Original subtitles

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...

There were a lot of nasty diseases around in Stuart Britain,

and some pretty crazy ideas on how they could be cured.

I've come back to Stuart times to look into the disastrous state

of their healthcare system.

These poor people are all sick with scrofula.

- Excuse me? - Get away from me.

A disease that causes fever and swelling of the neck.

Are you deaf? I told you to get from me.

Oh, I thought you were trying to jump the queue.

Do I look sick?

You do look a bit swollen.

Some people have waited up to a year for treatment.

How long have you been waiting, sir?

Oh, not long. Two days.

Two days? Can we get someone who's waited a year, please?

How long have you been waiting here, Tim?

I've been waiting for about a year.

That's excellent.

I mean, that's dreadful, it's terrible.

Oh, dear, someone's died!

Have you got this? Good.

That's dreadful. Did she die from the disease?

Oh, no, scrofula isn't fatal.

No, she died of her injuries, waiting in the crush to be seen.

Someone's going to have to answer to this.

I demand to see the man in charge. Who is he?

Well, it's him. Charles II.

You're cured.

You're cured.

You're cured.

No, I'm not sick.

Are you sure? You look a bit swollen.

Is this a joke? Is it a joke?

I've been blessed with the royal touch, you know.

I have only to touch you with my hand

and your scrofula will be cured.

That's why they call it the King's Evil.

But you're not even touching them with your hand.

No, because they're sick, and some of them are really rather smelly.

So I just touch a gold coin

and give that to them.

And all of a sudden they're magically cured?

Yes.

You're cured.

Are you actually cured?

Er, no.

But do you feel any better?

Yeah, I've got a gold coin.

And what do you do? No, don't tell me, I don't want to know.

Can I just ask, why have some of these people

waited up to a year to be seen for treatment?

Well, there's only one of me, and I only do this once a year.

I mean, a man's got parties to go to!

Now are you sure you don't want that scrofula cured?

For the last time, I do not have scrofula.

But I am getting a headache.

I've got just the thing. Powdered mummy.

I use it to keep myself wise and strong.

No need to thank me.

This is Dom Duckworth in Stuart England,

covered in the remains of an ancient Egyptian mummy.

A sentence I never thought I'd hear myself say.

It's in my eyes.

Can we get a nurse? Dead man in my eye.

During World War II, the Germans recruited some very unusual spies.

At ease!

I think you will be very happy with the new recruits.

I believe they will turn out to be

some of the finest spies in the German army.

Very good work, Frau Schmitt.

May I present Private Curvenon.

DOG BARKS

He says hello.

Hello, sir. He's very formal.

You're sure he isn't just...

..Barking?

Nein. His speech is based on barking,

but I have learnt to recognise

the different words and am able to translate.

Now, Frau Schmitt, are you just making this up?

Well, General, as you know, Adolf Hitler himself

has authorised the setting up of the animal talking school.

Are you suggesting that his idea

is not entirely a good one?

In no way, Frau Schmitt.

Perhaps you'll be more easily impressed by Private Rolf.

He taps his paw in a different way for each letter.

Now that is more like it.

Do you have anything you wish to say

to the General, Rolf?

W, O, O, F.

Woof.

Do not bark at the General! Bad soldier!

We are also carrying out experiments to see

if dogs can communicate telepathically with humans.

Oh, what's that Rolf? You want a bone?

You don't have to be a mind- reader to know that. He's a dog!

Perhaps you'll be more impressed by Private Axel.

And how does he communicate?

Well, ask him a question.

Any question?

Ja, any question. So long as it is "who is Adolf Hitler?"

Erm, who is Adolf Hitler?

DOG: Mein Fuhrer!

Now that is good.

Our research is coming on leaps und bounds.

Sitz und play deadz.

Soon we will have a spy network of dogs.

Well, the Allied forces certainly won't be expecting that.

There is just one small problem with our new recruits.

What's that?

There are some hygiene issues.

Ja.

DOG BARKS

Oh! Rolf says sorry.

I bet he does.

Bizarrely, Hitler was an animal lover,

and was convinced by scientists that animals might make good spies.

So he approved the animal talking school.

Animals talking? As if that's possible!

Yes, many animals were put to work during World War II.

We need more ammo! Corporal Wojciech!

You can't ask someone with a senior rank to fetch your ammo.

You can ask this Corporal.

Aaaah! A bear! There's a bear, there's a bear!

Yes, that's Corporal Wojciech.

Er, it's a bear.

Of course, but according to his paperwork, he's a Polish Corporal.

