All language subtitles for Horrible Histories s05e11 Vile Victorians.eng

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?

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.

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