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middling middle ages, gory stories, we do that, and your host, a talking rat,

the past is no longer a mystery, welcome to...

Horrible Histories!

Horrible Histories presents The Chaotic Civil War!

Hiya! Welcome to one of the rowdiest, riotous and most dangerous times

in our history.

Why, be careful where you're pointing that cannon!

Sorry! Welcome to the English Civil War. And let me tell you, it is intense.

It's a war between King Charles I, who believes the king should be able to do

whatever he likes, and Parliament, who want to limit King Charlie's powers and

stop him from just raising taxes whenever he wants to. But Charlie says

going to do it anyway.

And that means this country is heading towards an all -out civil war.

Your Majesty,

just because you are the king does not mean you can do whatever you like. You

can't just tax people willy -nilly.

On the contrary.

King of England, Isle of Scotland, so I have no limit.

I'm King Charlie. God gave me the right to do what I want and to rule with his

might. Tax my people whenever I like.

I don't need you to give me the green light.

To oppose me is a great sin. God works on this earth, myself and my kin. Don't

forget, boys, that I am the boss. To get rid of you wouldn't be a great loss.

We know you're the king, but we still think that there should be some limit.

That's why we are here to just advise you and to set some limits.

Don't forget I'm the one to make laws.

You may help me out, but the power's not yours.

I don't need them. I'll rule on my own. Or I might call them back in a decade or

so.

We must, we must take the power back.

I'll raise taxes to buy lots of boats. From the pizza pen dance way up to John

'Groats.

Use the ship tax to raise the money. I will make it the law to give cash to me.

Run the church, too. Crop the whole country. It's all right now. Let's have

boogie.

He might be the king, but we still think that there should be some limits.

We must, we must take some power back.

It's 1640.

And unbelievably, Parliament's now been closed for 11 years, thanks to Charles.

It's no wonder MPs like John Pym and Oliver Cromwell are furious.

I'm furious! And now the Scots are invading England.

Yikes! That's right, Charlie's going to need cash for an army to fight them. I

need cash for an army to fight them!

See? Told you.

Unfortunately for him, there's only one way he can raise that money, and that's

by Parliament agreeing to a tax, which means reopening Parliament.

But after being shut for 11 years, I don't think they're going to be in much

a mood to help the king.

Hey, gang, it's your boy, King Charles of England, Ireland and Scotland. Yeah,

that's right. I said Scotland.

What's up with those guys anyway?

Why do you think England?

That's not cool, Mick.

I'm going to raise a load of tax and pay for an army to sort you out. Hashtag,

I'm going to raise a load of tax and pay for an army to sort you out. What's

that, man?

We're going to go down to Parliament and tell them to raise the tax.

But they are not there, remember?

Henrietta, that's the wife, French princess, standard. You sent them all

years ago, Your Majesty.

I believe you said you didn't need those waste men holding you back. Lol, what

am I like?

That's fine, I'll just bring them back.

Parliament opened for business.

English Parliament refused to order a tax, so I sent them all back home again.

They were here for so little time, they're already calling it the Short

Parliament.

Parliament closed for business.

Well, there's more than one way to raise a tax. I am the King of England.

If only you were King of another country too.

Why? I'm the King of Ireland as well, and they've got their own Parliament.

I'll just get the money from them.

Time for war!

So, I raised the money for my army, and then my army got its bottom kicked by

the Scots.

Hashtag Merky Yikes. So I had to call English Parliament back. Parliament

reopened the business!

Not only did they refuse to raise the tax, but then they started passing laws

limit my powers.

Newsflash, guys. You can't limit my powers, because I'm the king!

Guess what?

I'm going to put on my big boy king pants, and then I'm going to come down

and arrest all of the ringleaders!

Okay. I went down to arrest Pym and the other ringleaders, but the birds had

flown. There's people arming themselves outside.

London is not to kill you right now. They would not go to war with their own

king. You are appointed faggot. Yeah, doesn't seem to be ending the argument

like it used to anymore.

Might be worth checking the weapon and gun battle for you in the hall, just in

case. And, uh, probably best not to let Parliament know we're doing that.

Yeah. Are you the mayor of Hull?