My unit adopted him as bear cub, but when we moved,

the only way he was allowed on the ship was if he was enlisted.

So now he's Corporal Wojciech.

But he's sTill a bear.

Don't worry, Wojciech's harmless, he just carries ammunition around.

He won't hurt you, unless he drops a shell, obviously.

Oh! Oh, you had me then!

We Vikings lived in some pretty remote places,

and food could be scarce, so we ate all sorts of unusual stuff.

Tuck's up, boys.

Hey, I thought we'd run out of butter?

We did. This is seal blubber.

Oh, it tastes like fish.

Isn't it great? Guess what we've called it.

I can't believe you got me eating seal blubber.

That's right!

Oh, hang on. This bacon tastes funny.

That's because it's been fried in...

I can't believe you fried my food in seal blubber!

That's right!

Right, that's it, I'm skipping lunch, going back to work,

covering the bottom of the boats to prevent woodworm. Come on, Bob.

You know what you're going to need?

Not, "I can't believe I'm covering the bottom of my longship

"in seal blubber to prevent woodworm!"?

That's right!

Vikings ate seal blubber in settlements

like their one in Iceland.

So named because it was, well, icy.

When Eric the Red was exiled and wanted to start his own settlement

somewhere even icier, he had to fool other Vikings into joining him.

Hi, I'm Eric the Red.

Then why not move to the sundrenched paradise that's so green and fertile

we've called it Greenland.

We only moved here because you were exiled from Iceland

and wanted to be chieftain of somewhere else.

Mum!

Well, what's the point of being chieftain of Greenland

unless you find some people to rule?

Don't listen to her. Magnus just moved here and he loves it.

I love it.

We're looking for young Vikings to come

and join the p-p-p-party here in Greenland.

Pour me a drink, Magnus.

I can't, the beer is frozen.

And look, the jug is frozen to my hand. I've got a jug hand!

Don't believe what you've heard,

the weather here is great and the land is so fertile.

Why else would we call it Greenland?

To encourage people to move here

even though it's freezing and there's no food.

Mum!

I've lost a thumb!

It must have got so hot it went to find some shade.

We are so lucky to live here. That's why mum's gone to Greenland!

Oh, you stupid boy.

Now get me my furs. I'm freezing here!

It's true. Eric the Red was banished from Iceland

and founded a colony on Greenland instead.

He called it that to fool people into living there,

even though the winters were actually very, very cold.

Making Eric the Red more Eric the B-b-b-b-b-blue.

'It's the, "Thou hast been framed!" Roman special, yeah.'

'Welcome to the Battle of Zama,

'Hannibal of Carthage versus Scipio of Rome.'

'Here's Hannibal getting ready to rumble.'

I'm sending my elephants to attack the Romans.

Charge!

TRUMPETS PLAY AND ELEPHANTS TRUMPET

'But the Romans have scared the elephants with trumpets!'

'They're coming back.'

Let's get out of here!

Who'd have thought I'd get chased by my own elephants?

'That's what I call Carthage carnage.'

'Or Catharnage.'

'Or Carnathage. Oh, you get the point.'

'A solemn moment,

'Caesar Augustus himself visiting the tomb of Alexander the Great.'

'Two of the greatest men in history under one roof, a day to remember.'

Alexander of Macedon, I honour your memory.

SNAP!

'What have you done?'

I pulled his nose off by accident.

'Caesar Augustus there,

'winning the most famous general in a room,

'by a nose.'

'Oh, dear, I don't like the look of this.'

'What's that crazy Emperor Nero doing?'

'Some kind of torture, no doubt.'

'Setting fire to someone? Cutting them in half?'

'Setting wolves on them? Naughty boy.'

I wrote this one myself.

It's called "By the bonny, bonny banks of the Tiber".

'Just when you thought he couldn't get any crueller,

'you find out he plays the bagpipes. Mercy!'

'After the break, the Roman General Pompey

'leads his parade into Rome and gets his elephant trapped

'in a triumphal arch. Oh!'

In 60 BC, before Rome was ruled by Emperors, it was run by an alliance

of the three most powerful Romans - General Pompey, Julius Caesar,

and the richest Roman of all time, Marcus Licinius Crassus.

He was a rascal.

DANCE MUSIC PLAYS

I'm Marcus Licinius Crassus

No rich man could ever surpass us

Wanted people to say I was brave

But lost my first fight And hid in a cave

Living there could be A pauper's nightmare

But if you're rich like me Then you don't care.

