The Grisly Great Fire of London 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. #

Horrible Histories presents The Grisly Great Fire of London.

Welcome to the year 1665.

England has shaken off Oliver Cromwell's puritan rule

and life is fun again.

Happy days! So why not come pay us a visit?

Hi, I'm Vernon Cheesemouth.

Thought England was all church and no fun?

-Mm-hm.

-Well, think again.

Welcome to the Restoration.

Yes! Oliver Cromwell's Commonwealth is over!

And the restoration of the monarchy

means there's a king on the throne again.

Yes, I'm King Charles II, so, hurrah for me!

And once again, England is a fun place to visit,

with definitely no mass outbreaks of the deadly plague.

Because... PILGRIM COUGHS AND SPLUTTERS

He's probably just having a lie down.

Also back, the theatre.

Yes! Theatre was banned under

boring old Cromwell, but it's back,

and now with added women.

Where's Gary? He's meant to be playing my wife.

We don't need Gary, love.

In Restoration theatre, the women can be played by women.

Oh, I don't feel well.

I think I've got the pla...

Play wrong, he thinks he's got the play wrong!

It's all fun in Restoration England.

Which includes the return of proper sport.

I believe in you.

Your mum believes in you.

The whole of London believes in you,

so go out there and give them hell!

HE COUGHS

And don't forget, the Restoration also has the plague!

I mean, has no plague!

COCKEREL CLUCKS Ooh!

Visit England,

enjoy our restoration of fun.

HE LAUGHS, THEN COUGHS

Oh, no! I think I've got...

Too excited.

He thinks that he's got too excited

by his awesome visit to Restoration England.

SHE COUGHS

Oh, rats!

Not that they're a problem!

CONTINUES COUGHING

Oi! Don't you go blaming me for the plague, it was the gerbils.

OK, fine. We rats might have had something to do with it.

HE SNEEZES

Ugh! It's just a cold, honest.

Now, by the end of 1665, the plague was disappearing,

and people could look forward to a bright and happy future.

Well, some of them, anyway.

THEY CHATTER

GLASS TINKLES

Ssh!

Stop tapping that... Oh, it's me.

Um, ladies and gentlemen, the New Year is almost upon us.

What better way to celebrate than with friends?

Hear, hear.

My brother, the Duke of York.

To the King and the Pope.

I mean, just the King.

I'm definitely not a Catholic.

And to our friend from the Royal Society, Christopher Wren,

pushing back the frontiers of science.

Today, my assistant glued an ant to the table and got him drunk.

THEY LAUGH

Imagine! Imagine!

Sir Thomas Bludworth, my most loyal and trustworthy supporter.

Thank you for making me Lord Mayor of London, Charlie.

It's such a cushy job.

Samuel Pepys. My friend and administrator.

Pepys, put down the diary while I'm talking.

"Put down the diary when I'm talking," said the King

to the handsome diarist.

And finally, the darling of the London stage, Margaret Hughes.

Wonderful to spend New Year with you all, darling.

My word, lad, you're a handsome chap!

How do you achieve that effect?

Ha-ha! Ooh, Christopher!

Well, 1665 was a wretched year.

-The plague!

-Awful business.

Do you know how hard it is to get a decent servant these days?

A live one, anyway.

Well, it's nearly midnight and, bye-bye, 1665 and say hello now

to the New Year, 16...

60...

-Six.

-Six, thank you.

Three, two, one...

-CLOCK CHIMES ALL:

-Happy New Year!

Things can't get any worse.

-ALL:

-Things can't get any worse.

We interrupt with some breaking news.

It's 1666 and a fire has broken out on the streets of London.

We go live to our reporter Katie Woe.

I've covered kings, queens, wars and volcanoes,

but today I'm covering a small fire in Pudding Lane, East London.

Excuse me? Katie Woe, HHTV News. Where are you all going?

We are at war with Holland and this fire is the start of a Dutch attack!

Or just a fire which you could put out?

-But I've got to throw my furniture in the Thames, quick.

-Why?

To stop it getting ruined by the fire.

-By ruining it in a wholly different way?

-Exactly.

The fire is spreading quite quickly,

as are the rumours that it was started by Dutch spies.

Spies. It's the Dutch spies, I'm telling you!

-Fire!

-It wasn't Dutch spies, it was a terrible accident.

