All language subtitles for horrible_histories_s10e04_gruesome_gunpowder_plot

Terrible Tudors, gorgeous Georgians,
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Wars, ferocious fights, dingy cartels,
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middle -aged, gory, godly, mean, and
cruel, stuff they don't teach you at

school, the past is no longer a mystery,
welcome to Horrible

Histories.

Horrible Histories presents the gruesome
gunpowder plot.

Hey! Yes, it's me, Guy Fawkes.

You know, Bonfire Night.

You had Bonfire Night thanks to me.
You're welcome.

Although, if I'm honest, the whole
country is celebrating the fact I got

captured and my plan's ruined. It's a
little hurtful, especially as I'm

currently locked in the Tower of London.
How did I get here? I'll tell you the

story. And it actually all begins 70
years before I got caught.

Henry VIII decided he wanted to divorce
his wife, Catherine, and marry Anne

Boleyn. It's a Catholic church run by
the Pope. Wouldn't allow!

I'll let him tell you all about it. Diss
track.

It's an absolute banger.

The Pope is a guy God thinks he's fine.
He's also a real good friend of mine.

Defender of the faith they call me,
because I'm such a great Catholic.

See?

Then I got bored of Catherine.

I wanted to marry Anne.

The Pope said, cos I'm Catholic, I gotta
be a one -woman man.

So, no, I don't want no Pope. The Pope
is a guy that can't get no love from me.

Gonna split from the Catholics. Now the
head of the English church is me.

I happy and pass the church on to my
Protestant son.

Give him hell, Edward!

Awkward. Mary time.

There's Brother Eddie Perry.

Now the country's mine.

Cos I was brought up Catholic. I'll turn
you back one more time. Cos how I love

the Pope. The Pope is the guy who repped
my God for me.

And if you don't agree, that's totally
fine.

I'll defer you for heresy.

Olivia!

Now Mary died, the country's mine.

How will we pray? I must decide. Born
Protestant, raised with Catholics.

I really can't see both sides.

If I trust the Catholic, the whole
church is mine.

If they don't obey me, I'll trust them,
I have to be fine. No, no, I don't want

no Pope. The English church should all
be about me.

They don't such a state.

That sounds great. Call it tax or
supremacy.

I don't want no pope.

No, sorry.

But what will happen after me?

Well, I'll tell you what happened.

Elizabeth didn't have any heirs, so they
put this guy on the throne.

King James VI of Scotland.

Oh, yeah.

I'm going to be the English king.

Not only is his dancing irritating, but
he's a Protestant, which is doubly

annoying. Well, that didn't mean us
Catholics weren't close by him. And I

very close.

Really hard to tell you this, bro.

With the people of Greenwich are
talking.

This isn't about me weeing on the horse
again.

Oh, yes, that. But also, like, maybe
your wifey Anne has totally secretly

converted to... Catholicism.

You're wrong.

You're all wrong.

Brew!

Oh.

Hi, babe.

You okay?

Yeah.

Um, look, first off, this is super
awkward for me, okay? Like, I'm not a

confrontationalist person.

I know, love how chill we are, babes.
Yeah, but this rumour about you being a

secret Catholic, that's making me kind
of unchill.

Oh, babes.

Uh, are those prayer beads?

Is that a Catholic rosary? James, you're
so controlling of the fush up.

Just like a random gift from a good
friend.

And is that friend a Catholic?

Um, maybe.

A bit.

Anne! How could you?

How could you? Wee on a horse. I did not
wee on a horse! I wee'd off a horse! I

just so happened to be sitting on a
horse when I did the wee! It's

different! It's embarrassing.

Embarrassing? You're a Catholic, love.

You know, I'm this close to ordering all
Catholic priests to leave the country.

Thanks, Trudger. You pushed me to it.

Even though I hardly even knew any
Catholic priests or anything at the

And babes' blessings.

Old Pope, we just wanted to know if you
got that rosary he sent you. Now you're

such a massive paper.

Oui, oui, oui.

Those rosary beads are from the Pope.

Um, maybe a bud?

Right, that's it. All Catholic priests
banned. Get out of my country, mate.