I called my slave to the cave To ask it

To cook a feast and lower in a basket

There's Romans think they're minted

But they ain't rich like me

You can't call yourself loaded

Till you can buy an army

Ran Rome with Pompey and Caesar

They're more famous than me

But I'm the world's richest geezer

There's no-one richer than me

I'm minted!

I back General Sulla

Every day my wallet got fuller

Took the land off our enemies To flog it

Used the cash to fill my pocket

If I heard of a house on fire

I'd rush over, Be a quick cash buyer

My firemen would then Douse the flames, boom!

Another big house to my name

There's Romans think they're minted

But they ain't rich like me

You can't call yourself loaded

Till you can buy an army

Ran Rome with Pompey and Caesar

They're more famous than me

But I'm the world's richest geezer

There's no-one richer than me

I'm minted!

I bought an army for fighting Spartacus

At the start my men lost heart-acus

I killed one in ten In a killing spree

So they were more scared of me Than the enemy

Smashed the slaves, It got real gory

But then Pompey stole my glory

To show it was me That crushed the horde.

Nailed up the slaves like on a billboard.

They're splinted!

Not enough to be a big politician

Wanted triumph, took my army On a mission

Got owned by the Parthian Persians

They killed me, but you'll hear two versions

The famous one's quite hard To follow

They gave me boiling gold To swallow

But the true way they made me pay?

They used my head as a prop In a play

Embarrassing.

There's Romans think they're minted

But they ain't rich like me

You can't call yourself loaded

Till you can buy an army

Ran Rome with Pompey and Caesar

They're more famous than me

But I'm the world's richest Geezer

There's no-one richer than me. #

Ha, ha, love it, tell me you don't love it. Ha, ha.

One of our finest Georgian philosophers

was called Jeremy Bentham.

He was quite brilliant, but somewhat,

well, how shall I put this? Unusual.

Good afternoon, sir.

Ah, Jennings.

I've just finished my new design for a panopticon prison,

in which one guard can watch all inmates without their being able

to tell whether or not they're being watched.

Brilliant as ever, sir.

Now, I trust you haven't forgotten

you invited your new neighbour over for tea.

You won't do anything to embarrass him now, will you, sir?

No, Jennings, of course I won't.

Sir, what on earth are you wearing?

Well, I'm just trying out my new invention, they're called underpants.

What do you think?

I think they should be under something, sir.

Yes, you're quite right.

KNOCK AT DOOR

Ah, Mr... Good gracious!

They're underpants, sir.

I see.

Would you care for some tea? I believe the Reverend

Sir John Lambourne will be joining us shortly.

If a Reverend is joining us, should you not be wearing breeches, sir?

He won't mind.

Oh, here he is now.

CAT MEOWS

The Reverend is a cat?

Yes, of course. Come on, Reverend.

There we are.

Tell me, sir, do all your pets have such unusual names?

Of course not, my other pet's called Dickie.

A pet dog?

A pet teapot!

Who's a good teapot? Who's a good teapot?

Yes, you are!

Mr Bentham, I'm a very busy man, you are a very busy man, clearly.

So I shall not beat about the bush.

I intend to have a summer house built in my garden,

and I was hoping you would be agreeable to this.

Of course. An Englishman should be able to do

whatever he likes in his own garden.

I intend to decorate mine with varnished corpses.

I beg your pardon?

We must demystify death, sir.

Surround ourselves with it,

and we will lose our fear of mortality.

But you can't keep corpses in a garden!

Yes, maybe you're right. The weather would rot them.

Yes, maybe I'll just exhibit some preserved heads

in a specially-modified cabinet.

You, sir, are a very unusual man.

Oh.

Right, I'm off to walk Dapple and Dobbin.

Here they are, sir.

Thank you, Jennings. Come on, boys!

MIMES HORSE

Ride like the wind! Oh, Dapple!

Here's another colourful Georgian character.

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

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

Happy birthday! Well, come on, then, blow the candle out.

Oh! We'll be here all day.

Next!

Bonjour. Je m'appelle Madame Blanchard.

Oh! A French lady. I'll take this.

Comment vous appellez-vous?

Je m'appelle Madame Blanchard. I just told you.

All right, it's just the only French I know.

And what brings you here, Madame Blanchard?

Well, you may have heard of my husband, Jean-Pierre Blanchard?

Non?

The famous balloonist?

Oh, right. Well, you should feel right at home here.

Well, in 1785, my husband became the first man to ever cross the Channel

in a balloon, and I am something of a pioneer of aeronautics myself

being the first woman to ever work as a professional balloonist.