Hot coals in the bakery oven, accidentally left burning overnight.

A bakery oven? And your name is?

Thomas Farriner, baker to the King.

Oh, you're a baker?

And how do you know it was started in a bakery?

Um... Well, you know, I'd rather not say.

In fact, come to think of it, it was the foreigners.

Yeah, foreigners, coming over here with their fire.

It had nothing to do with me. I was asleep when my fire started.

Not my fire...the fire. These aren't even my cakes.

Excuse me, I've just got...

It sounds like there's a bit of mystery as to how this now

quite large fire started.

-I know why.

-Yes, old crone?

It was because of that Polish chicken what laid an egg

with a cross on it.

-Excuse me?

-Beware the egg!

Beware the egg!

-Beware the egg!

-Or, beware the fire.

This is turning into a disaster,

and a cracking story.

Join us later for more on this great fire of London.

Oh, that's catchy. Can we use that?

PHONE RINGS

Oh, Deborah.

Why would you be calling me at four in the morning?

Your wife told me to, Mr Pepys.

Oh.

There's a big fire, sir. 300 houses have gone up already.

Cripes! Yes, I did think it was

a bit on the muggy side.

Right. This is an emergency and I must act immediately.

I must rescue my Parmesan cheese.

Right, probably best to sell you,

get you out of here.

Don't want you melting in the fire.

PING!

Right. OK.

Probably should tell the King,

what with being a top public servant and all.

PHONE RINGS

Ugh! Pepys, it's four in the morning.

Yes, I'm sorry about waking you, Your Majesty.

Wake me? No, I haven't been to bed yet.

Party! Woohoo! DISTANT CHEERING

-Yes!

-Cool.

London is burning, Your Majesty. London is burning.

Oh, all right, yeah, fair play.

Um, contact Lord Mayor Bludworth, he'll get right onto it, right?

-Bludworth, there's a fire.

-I know.

I wouldn't worry about it, it's so small, a woman might pee it out!

Leave me alone. I'm logging off till morning.

Useless man!

-Your Majesty.

-Shh, shh, shh!

Bludworth doesn't seem to be entirely grasping the severity

of the situation, Your Majesty.

Oh, probably drunk.

Yeah, yeah.

I can always rely on you in a crisis, Pepysy boy.

Yes, Your Majesty. Would you mind, by any chance,

bidding up a cheese on eBay for me?

-What?!

-It doesn't matter.

-PARTY BLOWER TOOTS

-Party on.

Hello, Samuel Pepys here.

Now, before the fire, I stayed with a friend,

and I needed the toilet in the night, but there was no potty

under my bed, so where did I poo instead?

Was it A, into my hat,

B, out of the window,

or C, in the chimney?

The answer is C, I pooed twice in that chimney.

I pooed in it good!

My friend couldn't use it for weeks and I was never invited back.

It's also how I got my nickname, Samuel Poops.

Just joking, nobody calls me Samuel Poops.

Does he?

He's always undermining me.

When danger threatens...

a city in flames

turns to one man.

Sir Thomas Bludworth, Lord Mayor of London, will do...

HE SNORES

..absolutely nothing.

-Lord Mayor, wake up!

-Uh, oh! What?

-Where's the fire?

-Since you ask, it's there.

Argh! It's massive.

-Why did nobody tell me?

-We did tell you, sir.

You went back to sleep.

Good idea.

Sir Thomas Bludworth -

he's a knight, he's a mayor, he's a total...

And featuring Samuel Pepis...

Pepys. It's Pepys.

Samuel Pepys.

I must say, I'm impressed by your energy, but how is this helping?

I don't know what to do! I don't know what to do!

Start pulling down houses, Bludworth, it'll stop the fire

from spreading.

That's brilliant, let's do that.

Of course, whoever gives the order

will have to pay to rebuild the houses.

I've got a better idea, you give the order.

-But that's your job.

-La, la, la, la!

This year's greatest inaction movie.

Maybe if I hide, it will go away.

Maybe it's all just a bad dream.

It's not the nightmare.

He is!

It's day two of the fire and the flames that wiped out warehouses

containing hay, alcohol, candles and coal.

Perhaps storing such highly flammable materials next to

each other on the same street wasn't such a good idea.

If I can now call in the King's own brother, the Duke of York.

Hello.

Your Highness, your wig is smoking.

Oh, thank you very much. I'm rather partial to it myself.