I would ask to borrow a horse, but I
presume your saddle's still drying out?

Dad!

So, what with rumours of Anne secretly
practising Catholicism and a couple of

attempts to kill King James, not by me,
James decided to make it really hard for

us to be Catholics in England. Not only
could we be fined for taking part in

mass, but Catholic priests were also
banned from England altogether.

Yeah. Sorry, Jeff.

You've got to go.

Don't give me those puppy dog eyes.

This is goodbye.

Hey.

Unbelievable. We Catholics were very
angry about all this, and some of us

over to Spain to ask their king for help
in getting rid of our King James.

But they refused.

So it was time for me and a few other
guys to take matters into our own hands.

Not you, Jeff.

I've seen him do weddings. He's bad on
depression.

Remember, remember the 5th of November.

Gunpowder, treason and plot.

Well, meet the plotters.

This is our leader, Robert Catesby.

A rebel, true and true.

The kind of bloke that don't play by the
rules. See?

Absolute rule -breaking ledge.

Most of the time.

Then there's my mate, Thomas Winter,
Catesby's number two.

He's from a pretty tasty family. His
uncle got home -drawn and courted just

being Catholic.

John Wright, a .k .a. The Muscle. The
only thing he loves more than

is a fight.

And don't forget Thomas Percy, the
inside man.

He's connected.

He's got money. He's got us a safe
house, and he claims he can get us in

under the Houses of Parliament.

And boom, there's me, Guy Fawkes. I'm
the explosives expert. I'm a schemer and

soldier, sold off my family inheritance
and dedicated my life to the Catholic

cause and getting rid of King James.

I'm not afraid to be right in the mix if
things go up in smoke.

Gentlemen, we're here to discuss
overthrowing the tyrannical government

James and return a Catholic monarch to
the English throne.

Now, the plot... Welcome to the Duck and
Drake. Can I get you any drinks? We

have wine, cider, beer, ale. Ah, we're
fine. I could go for an ale. Yeah, me

too. Yeah.

Fine. Five ales.

So, gentlemen, the plan...

is that we killed the king of... Yes.

Sorry.

Why are we meeting in a pub?

So we don't arouse suspicion.

To the casual observer, we're just
friends.

Out having a drink.

But we're not.

We're not friends?

No. We're plotters, bringing about the
downfall of the king.

That doesn't mean we can't be friends.

I mean, you and I are related.

Might be nice to hang out from time to
time, you know, when we're not plotting.

John and I are brothers -in -law. We're
not friends, but we are family.

Does that matter? No!

Now, back to business.

No one must... Five ales! Hey!

Look.

Once we assassinate the king, we... What
do you want now?

Heidi, Heidi! Who else wants to ask you
the same thing, sir?

What do you want?

Oh, we want to kill the king.

To eat. The specials are on the board.

Oh, great. I'm starving.

All right, I'll give you a couple of
minutes.

So, gentlemen...

Once we kill the king, we ride up north
to begin the revolt.

Armed with hundreds... Ring the bell!

What? It's a game where you toss a ring
onto a ball as we go in the back. Ooh,

that sounds fun. We're not here to play
any games.

Yeah, right. Why would you want to have
fun with a relative who, it turns out,

doesn't even consider you a friend?

I just... I really misinterpreted what
this relationship... Can we please

OK.

After. We kill the king. We travel up
north.

We kidnap James's daughter, Elizabeth.

We convince her to convert to
Catholicism. And then we make her Queen

England. Simple.

I'm sure I call it simple.

Any questions?

Yeah. Does the pie come with veg, or do
we have to order that separate? About

the plot to kill the king. Carrots.
What? Somebody asked about the pie.

It comes with carrots and peas.

Lovely. I'll have that.

Yes, me too. Three pies.

Gatsby, don't go off on a stop. I'm not.

I'm playing ring the bull.

Yeah, well, you need a friend to do
that.

You know, a friend like we're not,
apparently.

You really hurt my feelings when you
said that, you know.

So,

during our night in the pub, we came up
with a plan.

The idea is for one group to kill the
king and his supporters here in London,

while the rest of us gather a rebel army
in the Midlands and capture King

James's daughter.