I am, yeah. Why?

Then open up in the name of the king.

The king?

These are dangerous times.

What with the king and parliament being ready to go to war with one another.

One's life could be in danger for saying the wrong thing to the wrong person.

If you let me finish.

What I was going to say is open up in the name of the king is the sort of

a chap might say if he were loyal to the king and wanted you to let him in.

I wonder, what sort of thing might you say to a person like that?

He wants to know if you're loyal to the king. Stay out of this, nosy Sarah.

Fine. So, are you loyal to the king?

I don't know.

Are you loyal to the king?

Anyone want to know if I'm loyal to the king?

No.

Fine by me. Make yourself useful.

So tell me, who are you?

I'm the Earl of Newcastle.

I'm not. Why would the Earl of Newcastle be visiting Holt? If I had to guess,

I'd say that the king wants to know if all the ammunition stored here in Holt

likely to end up in the hands of his enemies when civil war breaks out.

I am the...

John Savage.

He's the Earl of Newcastle.

Look, that pub's named after him. Oh, come on. What are the chances of that?

Right, listen, Sir John Fake Name. I don't know what's going on here, but I

trying to make a smoothie in there.

Now, we are mostly supporters of Parliament here, so I suggest that you

Fine. I'll go.

I'll go.

I spoke to the council.

It is private. Oh, hello there.

I am a weary old washerwoman hoping to rest her withered old legs upon a

store. No. Oh, for goodness sake.

I'm waiting.

I'm not sure that was an old woman.

It's 1642, and both sides, King Charles and Parliament, have recruited 20 ,000

soldiers.

Neither side is backing down, and now dodgy old Charlie is about to declare

on his own parliament.

What could possibly go wrong?

Yeah, yeah, welcome to Civil War's Big Frame, the show that proves that kings

and queens can get stuff wrong too, and nothing interferes with trying to start

a war more than when you've got trouble with wind.

Could we use a smaller flag, Your Majesty?

No.

What's wrong with this one? It's massive. That's what's wrong with it.

We need 20 men to put it up properly. Told you. Nonsense.

Outside in this field is the best place to declare war.

Yeah, not anymore, mate.

But I guess kings are used to raiding.

On the bright side, it's not a complete declaration fail.

Read on, Harold.

I just want to make a couple of changes to the wording.

A last -minute rewrite in the rain. What could possibly go wrong?

Now the problem.

On this day, the 22nd of...

1642. August. It says August. Sorry, the rain smudged the print.

Oh, the rain smudged the print.

Carry on, Harold. I'm sure you threw the worst of it.

I, Charles Stupid, King of England.

Charles Stupid?

Yeah, maybe not. Why would I have written that? Charles Stuart, King of

Come on! Sorry, your handwriting's all scribbly when you've changed it. Oh, it

was my fault. I'm not having a go. I just can't read it.

OK,

so apart from the weather and the words, I think that went pretty well. At least

the flag didn't fall down.

Not too soon. When a just declaring war goes that badly, imagine how well the

rest of this is going to go. We should use a smaller flag.

See you next time.

Great idea.

So, the civil war has started, people.

It's on.

And everyone's got to pick a side. It's so hard to choose.

What do you reckon?

Should I support the king and be a royalist cavalier? Or would I be better

as a parliamentarian roundhead?

Hmm. Choices, choices.

And even if I can pick a team, how will I know who else is on it? I might end up

fighting the wrong person, because frankly, on the battlefield, all the

are basically dressed the same.

Don't move.

Are you friend or foe?

Um, I mean, it's hard to tell.

What? Well, we're wearing similar clothes, so...

I don't really know.

All right, just tell me what side you're on. King or Parliament?

Why don't you tell me which side you're on? I asked first.

I fight for the English.

We're all fighting for the English, Mud for Brain. Eh?

I'm not going to let an enemy speak to me like that.

On the other hand, I probably would let somebody on my side say it, because then

it would just be friendly banter.

For the English!

This is really confusing.

All right.

Our side favours wearing red.

It's not going to work.

Both sides like red. Oh, our lot are all wearing like a white piece of paper in

the top of our hats so we can sort of see who's on our side.