HE SNIFFS Oh...

So, Duke of, what's the latest?

Well, 10,000 houses are burning, thousands of people are missing

and the heat is so intense,

there's molten lead running down the streets, but no fear,

I'm on top of it.

Well, not literally on top of it, like that poor fellow!

Hot! Hot! Hot!

Try wearing two pairs of socks, old chap.

He'll probably die.

Now, this is the kind of situation that calls for the fire brigade.

But the trouble is, London doesn't have a fire brigade.

So I have been paying random people to fight the fire.

When people refuse to help, I beat them up.

See? Get back to work.

Slacker!

Main problem now is the fire is headed towards the Tower of London.

So thousands have lost their homes,

but you are more worried about the Tower of London?

It's where we keep the gunpowder.

We'll have to pull down the houses to protect it.

Oh, and what if you live in those houses?

Pfftt!

The Great Fire sent people and rats scurrying out of London.

Hey, how about a trip to the Caribbean,

where some Brits were already enjoying themselves?

I'm warming up just thinking about it.

Getting all warm and...

Uh? Eh? What?

Ooh, me tail's on fire!

Me tail's on fire!

Say your prayers, ye scurvy dog!

-Never, you mangy cove.

-How dare you, you maggot...

Hang on.

Rupert?

-No! Henry, isn't it?

-Yeah.

-We fought together for King Charles, back home in England.

-Yes.

-BOTH:

-# Charlie's Army, here we come

# Kick those others up the

# Battle of Naseby! #

THEY LAUGH Still funny.

Aaargh!

Aaargh!

-Oh, the Civil War, eh?

-Oh, yeah.

-There was nothing civil about that, was there?

-Not really, no.

What are you up to these days?

Silly question - pirate, I suppose.

Privateer, if you don't mind.

Yes, got to earn a living. Mum cut me off.

So I'm just stealing Spanish things

and getting paid by the Government to do it, which is nice.

Oh, you been to Mexico?

-No.

-Oh, you have to go to Mexico.

It's totally unspoiled. It's lovely.

Should probably get over there and spoil it then.

Aaargh!

Splice the main brace, me hearties!

Pieces of eight and a dead man's chest.

Now, what is the main brace?

I have no idea, but the chaps seem awfully keen on splicing it.

You are looking really trim, by the way.

You've been working out?

Pir-ates.

I'll have your guts for garters, you bilge rat!

I'll make shark bait of you! Yo, ho, ho!

-Ooh!

-Ow! Ow.

-Sorry.

-That really hurt, Rupert.

Welcome to The Great Fire Bake Off.

Our bakers are primed and ready

and we've asked them to create their signature bake.

-BOTH:

-Ready, steady, bake!

It's... It's just, I thought I was doing it.

-Ready, steady, bake!

-Bake.

-Ha!

It's time to see how our contestants have got on.

First up, let's meet Thomas Farriner,

from Pudding Lane in London.

Hi, Thomas. So, you're, of course, famous for being...

Being personal baker to the King.

And starting the Great Fire of London.

Great Fire of London.

We're going to dwell on that, are we?

Not the years of relatively fire-free baking that happened

before that?

So, anyway, what I'm doing here is I'm kneading the dough...

So, about the fire.

I hear it started in your bakery on Pudding Lane?

That is totally irre...

Why are you holding a fire extinguisher?

This? Oh, no, I always have this with me.

If there's massive risk of fire.

-So, Pudding Lane. Good place for a bakery.

-Yes.

Although, of course, pudding is a medieval word meaning animal guts.

Mmm! How's that biscuit?

You're miles away from the flavour point, mate.

Actually, I rather like it.

Next up, it's writer Hannah Woolley from Essex.

Now, this looks interesting.

Oh, yeah. Well, when I'm not baking, I like writing.

My latest book is called The Gentlewoman's Companion,

or A Guide To The Female Sex.

Stop gobbling, Paul!

That's in the book.

"Fill up your mouth not so full that your cheeks swell up

"like a pair of Scotch bagpipes."

She's doing jokes.

She supposed to be a contestant, not a presenter.

Now, Hannah, tell us about your recipes.

Are they in the book?

Oh, yeah, they are, along with the suggestion

that you keep your elbows off the table, Paul!

Hi, guys. Here's my signature bake.

Overbaked, buddy.

Well, your opinion.

