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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, 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. #
When King Charles I faced war in Scotland everyone was
expected to do their bit.
As we gather here today to worship, let us spare a thought
for the brave husbands and sons who also gather in preparation
to fight for King Charles against the threat of Scotland.
Let us ask ourselves, "What can we do?"
We can give them donations.
I have placed receptacles for your donations under your chairs.
The Army has asked that you donate your wee-wee.
The makers of gunpowder for our troops are desperate,
as are, hopefully some of you.
They need women's urine,
a vital ingredient in their manufacturing of saltpetre.
Just the women?
Yes, Old Tom, apparently their urine works better.
Because I really need to go.
Ah, thank you Mrs Carroll,
your son will be most proud.
A grateful nation thanks you, Mrs Buttnam.
Oh, praise be,
why a veritable waterfall of thanks
for our young men and boys.
PLOP!
That wasn't very helpful, Mrs Foster.
Sorry.
Ha-ha-ha. It's true.
In the late 1630s, wee was collected from churches to make gunpowder.
Ha-ha-ha. No, really.
Whoo - I've just weed myself.
How strangely appropriate!
I can tell you someone who wouldn't find that funny.
Puritan misery guts, Oliver Cromwell.
Truly Lady Fortune smiles on me this day.
Finally I get to paint Mr Cromwell himself.
Yeah, good luck with that.
Boss, I've got that painter for you.
An honour, sir, for which I'm simply not worthy.
DRAMATIC MUSIC
What is it? Something on my face? Breakfast?
No, sir, nothing of the wart.
THUNDEROUS MUSIC Nothing of the sort.
I've asked you here, Mr Lely,
because I have seen your portrait of the late Charles I.
- One of my finest. - I wish for mine to look nothing like that.
None of his regal fancifulness, I just want you to paint me as I am.
- Is there anything you need? - Just a glass of wart...
DRAMATIC MUSIC
..a glass of water, please.
Guard, fetch Mr Lely some water.
Now, sir, may I ask, how much would sir like to look like sir?
What do you mean, look like sir?
Well, how can I put this? I have been known in the past
to emphasise my subject's best features
and to hide their not so good ones. Thank you, you're a stal-wart.
THUNDEROUS MUSIC
Mr Lely, I just want you to paint me as I am.
- I won't stand for flattery. - Of course. But would sir prefer
if I overlooked certain minor blemishes in the facial area?
- Are you talking about the warts? - Warts? I see no warts.
These bad boys. The one that looks like my nose, only bigger,
and one that could easily be mistaken for my chin.
Oh, yes, so there are. They look like a couple of beauty spots to me.
Warts, they are warts, big old whopping warts.
- I like to call a wart a wart, Mr Lely. - If you say so, sir.
I wish you to paint me, warts and all.
So shall it be.
Wart-ever you say.
Don't push it.
Really sorry.
Did you know there really was
a Dick Whittington in the Middle Ages who was Mayor of London?
Hello. I am Sir Richard Whittington.
Four times Lord Mayor of London,
and I believe I have a very important film idea for you.
Cor, blimey, Dick Whittington.
Can I just say straight off the old cricket bat how very excited
we is to have you on this project, apples and pears, what...
- OK, go ahead, Dick, shoot. - Actually, I prefer Sir Richard.
- Whatever you say, Dick. - Sir Richard's fine with us, Dick.
It's a yes from me, Dick.
OK, right, well this is the story of my life.
- Great, who do you see playing the talking cat? - The cat thing again.
- We're thinking Eddie Murphy. - Eddie Murphy!
Listen, I get this a lot.
The panto is loosely based on me,
this is a true story of my life, a political drama.
Oh, yeah, sure, a political drama.
- With a talking cat. - For kids. - I love it.
I'm a serious politician, I've built churches, hospitals, improved
sanitation. I created the first public toilet in London.
- The thing is, your idea is poo. - It stinks. - It stinks of poo.
- This is a true story. - I can't hear him above the hum of poo.
How do you feel about Keira Knightley playing you?
- Keira Knightley! - Why would a woman play me? I'm a man!
A pooey man.
Tradition, you're always played by a woman.
My life is not like the panto.
- Can Keira sing? - Oh, we can dub it. Lady Gaga can do the songs.
- "I'm a little monster." - A musical?!
Do you know what you get if you take the first letters
of a musical comedy panto for kids with a talking cat?
- It spells H-I-T... - Hit!
Your streets paved with gold, our cinemas filled with gold.
No, no, no, I am an important figure in the history of London
and I will not stand here and watch you turn
my life story into a farce. Good day.