Princess Elizabeth, so that when he's
killed, we can put her on the throne as

our puppet.

Not that kind of puppet.

Out! Oh, give me strength.

This is where I'll be.

My job is to kill the king by blowing up
the Houses of Parliament.

Our base is here, at Patesby's House on
the south side of the tent, where we've

stored our gunpowder. It's our safe
house.

As long as no one lights a match.

Now, we need to put the gunpowder under
this building, the Houses of Parliament

over here.

So, we've got to get across the river
and into Parliament.

That's why Thomas Percy rented us a
house roughly here, by Parliament's

So, at night, we use boats to carry the
gunpowder across the river from

Catesby's house to the house Percy's
rented.

remembering not to light a match along
the way. So, now we've got the gunpowder

on the right side of the river, hidden
near Parliament.

What did I say about matches?

Next, we'll dig a tunnel from house to
the cellars underneath Parliament, hide

the gunpowder there.

Then, when the King comes to open
Parliament in front of all his friends,

laugh when it's OK to light the match
and...

Okay, might need more than one barrel of
powder.

Let's try a thousand.

Too much. Let's take 30. Perfect.

It's a flawless plan.

And all we have to do now is dig a
tunnel.

Oh, and remember not to light any
matches.

What could possibly go wrong?

So, that was the plan for the plot.

Or possibly the plot for the plan.

It was pretty good in theory, and we
were on our way towards blowing up

Parliament, and with it, the King.

Success was just a short tunnel away.

Simple, right?

Wrong.

Hello, and welcome to Historical
Amazingly Small Spaces.

Today, I'm here with Thomas Wittner, Guy
Fawkes and Thomas Percy, who've taken

on the amazing challenge of extending
this Westminster basement.

It's a lot of hard work, am I right,
lads? Well, ever since we rented the

house... That was me, actually. That was
my job. Hi.

We have been digging through the walls
and propping the ceiling up with...

Piles of wood, often working 16 -hour
days, so it's been back -breaking work.

But we've been well prepared. We've got
a huge dash of dried meat and eggs, so

we never even have to leave.

Which is great, obviously.

Couldn't have chosen any food or an
airless underground room, and he went

dried meat and eggs.

And with no windows, that is going to be
trapped in here all day. All day.

So, what exactly is the build for?

So, we are reinforcing the basement
walls because there was water leaking in

from the temps.

Well, at least that's what we're
supposed to say if anyone asks, right?

But doesn't the tunnel go right
underneath the House of Lords? How does

help? Well, it helps if you're trying to
blow up Parliament.

Erm, we had no idea that the tunnel went
under the House of Lords.

I thought it was the whole plan guy,
wasn't it? Guy? Oh, no.

So you're not trying to dig under the
House of Lords?

No. Why? Are you suspicious of
something?

No, not at all.

For a second there, I thought you'd
rented the wrong house.

So what do you mean?

Well, the house next door already has a
cellar that goes right under the House

of Lords, so you could have just rented
that one.

Does it?

Yeah, yeah. You wouldn't have had to do
any digging at all.

Have a word for this, Tom.

Sorry, guys.

I haven't talked about anything.

Three months we've been digging this
fart filth!

Sorry, I didn't know.

Oh, Aggie, nobody like a match.

What?

Oh, there's been 20 barrels of gunpowder
we've got hidden down here, eh? Oh, no,

no, Winter, come here! Well, that is all
we have time for today on historical,

amazingly small spaces.

I would just like to wish the lads all
the luck in the world with... Well, to

honest, I'm still not entirely sure what
it is they're doing.

They're blowing up the Houses of
Parliament.

We'll soon look, all right!

again, James I of England or James VI of
Scotland? You choose. I answer to both.

I was the innocent victim of this foul
gunpowder plot, and I know who'd want to

blow up such a lovely face as this.

Some people are going to be in a lot of
trouble. Anyway, there was one piece of

evidence that tipped me off about the
plot on November 1st, 1605, but can you

tell me what it was?

Was it A.

Something I overheard whilst I was doing
a poo?

B. A mysterious and cryptic letter I
read.

Or C.

A man with a massive barrel of gunpowder
asking me if I'd seen the king.