Oh, well, that's amazing, well done you, Madame Blanchard.

But too much helium can be bad for you. I'm already dead, keep up.

Sorry, do continue.

BALLOON DEFLATES

It was the balloon.

Well, after the death of my dear, beloved husband,

I continued ballooning, and in 1819, I did an ascent over Paris.

I wanted it to be a sight that no one would ever forget.

So I set off some fireworks at a great height.

Oh! Rewind. You let off some fireworks in a balloon?

Probably not my best idea.

One of the fireworks ignited the balloon gas and...

Ha-ha-ha! When a firework display ends,

it can leave you feeling a little flat.

Huh, do you get it? Splat, flat, you!

Ha-ha-ha! You're through to the afterlife.

Merci.

Oh, mind the step, there's a bit of a drop,

but I suppose you're used to that.

Ha-ha-ha!

Sometimes I love this job. I do, though, I do.

Stupid deaths, stupid deaths

Hope next time it's not you. #

Much of what we know about the early Middle Ages is thanks to monks

who wrote a chronicle of all the important events of each year.

There's a lot going on in the Saxon world.

And for years it's been almost impossible to keep up.

We've got invasions.

Civil War.

Saxons.

- Angles. - Jutes.

- Danes. - Vikings.

Normans.

And goodness knows what else.

And now you won't have to miss a thing, thanks to...

ALL: Anglo Saxon Chronicle Magazine,

from Worcester, Abingdon, Peterborough.

Yes, you can read the Anglo Saxon Chronicle

in any of these five locations in Middle Ages England.

Read how Earl Aelfgar was outlawed for admitting being a traitor.

Well, hang on. According to my Worcester version,

he was outlawed despite having done very little wrong.

Yeah, in our Abingdon issue

it says that he didn't do anything wrong.

Is someone checking we're all telling the same story?

- I'm not. we've just been writing whatever we want. - Us too.

What happens when everyone finds out

we're telling different versions of history?

- Not much. They're not allowed to read it anyway. - It's for monks only.

Cool, cool. Well, I won't tell anyone if you won't.

I definitely won't, I'm taking a vow of silence.

There goes the key.

BOTH: The magazine everyone in Saxon England should read.

Well, as long as they're Monks.

- What happened to the vow of silence? - Starting now.

Those Monks were the copying machines of their day,

until the invention of the printing press.

Good morning.

Good morning, Lord Sugar.

Now, which one of you is Team Monk?

That was a joke, I'm joking, it's a tough crowd.

This week's task was perfectly simple.

All I asked you lot to do was to make as many copies as possible

of this bestseller, the Bible.

So, Team Monk, who was your project manager?

Look, I know this boardroom's intimidating, but I won't bite.

Although I might bite if one of you doesn't start talking.

They've all taken a vow of silence, Lord Sugar.

Of course they have, sorry, Karren. So how did Team Baldy get on, then?

Well, they copied the Bible, by hand, using quill pens.

Sounds a bit route one to me, Karren.

How about Team Gutenberg here, who was your project manager?

I was, I'm Johannes Gutenberg.

Yeah, I know, I was joking again. How did you approach the challenge?

Well, Lord Sugar, I created a whole new printing process.

The old process involves carving out whole pages

onto these blocks of wood,

which are just thrown away when the book's printed.

CRASH

Sorry.

So I created a whole new movable typeface using these individual

metal letters, which can be arranged to spell anything you like,

and reused again and again and again

to create any number of different books.

Or a bill for a broken window?

Quite so. I needed a printing press

so that I didn't have to do anything by hand anymore.

Well, what idiot would do it all by hand?

Oh, you make the joke? That's very funny.

The printing press is based on the screw press as used in wine making.

Ingenious. How did the other team get on?

Well, in one day, Team Monk, between them,

managed to reproduce just 25 pages of the Bible.

25 pages?

Well, they do spend an awful lot of time

on their opening letters.

Yeah, but 25 pages is a disgrace.

It's going to take you months to make a copy of the Bible, isn't it?

How did Team Gutenberg get on?

Well, the Gutenberg press

printed 3,500 pages in a single day.

Well that's more like it, highly efficient.

So, just to recap,

Team Gutenberg single- handedly started a revolution

in communication, enabling knowledge to spread throughout the masses,

and Team Monk here gave us a few pretty letters.

Team Monk, what have you got to say for yourselves?

They've taken a vow of silence.

- I know, Karren, it was another joke. Not you and all? - Sorry.