We also have white paper. Oh, that's promising.

And our secret battle code words are... God with us! Hey, we're on the same

side!

Huzzah for Parliament!

Huzzah for us roundheads!

Oh, roundheads?

Royalist Cavalier. Oh, my gosh.

Wait, are you telling me we both chose the same code word and the same white

paper for our hats?

What are the chances? It's mad.

I can't believe it. Shall we do the... Yeah, go on then. Yeah, probably should.

God with us.

Do you want to tell him or shall I?

Forget it.

God save King Charlie.

I'm Charlotte Stanley, Countess of Derby, and I'm here with some more tips

how to communicate during a civil war.

It's time for another message in a bottle. Take that, parliamentarian

Nathaniel, is that really more important than me talking to my followers?

Well, we are under siege.

No, it isn't.

That's my sidekick and soldier, Nathaniel. He's just shooting at the

who are surrounded by... Nathaniel, can you please clean that up?

Welcome to your number one guide to all the latest tips and tricks on how to

pass messages during a civil war.

What a message has arrived.

Tip one, airmail.

Firing arrows through windows can be dangerous for the people inside, but

is a great way to send a letter in secret.

Lady in the tower, 242R.

How can I keep in touch with my boyfriend on the front line?

I've got you. Just because our men are at war doesn't mean you can't woo your

boo. Come here. Tip two. The secret way to woo.

Nathaniel. Yeah.

Read. Yeah. I can't. It's gibberish. Exactly.

Tip number two is write in code. That way it can't be read even if it falls

enemy hands.

Tip three. The old battle wax.

Roll your message up in wax or lead to the size of a basketball like this.

Don't shoot it, eat it.

Then, once Nathaniel finds your beloved, he simply drops his trousers and pokes

out your message.

Not doing that. Well then, Nathaniel, I think we might have to resort to tip

number four.

Tip four, grimmer than bum wax. Stick your message in an oozing, infected

Even if Nathaniel's a... arrested by the Roundheads, there's no way they'll go

poking around in a stinky scum factory.

You're not sticking your letter in my arrow. Yes, I am. Remember, matter

and I'll be back next time with more tips and tricks on message in a battle.

God save the King.

Thank you. Come here.

You leave my bum wound alone.

It's 1645 and the war is starting to swing our way.

Yes, Parliament, get in.

We're beating the King's forces and it's mostly thanks to General Fairfax and

his ultra -professional and super -organised new model army.

Right, I'm off to join up.

Yeah, it's the other way.

It's a new fighting force in turn. It's hard, it's professional and it's going

to blow the silly goatee right off of King Charles' face.

See, I'm General Fairfax and I'm here to tell you that if you want to be the

best... then you need to join the new model army. New model army.

Model? Great. I love toy soldiers.

It's not that kind of model army. New model army.

We're the first professional army in England. We pay a regular wage and we

use the most modern of warfare techniques.

Our soldiers travel all across the country to fight against King Charles,

wherever he may be.

Quite a shouty man, aren't you? New model army. You get to do all the things

modern soldier loves. Horse riding, hand -to -hand combat, and most of all...

Pray. We'll pray all day if we have to.

Doug, if you like God, piping, red flippy jacket, regular wages, arguing

politics, God, and mostly God, then you should join the New Model Army. When do

we get to play with our toy soldiers?

It's not that kind of model army. New Model Army.

Be the black.

Wow. We've seen the New Model Army in action at the battle. They absolutely

smashed it. But I'm not surprised. They haven't lost a battle yet.

Things are going so well that the king surrendered and he's been locked up.

Although keeping him locked up hasn't been easy. He's already escaped from

arrest at Hampton Court.

Still, what are the chances he'll try it again?

Hmm.

Going well, is it, sir?

Oh! Oh, sweet freedom!

My liberty is nigh. I can feel it!

Maybe trying to escape through the bars wasn't such a great idea, sire.

Nonsense. Why would you say anything like that?

Well, it's just that you've had your head stuck for some time now.

That is such a glass -half -empty way of looking at things, Ashburnham. Because

you could say that my head is completely free from the prison.

Yep, but a lot of your body's still inside the prison, sire.