- Turn again, Dick Whittington. - Bong!
- Turn again, Dick Whittington. - Bong!
- Turn again, Dick Whittington, thrice Lord Mayor of London. - Bong!
I was Lord Mayor four times, not three.
- He's behind you. - BOTH: Oh, no, he isn't!
- Oh, yes, he is! Nice guy. - Super nice.
I liked him a lot.
Yes, Sir Richard Whittington really was a real guy.
But he was nothing like the pantomime hero you've heard of.
Oh, no. As mayor, he was famous for building a huge public toilet.
The streets of London had been really messy,
which explains why his Puss had to wear boots. Ha-ha-ha.
Just kidding, Sir Richard. Just kidding.
You may have heard of the Spanish Armada in 1588.
But did you know that wasn't their
only attempt to overthrow Elizabeth I?
'He was the most powerful man in the world.
'Ruler of a huge empire.'
I will invade England with the most
terrible force of battleships
ever seen.
I shall call it, "The most terrible
"force of battleships ever seen."
Or you could call it the Armada, Your Majesty.
Yes, catchy. It feels better.
'Only one man stood between Philip and his prize.'
That'll be me.
'Introducing Sir Francis Drake
'as Vice Admiral of the English navy.'
Make the fleet ready to sail.
Tell Drake this Armada must be
stopped at all costs.
'He was a man with a plan.'
We shall blow up the Spanish cork factory at Cadiz.
- Erm, why? - No cork, no barrels. No barrels, no freshwater.
No freshwater, no Armada.
- Brilliant. - I am, aren't I?
So, to cut a long story short, no cork, no Armada.
I'll be back.
- Oh, good catchphrase. - Gracias. - De nada.
Better luck next time!
'This time, it's judgement year.
'He was the most powerful man.'
Yada-yada. We know this bit. Is my Armada ready?
It is, sire.
- Do my barrels have corks? - They do, sire.
Nothing can stop us now. Oh, oh, I'm bad.
'Only one man stood between Philip and his prize.'
Oh, not him again!
Set fire to some of our ships.
Erm, why?
We sail these fire ships towards the Spanish fleet,
the Spanish will panic, cut their anchor lines and set sail.
With any luck the strong winds will destroy this Armada.
'A man with a plan. And some lucky wind.'
It is a disaster, master. We have lost more than 50 ships.
And now the good news?
Erm, it's venison for supper.
Destroyed by the weather, you say.
Ha-ha-ha, that is the funniest thing I've ever heard.
Apart from Sir Walter Raleigh's joke about the bear with the big paws!
I'll be back. I think, probably.
'This must be judgement year.'
What news of my new Armada? Has it at last been successful?
- It has caused minor damage to Mousehole. - Mousehole?
An inconsequential little village in Cornwall, yeah.
I'll be back. Maybe, it might take a while.
Stupid deaths, stupid deaths
They're funny cos they're true
Stupid deaths, stupid deaths
Hope next time it's not you, hee-hee! #
One, two, three. Hah!
Scissors beats paper. I win. One, two, three. Hah!
Scissors beats paper. I win. Oh, I'm bored now.
Why do you keep doing paper? That's not how you play it.
Oh, grow up. Next! And you are?
Thomas Curtes of Suffolk.
And is your death, by any chance, arrow-related?
Yes it is, I'm a Tudor archer, how did you know that?
Just a lucky guess. Come on then, let's be hearing you.
Well, one fine summer's evening I was out practising my archery
when I spotted a friend, by the name of Richard Lirence.
Richard is a fine archer.
So I thought it would be quite funny to give him
- a bit of a challenge, right? - Yes.
So, I yelled out to him, "Richard, I bet you can't hit my hat!"
Turns out I was right.
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha.
Fortunately, he missed your brain.
Not sure I get that.
Proving my point. You're through to the afterlife.
Oh, priceless! Next!
Whoa, hold the mustard!
We've got another contender. And you are?
Henry Pert of Nottinghamshire.
Is your death, by any chance, arrow-related?
Yes, it is, I'm a Tudor archer, how did you know?
Just a lucky guess, again. Come on then, let's hear your story.
Well, I pulled my bow back to its full extent to loose
an arrow straight into the air,
only I had pulled it back so far, the arrow got lodged in the bow,
- so I've leant over to have a look at what's going on there... - Yes?
Twang. Went in my head.
Ha-ha-ha-ha.
The Most Embarrassing Tudor Archery Death Award goes to
Henry the plonker!
- You are through to the afterlife. - Nice one, mate.
