The second shot didn’t miss, however. As Blakely fell to the floor, Ruth fired a further three times. The abusive racing driver was dead. When Ellis was arrested, she said to the off-duty policeman, “I am guilty. I am a little confused.”
The Breezer - the joyride for a curious mind: A weekly newsletter from Steve Winduss at the Batting the Breeze podcast. Spend a few minutes with me discovering historical snippets and fascinating facts related to the forthcoming week. Add to that updates relating to the podcast, a touch of humour and a dash of "lots more".15th June 2025.
Happy Sunday! I mentioned recently that I had been devouring John Grisham novels at a prodigious rate. This is all the more remarkable as I had originally dismissed John Grisham entirely. My bad. Many of Grisham’s books are set in the US southern states and invariably involve a court case with the leading character saving his client from the gallows. The most recent Grisham book I have finished is The Chamber, an enthralling exposé of the life of a convict on death row, examining the kaleidoscope of issues that surface when a state decides to execute a human being. In the United States today, 23 states have abolished the death penalty. Of the remaining 27, four have suspended executions, though not legally abolished. In 2024, 25 executions were carried out across nine states, with Alabama, Texas, Missouri and Oklahoma accounting for 19 of these. The number of total executions in the United States has consistently fallen from a peak of 1,676 in the 1930s.
Ruth Neilson was born in 1926 in Rhyl, North Wales. Neilson’s early life was traumatic and abusive. Her sister had conceived a child by the age of 14 by her father. Ruth suffered similar abuse. Neilson left school at the age of 14, and her grotty start to life continued on a miserable downward trajectory. She gave birth to a Canadian soldier’s child in 1944, aged 17. To pay for her child, she turned to nude modelling, which drifted into prostitution. In 1950, Ruth married George Ellis, described as a ‘violent and possessive alcoholic’. A second child followed. A short time later, Ruth and George separated. Ruth Ellis, as she was then, met racing car driver David Blakely in 1953. In common with previous experiences, their relationship was characterised by infidelity and violence. The drinking and physical abuse increased. Within 18 months, Ellis was emotionally broken. On 10 April 1955, Ellis stalked Blakely as he left a party to pick up more beer from the Magdala Tavern, Hampstead, close by. As Blakely exited the pub and approached his car, Ellis stepped out of the shadows, aimed a revolver at him and fired. She missed.
The Magdala Tavern, Hampstead, site of Ruth Ellis’ murder of David Blakely in 1955.
The second shot didn’t miss, however. As Blakely fell to the floor, Ruth fired a further three times. The abusive racing driver was dead. When Ellis was arrested, she said to the off-duty policeman, “I am guilty. I am a little confused.” Seventy years ago this coming Saturday, 21 June 1955, Ruth Ellis was found guilty of murder. Three weeks later, she became the last woman ever to be executed in the United Kingdom.
Public sentiment in the United Kingdom toward capital punishment had waned since Derek Bentley was hanged two years earlier in 1953. His trial was one of the most controversial in British legal history. Bentley was known to be intellectually impaired. In the previous November, he had joined his friend Christopher Craig to attempt a warehouse robbery in Croydon, South London. Craig was carrying a Colt .45 revolver. The two were cornered by police while on the warehouse roof. The police managed to detain Bentley, while Craig remained on the roof. As Bentley watched on from below, he would utter five immortal words that would lead to his execution:
Let him have it, Chris.
Chris heard the cry and fired his gun. Moments later, Police Constable Sidney Miles fell to the ground and died. At Bentley’s trial, the defence claimed that his cry meant Craig should give his revolver to the police. The prosecution was clear that Bentley had goaded his friend to shoot at them. The jury agreed with the prosecution and David Bentley was hanged in January 1953. Forty years later in 1993, Bentley would receive a posthumous pardon. The Court of Appeal agreed that he should not have been hanged, though the murder conviction remained. Another five years later, Bentley’s conviction was also quashed.
The grave of Derek Bentley, hanged in 1953.