Yes.

Right, new plan. Like the greasy sausage, we shall slip through their

We will head to the new forest, moving so fast that they'll be unable to keep a

hold of us.

Brilliant idea, Majesty. You might be forgetting one thing, though. Your head

stuck in a window. Will you stop being such a negative, Nellie? Everyone knows

that if the head can pass through a space, then the rest can follow, because

head is the biggest part of the body. So, here we go. One time, no thought.

we go.

Yee! Yee!

Ta -da! Ow.

I think that just applies to mice, sir. Why did you say anything there, Nash

Burnham? I did. My shoulder's stuck now and I'm in a huge amount of physical

pain. OK, right, Pansy, Pansy.

Earlier today, I took the precaution of summoning a manservant whose outrageous

clothing will distract from his face.

I'm talking a big, wide hat...

a fake beard and a wig and a big grey coat. So all I need then to do is

myself as him and... You mean this bloke? Yeah, we spotted him immediately.

You're not going anywhere now. Here's my plan. You go back to bed and you stay

here, locked up and ready to be executed.

Tell him, Ashburnham. It's a good plan, guard, if it weren't for one inescapable

fact.

Head in window.

I'm stucco, bucko.

You're not very stealthy.

Jess, look.

I don't know how you can eat at an execution, Sarah.

I'm much too excited.

Down with the king!

Haven't we had enough fighting over the last few years?

Isn't it time we put an end to the violence?

Let's all watch the king getting his head chopped off together.

I actually hope they don't kill him.

I quite like the king.

Anyway, it's too late. The parliamentarians have already signed his

warrant. There he is.

Get Charles, it's coming out!

Sorry.

Die!

Right, here we are.

The grand finale.

The big chop.

Ah! Hank is ready, Alice. Hanky ready, Sarah.

Oh, it looks like the execution is about to do it.

best in my warty uncle cannon, because they say the king's blood can cure all

sorts. Oh, what a lovely day.

It's not often you get to see a real live king on stage. Or a real king dead

stage, either.

Oh, mate.

Got a bit of king on your face.

What?

No, no, get your own.

R .I .P. King Charles I.

The only English king to ever be tried and executed.

He'll be sadly missed.

Although, obviously not by a lot of the people who were fighting him. So, who's

going to rule now?

Parliament or a new king?

I mean, I am available if there's a vacancy.

If it is a king, the most likely candidate is King Charles' son, who he

originally named Charles.

The Scots like him so much, they're already calling him King Charles II.

This new Charlie even raised an army to fight the parliamentarian army and their

new leader, Oliver Cromwell.

It looks like we've got another massive civil war on our hands.

Oh, no, wait.

There's been one big battle and it's over.

Charlie, too, has been defeated and he's on the run, just like his dad was.

Let's hope he has better luck.

Oliver Cromwell and his parliamentarians are now focused on the capture of the

new royalist leader, Charles II, to put an end to the civil war once and for

all. This is our target.

King Charles is done.

Prince Charles, crowned King Charles II by the Scots.

He's on the run,

and we can assume he's running to France.

Well, it won't be easy to find him. He's likely to be wearing some brilliant

disguise.

Charles II is blending in seamlessly in his disguise as a peasant.

Hello, hello, missy. Oh, I love a duck, or possibly a peasant.

All right, cool. Disguise is sorted.

Shall we pop in the royal carriage?

Ah, yes.

Now, I'm afraid we're going to have to walk, because peasants don't have

carriages. Really?

OK,

guys, new winter.

Now, we think he's somewhere in Shropshire, so we need to send teams to

the houses of any known royalist sympathisers in the area. Among the

be searched is Boskable House, where the king is said to be hiding.

We searched the house, but there's no sign of them.

I really thought we had them this time.

Ow.

Sorry. No problem.

Where could he be hiding?

He did a great job.

Thank you.

He was up the oak tree for a whole day.

All they needed to do was look up. And now I hear there's royalist sympathisers

thinking of naming their pub the Royal Oak.

I can't need reminding.

Since the incident with the oak tree, Charles has been moving from house to

house in what has become a massive game of hide and seek.

