" trip

# First fleet took the journey Months at sea so churny

# Over 40 died while they were on the ship

# Those that lived were plucky Plucky, plucky, plucky

# Crammed on board with rats and vermin, cockroaches in bed

# Stench inside was sicky Yucky, yucky, icky

# Lice not very nice, can't get them out of my head

# Landed Bay of Botany Convicts' life was rotteny

# Needed food and shelter but everything failed

# Trees too strong for felling

# Stagnant water smelling

# A real step back in time in New South Wales

# Soil too poor for budding Huts washed up by flooding

# Plans for building houses came to sticky ends

# The best of all their labours Attacked by local neighbours

# And that is when your neighbours don't become good friends

# Situation tricky Tricky, tricky, tricky

# Then a second fleet of ships was due aground

# Some thought this was lucky But illness had strucky

# Half were dead or ill Fever was spinning around

# After seven years Convict record clears

# Just one catch You got to pay your own way back.

# No wages meant no money No choice, but what's funny

# Many stayed, became farmers and made a stack

# Original arrivers Proved hardy survivors

# Sydney turned into a place you'd choose to go

# Think that they'd be fairer To convicts who were sent there?

# No way - they built prisons even more remote

# Port Arthur was one of the jails Where every escape attempt fails

# Was one man who nearly got through Billy Hunt dressed as a kangaroo

# Inmate's life still sucky Sucky, sucky, sucky

# Life behind bars was not very nice

# Hideous and messy Who would ever guessy

# This hellhole would become a... #

Holiday paradise?

Back from Munich. Very nice currywurst.

Oh, and good meeting with Hitler.

I think it's 'peace for our time'.

Just send that.

Oh, responses already. "Well done".

"Wonderful news".

Hmm, Winston Churchill.

I bet he wants to congratulate me, as well.

Have you taken leave of your senses?

Hello. I think you'll find I've just averted another world war.

Hitler has signed this piece of paper saying that if we let him have

the Sudetenland, he promises not to expand into any other countries.

You can't trust Adolf Hitler. He's already forced Austria

to unify with Germany, plus he has a ridiculous moustache.

Hitler says no-one wants another world war, not even Germany.

I mean, they lost the first one.

And it's not as if it's best of three, is it?

Appeasement is the right choice.

War is the right choice.

Hitler is planning an invasion, mark my words.

Whatever.

Oh, what's this?

Invasion advisor review of Czechoslovakia by A.Hitler33.

Slightly worrying.

"Delighted we chose to invade this beautiful

"and politically unstable country.

"Definitely worth invading, if you're in the area."

Oh! No need to panic, Neville,

a lot of these invasion advisor reviews are fake.

Still, better just check who's on our side, just in case.

Good, good.

What?! Nazi Germany has allied itself with fascist Italy?

Oh, no, better make some more allies quick.

Ah! Poland, perfect. We'll agree to protect them.

Maybe in the future they'll repay us with reasonably-priced builders.

Oh, not again.

Do... Don't say it.

-Told you so.

-Look, I'm strengthening our alliances.

I've already got Poland. I'm waiting for Russia to, er...

What? "We're not getting involved."

-Oh, dear.

-What's the problem with that?

Well, it means that Germany doesn't have to defend its Russian border.

They can throw all of their troops in our direction.

What are you doing?

Erm, nothing, nothing, look, Hitler promised.

There's no way he's going to...

Invade our new ally Poland?

By golly, this fellow's so hard not to declare war against.

You were given the choice between war and dishonour.

You chose dishonour and you will have war.

I think I preferred, "I told you so".

Ah, war.

"Are you sure?" Yes.

"Are you sure you're sure?" Yes.

What you need now is a canny politician.

One who was in the War Cabinet during the First World War

and has the top score on Minesweeper in the Foreign Office.

-Me!

-OK, Winston, I'll make you First Lord of the Admiralty.

I thought you'd never ask.

Budge up. Oh!

It's the latest House of Commons opinion poll.

Do you still support Chamberlain?

Oh. Do you want to be Prime Minister, then?

Yes, please.

You still here?

And fetch me a cigar. In fact, make it two.

Oh, I like it. Might come in useful one day.

Churchill may have been one of Britain's best wartime leaders,

but he was also very witty.

Take a look at some of his funniest jokes.