The answer is B.

I got hold of the Monteagle letter.

It was sent to Baron Monteagle and it
mysteriously told him to stay away from

Parliament. The letter said that
Parliament would receive a terrible blow

guessed someone was going to try and
blow it up. So I ordered the building to

searched, thereby saving this handsome
creature.

Honestly. You write one book about
catching witches and they take it so

personally.

You're not a witch, are you? Hello?

Are you a witch?

Seriously, come over here.

Show me your witchy eyes. What?

I'm not obsessed, mate. You're obsessed.

Sorry to interrupt, mate.

Apparently some joker's trying to blow
up the Houses of Parliament.

You haven't seen him around, have you?

Nope.

OK, fair enough. We'll leave you to it.
Have a good night and... Hang on a

second.

That's a lot of firewood to be stacking
right underneath the Houses of

Parliament. Is it?

I wasn't really, no. I'm just a lowly
servant, man.

Looking after a cellar full of wood for
my boss, Thomas Percy.

Fair enough.

Well, boys, it looks like nothing dodgy
is going on here. Let us know if you see

anything strange. Will do.

Let's go find the guy. Yes.

What?

Is it Guy?

Is your name Guy?

No.

What's your name?

John. John what?

John. Son John Johnson.

My name's John Johnson.

John Johnson?

Yeah.

Lovely to meet you, John Johnson.

Good to meet you too.

Better let you get on with it. Let us
know if you see anyone up to no good.

Johnson's your man.

Close one.

Proof, if ever, that God is on our side.

Nothing can stop us now.

We're stuck on one thing.

Wait a second, what's all this?

John Johnson, you are nicked! Drop that
barrel of gunpowder!

I don't think that would be a very good
idea.

You're probably right!

And there you have it, fireworks fans.

That's why I'm here.

Yes, my race is run. The king has me in
his clutches.

But the rest of the guys, Catesby and
co, are still on the loose.

Hopefully, they can turn this thing
around.

I mean, while they've got some
gunpowder, the gunpowder plot is still

baby!

Can't do any worse than old John Johnson
here, can they?

Actually, they can.

Oh, come on!

With Guy Fawkes now captured, lead
investigator Sheriff Richard Walsh and

men are hot on the trail of Catesby and
his fugitive crew, including Thomas

Winter and Everett Digby.

OK, quick recap, guys.

Fawkes is out of the picture and
Parliament is safe. But Robert Catesby

rest of the conspirators still want to
start a rebellion.

So let's hunt them down.

Pretty obvious they'll head for the
Midlands. And the weather's bad.

So we should look out for some soaking
wet, stressed -out Catholics.

I'm stressed!

I'm super stressed!

Everything's ruined!

Come on, Winter! Take me!

Everything'll be fine! Will it, kids?
This? Will it? It's our plans that's

up in smoke!

Or rather, it didn't. That was the old
plan. Old plan? Yeah.

The new plan is that we lie low here at
Holbeck House in Staffordshire, drum up

support and start a revolt.

They'll never see us coming.

They'll be lying low, drumming up
support and trying to start a revolt.

Mr. Sanders.

Catesby's crew are drying out inside
Holbeck House.

It's going great, guys.

We've got hundreds of willing men.

All the willing men have left.

Never mind.

There are a small group of willing men
who can move fast and achieve a lot. I

tell you what, getting hold of those
horses, now that was a stroke of luck.

We've got word of some stolen horses in
Warren.

So let's go and check it out.

There's going to be fireworks.

Now that's how you dry gunpowder.

Look, I know I'm not the explosives
expert, but I'm sure they were going to

remember about gunpowder and fire. How
else are you meant to dry it? I don't

know. It doesn't work if it's wet, so we
didn't have much of a choice.

Don't worry, it's perfectly safe.

Come on. Come on, man.

Surely you can see that the planets
still work.

I can't see anything anymore.

Calm down.

They'll never find us.

We found them.

Do you think we should just give up?

Never. It's fine.

Don't worry about it.

It's all good.

Well, I guess that's okay to me.

Don't you think?

Bad luck, guys.

You've been hunted down.

And in some cases, shot.