Team Monk, I've only got one thing to say to you.

Well, actually, two things.

You're fired.

Team Gutenberg, congratulations.

You've won yourself a five-star Cordon Bleu dinner of a lifetime.

Team Monk, you're getting bread and water.

Without the bread and water.

That should shut them up, Nick.

Gutenberg changed the world with his printing press.

It meant ordinary people had access to books,

and knowledge was spread around.

It's one of the most important inventions of all time.

Right up there with the Whoopie Cushion.

FARTS

Grace Darling, darling, you've got a fan letter.

A fan letter for me, father? Oh, it hardly seems possible.

Nonsense. Everybody's talking about how you rowed that little boat

out to the wrecked ship off the Farne Islands

to rescue those people.

Darling, you're the darling, Darling of the newspapers.

Of course, it was actually me who rowed the boat

out to the wrecked ship, all you did was keep it steady

while I carried the injured people aboard,

but nobody seemed very interested in me.

"Dear Grace, I was so inspired by your strength and bravery,

"that I've painted a picture of you and put it on my wall."

"Do you think I might have a lock of your hair?"

Oh, what a charming letter, of course you may.

KNOCK AT DOOR

You've a couple more fan letters.

Really, people are so kind.

"Dear Grace, you are my heroine, you're so brave and fearless."

"I'd have been too scared to go out all on me own like that."

Of course, you weren't on your own, I was there,

but nobody cares about that, cos I'm a big bloke with a lighthouse

and you're a heroic little girl.

Though you were actually nearly 23 when we rescued those people,

but who's counting?

Luckily, I'm not bitter.

She wants a lock of your hair.

This one wants a lock of me hair as well.

Well, you cannae give them all hair.

Oh, it's just three letters.

KNOCK AT DOOR

Postman.

"Thank you so much for your letter and request for a lock of my hair."

"Sadly, it is the 2,000th such request

"and I am no longer able to honour it."

"Do you think you could write again in a couple of months

"when it's grown back?"

"And in the meantime, here's a toenail clipping."

Oh, she'll be delighted with that, it's a beauty.

Grace Darling was so famous,

people kept asking for locks of her hair, and she nearly went bald.

People never ask me for locks of my hair.

What's that? Probably cos it's covered in poo?

The problem being..?

Time now to meet another famous Victorian woman.

Welcome to HH TV Sport, and I'm just hearing that Emma Sharp,

an ordinary woman from Bradford,

is about to complete an extraordinary challenge.

If you think the marathon looked like hard work,

imagine having to do 38 of them, back to back.

Let's go live to 1864. Gary.

Yes, great excitement here at the Quarry Gap Hotel Sports Ground

in Bradford, where a crowd of 25,000 people have come to watch

this humble housewife as she nears the end of her incredible attempt

to walk 1,000 miles in 1,000 hours.

In fact, the event's generated so much interest,

they've been selling tickets.

She's been walking up and down this racetrack

for the last 42 days and nights,

and now there's just a few hundred yards to go

and here she comes now.

And just listen to that crowd.

CROWD BOOS

Actually, let's listen to that crowd.

What is she doing? Boo, somebody stop her!

What do you mean, somebody stop her?

She's about to do something extraordinary.

I've heard of men doing it,

whoever heard of a woman doing something so physically demanding?

It shouldn't be possible.

Also I bet ten quid that she couldn't.

Yeah, she's costing us a fortune, that woman. Get her off!

Right, well, it seems that many people in this largely male crowd

have actually been betting that she's not going to make it.

CHEERING

I don't believe it! He just tripped her up!

She's back on her feet.

Oh, she's amazing. Let's see if we can grab a quick word with her.

Er, Mrs Sharp, you're nearly there, how do you feel?

I'd just like to thank me husband

for inspiring me every step of the way.

So he's believed in you from the start?

No, no. He said no woman was capable of such a thing.

So I'm doing it to prove the smug idiot wrong.

Right, well, I think that's...

And there are sTill people trying to stop her.

She's pulled a gun.

Breaking news here, Emma Sharp's just pulled a gun.

There she goes, towards the finishing line, armed with a pistol

and accompanied by 18 policemen and a man with a loaded musket.

Oh, she's done it! Yes, 1,000 miles in 1,000 hours,

and that is one in the eye to all those chauvinist pigs

who said she'd never make it. Back to the studio.

I mean, she must have cheated.

There's no way that a woman could...

We're not sTill on air, are we, Pete?

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

The ugly truth, no glam or glitz...

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. #

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