Now, I'm afraid it's that time of the show where we have to announce

that the person leaving us this week...

Well, I should hope it's him.

Is...

Oh, don't do the dramatic pause, it's obviously me.

Yes, it is. For burning down London, Thomas, it's you.

Sorry.

Yeah. Shouldn't be allowed anywhere near fire, buddy.

It was one ti...

Two times.

Does that mean I'm Star Baker? Hooray!

Stop slouching, Paul!

You join me in the wreckage of London,

where after four days, the fire is finally out.

But not before destroying 80% of the city,

including 13,000 houses and 89 churches.

The official death toll stands at just six people.

But thousands more may have perished, we simply don't know.

Where are you? Where are you?

This poor man has clearly lost a loved one.

That's right. My cheese.

I've forgotten where I buried it.

Still, at least I saved my furni...

-Oh, dear.

-Have you seen my cheese?

It's about yea big, smells a bit like vomit.

Probably dressed like a cheese.

Where could that cheese have gone?

It's a complete mystery.

A completely delicious mystery.

HE CHORTLES

So, after the fire ended,

the hunt was on for the culprit who started it.

It was baker Thomas Farriner, on Pudding Lane.

But at the time they had some pretty unusual ideas about who to blame.

Right. Listen up, you 'orrible lot.

I've got a city in ruins

and the people need someone to blame.

What you got for me?

Well, we think it was a fire, sir.

Yeah, I know that, genius!

Who started it?

Hot summer, everything made of wood.

It's been a bit windy. I'm amazed it didn't happen any earlier.

I've got a town full of dead people who need answers,

and you want me to tell 'em it was a bit windy?

Clear your desk!

-That's not my desk, sir.

-I've got a suspect, sir.

-His name's Lilly.

-Lilly, eh?

Sounds like a tough nut.

William Lilly. Astrologer.

Predicted the fire 15 years ago.

Prior knowledge.

-Bring the toerag in.

-Yes, sir.

So, Lilly...

..like burning things, do we?

I don't know what you're talking about.

So, this...

..isn't your pamphlet?

In which you predict "Sundry fires, around 1665"?

All right, I confess.

Well, I predict a hanging.

I confess I'm a rubbish astrologer.

None of my predictions came true, I just got lucky.

Unlucky, this time.

I just love crystals.

Sir. New suspect.

He's copped to the whole thing.

Oh, Lilly.

One more question. What does November hold for Aquarius?

Oh...

This the guy, is it?

Yes, sir. Robert Hubert.

Claims he threw a grenade through the bakery window.

Bang to rights.

Just two problems.

There aren't any windows in the bakery,

and he was on a boat in the middle of the English Channel at the time

of the fire. He's clearly not all there, sir.

You muppet!

What's the evidence against him?

Well, sir, he is French.

Excellent work.

The case closed.

After the Great Fire, Londoners looked to the cleverest minds

of the age to rebuild their ruined city.

The members of the Royal Society were the top science bods around -

think Brian Cox crossed with Stephen Hawking -

and made some of history's most famous discoveries.

However, their experiments weren't always as sensible

as you might expect.

We begin with the man who discovered gravity, sir Isaac Newton.

-Good day.

-Sir Isaac, today you're organising the Royal Mint,

dissecting a dolphin,

and attending a Parliamentary debate.

-Yes, and that's not all.

-Oh, really?

This morning I shall be staring into the sun so long, I nearly go blind,

searching for hidden messages in the Bible, which I KNOW are there,

and trying to turn this worthless lead into gold.

Gold.

Gold!

Tss!

Christopher Wren, a master of medicine, astronomy and mathematics.

Christopher, can you enlighten us with your scientific method?

Of course.

On the table, we have a spider in a jar.

Fascinating, yes.

-We place the jar at an observable distance...

-Yes.

..and then we dance!

Come on, dance. Dance!

Why are we doing this?

We're teaching the spider to dance, of course.

Sir Isaac, stop it.

No.

Robert Boyle, a brilliant scientist and member of the Royal Society.

Mr Boyle, what is the object of the complex canine surgical procedure

in which you are engaged today? Tell me.

Well, I heard about this from a fellow in France.

As you can see, I've sedated this dog

and made an incision.

Now, if you would insert your hand,

and give it a gentle squeeze.

I shall.

And you made it do a wee! Brilliant!