What happened?

Did we win?

I'll take that as a no.

Yo, yo, Pink James in the house. And
looky what we have here.

Mr. John Johnson.

If that is your real name.

A letter was found on your person
addressed to one Guy Fawkes.

No comment.

Oh, don't worry.

I'll find out if you're telling the
truth by allowing Sir William Weed and

men to use their powers of persuasion.

Persuasion, sir?

We usually talk to them. Yes, Weed, I
was trying to be subtle and

Begin, Weed! Start lightly, getting more
severe if you resist.

Very well, Majesty.

Oh, come on, then! Do your worst!

Uh -oh.

Tickle time.

Sir William.

I think threatening him with a feather
is a little too light.

I'm very ticklish, though.

More than a feather.

Set him on fire?

No. What's the difference?

The wreck.

There we go.

That's the sort of thing.

Start with the manacles and work your
way up. Now off to get tortured you go.

Oh, will you look at that?

Guy's no longer here to speak to you. I
wonder why that is.

I'm trying to say we had him executed,
and not in a nice way. But your friend

and mine, me, was very much alive and
kicking.

Boo -yeah!

Now, the gunpowder plot was an epic
fail, and it kind of felt like everyone

should celebrate that fact every year.

So me and my parliament made that a rule
for November the 5th.

Faith! Ha ha ha, the fun we had. This is
Jimmy on the Street. I'm James the

First, or Jimmy the Sixth if you spot
it. And the best day of the year is

finally here. The 5th of November, 1606.
The day we all celebrate me still being

alive.

Cheer, Robert.

Yay. Yay!

My advisor Robert Cecil here is right to
cheer. What a day!

You, if you could say one word, what
would it be? No one cares. Okay, come

Oh, you, unnamed female, what are you
doing?

Uh, building a bonfire.

Why? Because you ordered us to
celebrate.

Well, what are you waiting for?

To burn everything.

To celebrate me not getting burned. Yes,
one whole day to reflect on what an

absolute blessing it was that I didn't
get bumped off by that mean old guy

and his wee pals. And that is today, the
5th of November.

Should be the 4th, right?

But you've got something to say, Cecil.

Well, Guy Fawkes was discovered on the
4th of November, so technically we

have celebrated yesterday.

Is there a day to celebrate you, Robert?

No, Your Majesty.

No, there isn't. Well, there is for me,
pal, and that is City, the 5th of

November.

Which week? Which week, Cecil? No, this
week. What about you?

Oh, you're too wooden.

Burn! Burn!

It's just going to keep getting bigger.
I'm picturing gun salute, bell ringing,

you know, mayoral procession. And in
July, Christian of Denmark even brought

a firework which we went off in
celebration. Tell them about it.

It was broad daylight in the middle of
July, so when it went off, no -one could

really see anything.

Which made it all the more impressive.

He's not wrong! So many chances to
celebrate your...

Me, the 5th of November.

Don't forget that date.

Expecting people to be celebrating that
date for many centuries to come.

Remember, remember the 5th of November.

That's stupid. That rhyme could
literally apply to any day in November.

It could be the 4th of November.

No. You!

Celebrate me more!

Why is that on fire? Everything should
be on fire!

Right! I'm off to sing a total banger
about the history of fireworks.

Happy bonfire night, everyone!

The birth of fire were an ancient
Chinese tale.

Wei Boyang tried to live forever but was
doomed to fail.

He mixed three powders up, thought they
would be a hit.

He didn't live so long but now the spark
was lit. Cause when you add some heat

and then retreat, it starts to smoke

and spark and light the dark.

Oh, this really seems to help my
psoriasis.

Yes, he had made an egg to cure.

Apply the mixture to the sore.

Not what he was looking for.

Must be more to this for sure.

Little fireworks goes doom, doom, doom.

But fill a barrel and it's boom, boom,
boom.

We'll blow the king across the room.

Then Catholic England can resume,
resume, resume Cause they were using

gunpowder That started as an ex -macure
But Guy

Fawcett did not go bang And soon he was
a captured man

Now no matter where

Tickle. Tickle.

The past is no longer a mystery.

Hope you enjoyed.