I tell you, this job just gets better and better.
I get it now, cos I haven't got a brain.
Out!
Well, there are some drawbacks.
Stupid deaths, stupid deaths
Hope next time it's not you! Hoo-hoo! #
'They're back.
'Maybe this is judgement year. Spanish Armada IV.'
I don't care what happens as long as my fleet of 140 galleons
wasn't wrecked by storms off the English coast.
It wasn't. It never got that far.
It was wrecked by storms off the Spanish coast.
- OK, that's it, we're done here. - Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha.
'Judgement. Let's face it, it's not going to be judgement year.
Storms again? I won't be back.
Hi, I'm a hot Egyptian scientist,
and welcome to Wonders Of The Egyptian Universe.
You know, we ancient Egyptians were amazing scientists.
With nothing but bits of string and wood and maths,
lovely magnificent mathematics,
we were able to construct perfectly shaped pyramids choosing
millions of stones to an accuracy of 0.05%.
Can you imagine that?
Are you imagining it? Amazing.
And, it was us Egyptians who first tracked the movements of the stars.
Using them to align our buildings in perfect symmetry with the heavens.
Perfect symmetry. Amazing.
And, it was us Egyptians who realised that the Pharaoh had to perform
a magic ceremony in the mornings, otherwise the sun wouldn't rise.
'Sorry, Brian, what was that last bit?'
Before us Egyptians, no- one had any idea that the sun
travelled across the sky by being rolled by a dung beetle.
Whoa, stop you there. A dung beetle?
A vast, giant dung beetle called Khepri.
It's ancient Egyptian scientific fact.
All right, reality check, Brian.
If this dung beetle is so massive, why can't we see it?
A giant, vast, invisible dung beetle.
OK, you were actually doing really well up until the Pharaoh
and the dung beetle, but that is just crazy.
How else is the sun going to travel across the sky,
is it just going to stand still,
while this entire massive planet revolves all by itself?!
I'm talking about ancient Egyptian scientific fact here.
Sure about that, Brian?
How else would it get to the other end of the sky
where it gets eaten by a cow goddess?
OK, I've heard enough, fellas.
No, I haven't told you about the planets.
How they're actually gods who can predict the future.
It's ancient Egyptian scientific fact. It's amazing.
And if you thought our SCIENCE was complicated,
you should try getting into Egyptian heaven which involved a very
tricky journey through the underworld, known as the Duat.
'Do you have what it takes to navigate your way through the Duat,
'and make it to ancient Egyptian heaven?'
'Survive the unforgiving terrain, making your way past rivers of fire,
'and boiling lakes.'
This might take a while.
'Fend off attacks from ferocious wild animals crocodiles,
'snakes and beetles.'
Beetles, beetles, beetles, please let it be beetles.
Giant beetle! Giant beetle! Pause the game.
Well, at least tell me what weapon I get to defend myself with.
'Weapons? Oh, no, you don't get any weapons, just this.
'The Book Of The Dead.'
Look out, giant man-eating beetle. I'm packing a scroll.
'It's full of spells to defeat your tormentors.'
- OK, that could work. - 'The player must use the various control pad key
'combinations to enact the right spells.'
Gotcha!
'Or alternatively, just whack the keys at random
'and hope for the best.'
- Whoa! Whoa! - 'At the end of each level you must pass through a gate
'guarded by a terrifying, grotesque monster, such as...
- 'He who lives on snakes.' - I can take him.
- 'He who dances in blood.' - Reckon I could have him, too.
'And he who eats the excrement from his hind quarters.'
All right, all right, you win! Just don't breathe on me.
'Beat all the bosses and reach the final level.
'The Weighing Of The Heart ceremony.
'Your heart is weighed against the Feather Of Truth,
'which knows all the lies you've told in your past life.'
OK, OK. So I cheated during the school spelling test.
Have you ever tried hieroglyphics?
Yours to own in exchange for five sacks of barley,
three leopard skins, two good horses or one reliable slave.
In Georgian times, we had an excellent fire service.
In fact, there were several to choose from.
That could get very confusing.
WOMAN SCREAMS
My house is on fire!
Have no fear, Westminster Fire Brigade are here.
- No blaze too big, no fire too small. - Oh, thank you.
Panic over, madam. Royal Exchange Fire Brigade here.
We've got more buckets and bigger pumps than certain
fire brigades I care to mention.
Two fire brigades, it's my lucky day.
Where's the fire?
Please try to relax, madam.
The Sun fire brigade is here now. Quenching fires since 1710.
That's 1710 the year, not 5:10 in the afternoon.