Of course, this experiment helps you

to learn about the anatomical processes.

Yes, and we made a wee come out!

-Now I've got wee-wee trousers.

-Yes, you do.

-Move aside!

It's not wee, it's gold, liquid gold.

-Whop it.

-So many legs! Ha-ha!

You're all supposed to be dignified scientists!

Now, rebuilding a house from scratch can be a real challenge.

What about rebuilding an entire city?

Welcome to a very special edition of Historical Grand Designs.

This is the architect, Christopher Wren

and the surveyor, Robert Hooke.

Couldn't this have waited? The ground is still hot. Ooh!

I told you not to touch, Bobby.

Honestly!

Prune!

Here, amongst the charred ruins of smouldering London,

Wren sees a chance for a long cherished dream to become a reality.

The Great Fire is a fantastic opportunity.

And a dreadful tragedy.

Hm? Oh, yes.

Yes, awful.

But we get a chance to redesign London from scratch.

I'm so excited!

And sad about all the dead people, of course.

THEY CHATTER

Sorry, guys. Can I interrupt? Can we just get one thing straight?

You plan to replace medieval London with a modern city.

-Are you sure it's achievable?

-Yeah, I reckon.

Plus, it's the new cathedral I really want to do.

And get this, I'm going to build a dome instead of a spire.

But a spire is a lot easier to build than a dome.

-Yes, but where's the fun in easy, Kelvin?

-Kevin.

I couldn't be happier.

-Or sadder.

-Yes, sad. Very sad.

So, here we are, Christopher, six years on.

And I see some progress has been made, but there isn't much

in the way of a cathedral yet, is there?

-Are we a bit behind schedule?

-I've been busy, Kelvin.

We've built 51 churches, repaired Whitehall Palace,

rebuilt Guildhall and the Fleet Canal.

-Plus, there was rather a long wait for the skip.

-Right.

But, on the positive side,

the cathedral should be finished in six months. Nearly there.

-Do you want a hand with that?

-Leave him, leave him.

Christopher, you're on your fourth design.

Are you nearly finished?

To be honest, a spire would have been quite a lot easier than a dome.

I wish somebody had said something.

-I did say something.

-What?

-Nothing.

Now, when I first heard Christopher's plan,

I thought it was overambitious, unrealistic,

frankly, a bit bonkers.

But there's no denying this magnificent cathedral behind...

..on paper, is bound to be admired for generations to come.

It's just such a shame it was born from such a tragedy.

What tragedy? What, the fire?

Oh, let it go! That was 35 years ago!

Most of them would have snuffed it by now anyway!

Move on!

I mean, boo-hoo.

Don't worry, Wren did finish it. Well, eventually.

And St Paul's Cathedral still survives to this day.

Top job, Christopher!

The Great Fire was one of the worst tragedies in the history of London,

but people like Wren, Hooke, Boyle and Pepys would make sure

that the new city would be even more amazing than before.

And that's why me and my thousands of cousins have moved right back in.

And, lights!

ACOUSTIC GUITAR PLAYS

# At first you looked so beautiful

# When you flew out of Farriner's shop, yeah

# You set our world on fire, babe, but you didn't know when to stop

-BOTH:

-# Thought you could destroy us with your flaming attack

# But there's only one direction and now we're heading back

ALL: # We're starting over again

# Gonna build this town back up from the ground

# With my buddy Christopher Wren

# Well, if it be fiery

# I'll put that in my diary

# And build this town again

# Gonna fix this town by hook or crook

# My name is Robert Hooke

# Make it good

# I've got reams of schemes and rebuilding dreams

# How about avoid using wood?

-ALL:

-# We're working as a team to rebuild London entire

# Together we get on like a house on fi...

# We're starting over again

# Rising from the embers

# Our talent you'll remember

# With Boyle, Hooke and Wren

# London we'll renew, but won't stop me when we're through

# We'll build the future again

# In science we will trust

# Rebuild these walls

# I'll even redesign the organ at St Paul's

# We're starting over again

# We'll change London first Next, the universe

# These days will be known for when

# What we achieved

# The world would never be ever the same again. #

Sorry, sorry.

You know what?

Just leave it.

Ah-ha!

Got me worried now because...

Yeah, actually,

I'm going to... Pack it in!

# The past is no longer a mystery

# Hope you enjoyed

# Horrible Histories. #