At ease.

'Out now on DVD, it's Britain's Wittiest Man.'

'It's Prime Minister Winston Churchill.'

'Yes, really.'

A prisoner of war is a man who tries to kill you and fails

and then asks you not to kill him.

'Britain's wartime genius is also a comedy genius.'

Eating my own words has never given me indigestion.

'Featuring all the legendary quips of the'

'original master of the one liner.'

I'm just preparing my impromptu remarks.

'Enjoy the King Of The Put Down in action!'

My baby looks like you.

All babies look like me.

Sir, you are drunk.

Madam, you are ugly. In the morning, I shall be sober.

Get off, you're rubbish.

Stop interrupting me while I'm interrupting you.

I'm here all week, then I'm in my bunker.

'Yes, it's Britain's favourite sit down stand-up.'

Why stand when you can sit?

'Out now, priced 2 shillings and sixpence and two rationing coupons.'

When the Normans conquered England, let's just say

they didn't always see eye to eye with the locals.

I'm out of here, argh!

Welcome to Great Historical Country Walks.

Today, we'll be taking a gentle stroll through

the Northern English countryside of 1070 -

a period made famous for the Harrowing of the North -

a lovely-sounding thing, which I imagine

has something to do with farming.

Just look at the beautiful, rolling hills,

the lush, green pastures and just around the corner,

the picturesque medieval Yorkshire village...

I think we might have taken a wrong turn.

Erm, left at the tree, right at the river.

No, this seems to be the right place. It's just strange.

There's supposed to be a village of 200 people here.

Erm, let's just go and ask this local.

Excuse me, I'm looking for Winthorpe.

The Normans, they killed everybody. Destroyed the village.

Oh, dear me, erm... We'd best press on to York.

Could you point that out to me, please?

Right, so York is over there, by that massive bonfire.

Actually, I think York IS that massive bonfire.

-Argh, the Normans are coming!

-They've destroyed the town!

-They're killing everyone.

-They're completely harrowing the place.

Argh!

So, that's what harrowing means.

Erm, that's all from Great Historical Country Walks.

Time for Great Historical Country Runs.

When Northern earls rebelled against William the Conqueror,

he took his revenge.

He destroyed much of the North

and was responsible for the deaths of over 100,000 people.

It was called The Harrowing of the North.

The ground was also sown with salt so nothing would grow,

which was called The Harrowing of the Slugs.

Ha-ha-ha!

No wonder Saxons were desperate to fit in with their new Norman rulers.

Well, this is, erm, tres pleasant.

This is fabulous food.

Erm, any chance you could pass the cow?

Oh, non, non, non. Cows are dirty things with udders.

What we're eating here is boeuf. Isn't that right, Cheri?

-Whatever.

-Any chance you could pass the boeuf?

Bravo.

-Thank you, Mary.

-Oh, Marie.

Oh, OK.

Is there any more of the pig?

Oh, really, Lawrence, zut alors!

Do please excuse my husband's Anglo Saxon. It's pork.

-Since when?

-Since 1066, when William the Conqueror invaded England

and we educated people, started talking French, or rather,

slipping the odd word, or should I say, mot, in here and there,

just to show we're not complete peasants.

Or churls, as Lawrence still insists on calling them.

Well, we both think it's a fabulous idea to, erm,

impresse the new Francais, don't we, Jerry?

Oh, yes, we certainly do.

Any chance you could pass the mouton?

Bravo encore.

That's the sheep.

Do you always have to embarrasse me?

-You what?

-It's pardon.

Does anyone else need a drink?

Oh, could you not at least try and say beverage?

No, I couldn't, Mary, because I'm an Anglo Saxon.

I eat food, not dinner.

And I hunt, I don't chase.

And when I break wind.

HE FARTS

-Oh!

-It makes a smell, not an odour.

-Oh, Lawrence.

-Well, listen, I think we'd best beat the traffic, erm...

Oh, no, oh, please don't departe.

But you haven't had any pudding, I mean, dessert!

Oh, well, thanks a lot!

Mon pleasure, Cheri.

# Tall tales, atrocious acts We gave you all the fearsome facts. #

Can't get enough of Horrible Histories?

Then go to the CBBC website and click on the link.

See you there.

# The past is no longer a mystery

# Hope you enjoyed... #

Horrible Histories.