- Oh, thank you. - No, thank you so much for choosing the Sun
to insure your home against fire.
Whoa, back up! I think you'll find she is with the Royal Exchange.
No, she isn't, she's with the Westminster.
Actually, I'm not with any of you, but now you're here...
- Come on, let's go. - Another time waster. Brilliant.
Put the buckets away.
Are you going to let my house burn down
- because I'm insured with another company? - Yes.
Well, what happened to, "No blaze too big, no fire too small?"
If you're not insured, we won't help at all.
- Well, can I at least borrow a bucket? - ALL: No!
DING-A-LING-A-LING
Make way for the Atlas Fire Brigade.
Atlas, Atlas - that's who I'm with.
Bring in the buckets, bring in the pumps.
That's right, get lost, you lot, I've got a real fireman now,
thank you so much.
No, no, thank you for choosing the Atlas Fire Brigade to
insure your home.
- Now, if I could just check your papers. - Sorry?
- Your insurance papers please, madam. - Clearly, they're inside the house.
And clearly, we can't put out a fire until I see your insurance papers.
Clearly, I can't get the papers, until you put out the fire.
Well, in which case, there's only one thing I can do.
Marshmallow? For the fire. Nice.
To get round that problem, they eventually worked out they should
put the logo of the appropriate fire brigade on the front
of an insured building.
Here's a tip. Never strike a match in a sewer.
Lots of highly flammable gases down there.
On the plus side,
in a sewer you can go to the loo whenever you like.
Unlike at the court of George II.
Ooh, I do hope she's not going to be long.
I'm quite desperate for a wee.
YOU'RE desperate? I'm absolutely bursting.
The sound of that fountain isn't helping.
Block it out, Georgina, block it out.
Yes, we must hold on.
Not long now.
Let's try and think of something else.
Ooh, I don't think I can hold on much longer.
Be strong, Georgina, be strong.
Oh, thank heavens. At last, it's my turn.
Your Majesty, please may I have permission to use the toilet?
Indeed you may.
Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you.
Aaaah!
Oh, sweet relief which cannot be measured. Thank you.
And do you have something you'd like to ask the Queen?
I'm afraid it might be a bit late for that, Your Majesty.
So sorry.
Did you know, at the end of the Stone Age,
we were very soph...sophistic...
We were clever.
Our homes even had furniture.
'Guaranteed never to sag.
'There's only one place that does the lot.'
'That's right, world of stone.
'Why not pay a visit to our new showroom in Skara Brae, just a short
'row in a dug-out boat from the coast of Scotland.
'We've got all the latest furniture new to the Neolithic era
Limpet tank?
'Yes, limpet tanks.
'From World Of Stone, our delivery men
'can deliver anywhere in Britain.'
It's no good, Kevin, it's not going to budge.
For henges, please allow 30 years.
- Stand up straight. - I can't, I've done my back in.
Oh, mate.
So don't delay, come to World Of Stone today.
'They used poo and seaweed as fuel.
'And in the Stone Age, fire was used to help make bronze,
'which led to a whole new era.'
Good evening, and welcome to the early news. I'm Vanessa Stonebottom.
Our main story tonight.
The technological revolution that could call an end to
the Stone Age as we know it.
It's over to our technology correspondent, Trevor Geek. Trevor.
Thanks, Vanessa. I'm here
at the opening of the Bronze Age.
People are hailing it as the dawn of a new era,
because it's the dawn of a new era.
Earlier on, I caught up with
the excited people in the queue
who have been waiting
an age for the Bronze Age. Hee-hee.
Well, actually, I've been queueing all night,
I'm very excited, I really want
to get my hands on a bronze axe.
It is cutting-edge technology.
I suppose you could say this
technology is cutting-edge.
Well, yes, that's the joke I was making.
I love these new bronze designs.
They're so shiny, brilliant.
I've not been into weapons before,
but look, brilliant.
I'll get something for my mum, as well. You all right, mum?
Copper and tin are the ingredients in bronze,
which is being used to make stronger and sharper weapons.
If you're wondering what the point of a bronze sword is,
it's the sharp bit on the end.
I'm joined by blacksmith, Cliff,
and he's going to tell us,
in detail, about what goes into the making of bronze.
Cliff, how do you combine
the copper and the tin?
Erm, you just heat them together.
Right, and how do you heat them together?
With heat.
- Is there someone else we can talk to? - I told you I didn't want to do it.
Whoa, Tim, you seem to have bought the lot?
Yes, I only popped in for a bronze axe,
but then spent all our shells on a matching spear and dagger,
and all sorts of weapons.