Your Majesty, it's time to move.

We're heading south for a boat to France.

Who are you talking to? Your Majesty, I thought you were hiding in the breeze

hall. Yeah, but I got bored and popped out for a spot of lunch.

Have you thought about putting a harpsichord in there? It might liven the

up a bit.

You don't think the noise might be a problem?

Yeah, it's true. When they play badly, they are awful.

No, I sort of more meant that people searching for you might be able to hear

Oh, yeah, right, that too.

OK, well, I'll pop on my travel crown and let's go.

Ah, yeah.

Maybe let me choose the disguise, Your Majesty.

Fine.

Take off the crown.

I'm not going to take off the crown.

Although the royalists must now accept defeat and the civil war is finally

officially over, Charles II has somehow managed to escape to France by boat.

I'm free!

I don't swallow, you idiots!

I finally take off this disgusting disguise.

Oh, you're the king.

Well, then, this trip will cost you 200 quid extra.

Seriously, come here.

Seriously, come on.

So, Charles II fled to Europe, the royalists were defeated, and we

parliamentarians had won.

Eventually, it was decided that we needed one person to take over as the

the country, but definitely not as king. And the person they decided on was me.

No, no, no, no, no. Not as king.

I'm not a king.

Pretty cool office, Dad. Thank you, Richard.

What's it like being king? Right, we've been through this. I am not the king.

I'm Lord Protector.

Very different.

No, of course.

It's just this whole palace gives me real kingy vibe.

I like it.

Well, whatever the vibe may be, I'm not the king.

What about your throne?

Throne? I've got a throne. You had one at your coronation. It wasn't a

coronation. Are you sure?

I was being inaugurated as Lord Protector.

And that throne you sat on? Wasn't a throne. Wasn't it used during Edward I's

coronation 400 years ago? And don't kings normally sit on... It wasn't a

I'm not the king.

The decorators need your colour selections for the revamp, Your Majesty.

He's not the king.

I mean, not, Your Majesty.

Why are you redecorating, Dad? Well, it's just nice to have something

after the last person moved out.

And who was the last person to live in Whitehall Palace before you again?

King Charles.

Look, it's just a house where the person who leads the country lives. It doesn't

mean I'm the king.

Ah, royal blue. Good choice.

Must be nice having a star in a palace.

Bit like being a... Don't say it.

Your scepter is back from the menders, Your Majesty.

Your Highness, your lowliness, your nobleness.

Squire! Just give it to me. I tried. Thank you.

It's funny, with that scepter, you really look like... Lord Protector.

Definitely not the king.

I mean, it does suit me.

And there you have it. That's the story of the English Civil War.

An extraordinary time of turmoil in British history. The only time a king

been tried and executed, and the only time we've had a Lord Protector.

Good times!

For a while, anyway.

What happened then, after I took charge?

Well, someone thought the best way to tell you about that was to do so in a

jaunty song sung by me.

You're welcome!

What was it good for?

Monarchy abolished.

There's a law.

What was it good for?

Royalty demolished.

Once we'd won and Charles lost his head, we became a commonwealth instead.

My new model army fought for the cause, I crushed rebellion and ripped on laws.

This old parliament became Lord Protector, like a king but without the

Zester. Protector rule was now what we were called, with a jolly little motto,

Peaceful War.

Civil War!

Huh! What was it you wore?

Monarchy disbanded.

Civil War!

Huh!

power expanded.

England and Wales is 12 little bits.

It didn't work out. Had to pull that quit. Thought making me king would be

solution, but I stayed. Look, protector with a new constitution.

Didn't last long. Debt was my fate. So sun and air, stepping up to the plate.

was a tough act to follow the great dictator. The army forced me out a year

later. Civil war.

What was it good for? Monarchy diminished.

There's a war.

Huh. What was it you fought? I thought we were finished.

But all the while I've been in exile, banished from my

home nation.

Then I got the call, they've had enough of war, and so began the

restoration.

I pardon crimes from Civil War times, I'm back, what's not to like? Well, they

dug me up, cut me up, and put my head on a spine!

Civil War!

Who was it you fought? Don't get me started.

Civil War!

Right, now where's the party?