The wife's probably going to kill me.
Well, she will be spoilt for choice for beautiful weapons to do it with.
Once again, you've stolen my joke there,
- cos that's what I was going for. - Sorry.
Excuse me, I can't help but notice that you haven't bought anything.
No. I reckon this whole Bronze Age thing is just a fad.
I'm going to wait for the Iron Age to come along.
So the Stone Age is over.
The Bronze Age is here to stay, or is it? Back to the studio.
During the war,
the Germans launched devastating bombing raids on British cities.
And you won't believe how they picked out some of their targets.
"And beneath you, you will now see the historic English city of Bath.
"Renowned for its ancient Roman baths
"and distinctive 18th-century architecture."
Wait a minute. Why is it on fire?
Aagh! Someone is dropping bombs on Bath.
- Ja, vee are! - Vee are?
What are you, Dumm-dummkopf?
This place gets three stars in my travel guide to the most
beautiful, historical cities in Britain.
Ja, Heinrich. That is why we are bombing it.
German High Command wants us
to bomb any city with three stars in the Baedeker guide.
Bombs away!
Oh, hot sausage! I think I just hit some old building.
Some old building?!
That was the Assembly Rooms,
"as featured in old romantic novels of Jane Austen."
Oh, does it say anything about it having a massive hole in the roof?
Nein.
It has gone out of date already.
That's it, turn the plane around. We're going to Coventry.
Coventry? We have already bombed it. It is flattened.
Ja, exactly, so there's nothing left to ruin.
No matter how much we hate the English, surely it is not
right for us to destroy these beautiful, historical sites.
Heinrich, were you not listening at all in ze briefing? They started it.
They bombed our beautiful German city of Lubeck.
Was? Lubeck?
With its fine medieval buildings.
Fine medieval holes in the ground now.
This is a revenge mission.
Philistines.
Right, let us set course for the beautiful city of Exeter,
"with its medieval cathedral, boasting the longest
"uninterrupted vaulted ceiling in the whole of England."
Ha-ha-ha! Not for much longer!
But be careful not to bomb the gift shop,
it says here they do some amazing keyrings.
- Does it have those massive pencils? - Ja. - Yes!
- And they have fudge. - They have fudge? - Ja.
- I love fudge. - Awesome.
The Germans really did use the Baedeker travel guide to pick
out some historical bombing targets.
Fortunately, us rats had our own bomb shelters.
They're called sewers.
Of course, the German bombers, had to deal with the good old RAF.
Chocks away, boys.
AIR RAID SIREN
We fighter pilots fought the German chaps in World War II
And Hurricanes and Spitfires performed feats of derring-do
The finest British pilots that the world could hope to have
Binky, Stinky, Squiffy, Frantisek and Stanislaw
Hold fire, is that some foreign chaps risking their necks?
That's right, some of the bravest men were Polish and Czech
We like to fire, beating Jerry our one desire
Yeah, yeah.
All we do each night is pray we'll live to fight another day
Take that, Hitler.
My name is Douglas Bader Let me tell of my ordeal
Lost both legs in an accident these ones are not real
I left the Air Force After that flying was a hobby
But when war broke in '39 I came back
Just like Robbie
Shot down 22 of them Led the air attack
Till finally the Luftwaffe hit me back
Oh, no, pretty baby
His reign of fire
Stuck in the cold It's such a shame to retire
Yeah, yeah
Don't forget this great man's story and his role in Britain's glory
We flew in tough conditions Lucky to survive five missions
Not that I'm complaining but I've had just ten hours' training
Epic dogfights in the sky Outnumbered, that's why
We're now known by you As the few
Phew, he missed me.
The Battle of Britain was our pilots' finest hour
Although it seemed at first the Germans were the stronger power
So strong
We mustered all our courage in summer 1940
Scrambled Air Force squadrons to fly sortie after sortie
Saw Nazi invasion off just as we should
Our bravery meant Hitler wouldn't be back for good
No, no
We beat the Fuhrer
Without us frequent flyers Your life would be poorer
Yeah, yeah
Britain securer
Our story of heroics will for ever endure
- Yeah! - So I think you'll find it's true... #
CHURCHILL: 'Never in the field of human conflict,
'was so much owed by so many to so few.'
Tall tales, atrocious acts We gave you all the fearsome facts
If you enjoyed that, why not play the new AD/BC Time Tour music game?
Go to the CBBC website and click on Horrible Histories. Rock on!
The past is no longer a mystery Hope you enjoyed...
Horrible Histories. #
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