The British public cried foul at the Bentley case. By the time Ruth Ellis was tried two years later, a ground swell of opinion was against her execution. However, her admission of guilt left no room for any other verdict. Ellis was hanged on 13 July 1955 at 09:00. A further nine years would pass before the Murder (Abolition of Death Penalty) Act 1965 outlawed the death penalty. The Bentley and Ellis cases are cited as the two which ultimately forced the eventual decision. Five more executions were carried out after Ruth Ellis, all men. Gwynne Evans and Peter Allen were hanged simultaneously on 13 August 1964 at 08:00, the last two people to be executed in the UK.
Dates with History
Foundations of history…
This week marks the beginning of construction on three distinguished European historical sites. The foundation stone for London’s St Paul’s Cathedral was laid 350 years ago this coming Saturday, 21 June 1675. Charles II appointed the celebrated architect Sir Christopher Wren to redesign the original structure, which was consumed by the Great Fire of London in 1666.
St Paul’s Cathedral nave.
Construction started on Blenheim Palace 320 years ago this Wednesday, 18 June 1705. Today, the palace is a UNESCO World Heritage Site and remains the ancestral seat of the Churchill family and birthplace of Sir Winston Churchill, grandson of the 7th Duke of Marlborough.
Blenheim Palace from the Water Terraces.
France had been defeated in the 1870-71 Franco-Prussian War. Napoleon III had been captured, paving the way for a short-lived, tumultuous and anarchic Paris Commune. The French nation was grappling with a sense of a steady moral decline which had emerged following the 1789 revolution. Cardinal Guibert laid the foundation stone of the Basilica of Sacré-Coeur 150 years ago tomorrow, 16 June 1875, on the most prominent position at the top of Montmartre, the highest point in Paris. The basilica was built as a symbol of national penance, to seek renewal and to inspire and unify future generations.
La Basilique du Sacré-Cœur de Montmartre, Paris.
Tuesday…
Ten years after the foundation stone of the Sacré-Coeur was laid, the French navy ship Isère arrived in New York Harbor 140 years ago this Tuesday, 17 June 1885, to deliver a special package. The Isère had transported the Statue of Liberty from Rouen in France, a gift from the people of France to the United States to commemorate the centennial of American independence and to embody the enduring relationship between the two nations. If you’re thinking that 1776 to 1885 isn’t 100 years, you’re correct. Due to the financial constraints imposed largely by the Franco-Prussian War mentioned earlier, the statue was delivered a decade late. The statue arrived in 350 pieces, packed into over 200 crates. It stood 151 feet tall when assembled (without the base, which was completed a year later). The structure was designed by the French sculptor Frédéric-Auguste Bartholdi and the internal structure engineered by Gustav Eiffel. The cornerstone of the Eiffel Tower in Paris would be laid in January 1887, three months after the Statue of Liberty opened to the public.
Statue of Liberty being loaded onto the Isère in Rouen, France, 1885. Illustration by Hauger, 1885.
Wednesday…
Napoleon Bonaparte had waged war on Europe over two decades since 1792, at one point claiming control of nearly the entire continent, with the exception of the Balkans and Britain. But in 1815, Napoleon met his Waterloo. Napoleon’s Imperial French Army was squaring up to a European coalition of British, Dutch, Belgian and German troops, led by Marshal Gebhard von Blücher and the Duke of Wellington. Towards late afternoon, Wellington’s men had valiantly held their position near the village of Waterloo in present-day Belgium. As Napoleon unleashed his decisive offensive, Blücher’s Prussians arrived on his flank. The Imperial French Army was routed and Napoleon fled.
Battle of Waterloo, 1815. Portrait by William Sadler.
Two hundred and ten years ago this Wednesday, 18 June 1815, the Battle of Waterloo marked the end of the Napoleonic Wars and the downfall of Napoleon. The fallen Emperor was forced to abdicate and the British banished him to the remote island of Saint Helena in the South Atlantic Ocean, where he remained until his death in 1821.
By the Way
Epithet noun An adjective added to a person’s name or a phrase used instead of it, usually to criticise or praise them. CAMBRIDGE DICTIONARY
In the heyday of the epithet, roughly any time in history up to the end of the medieval period, middle and last names were not strictly observed. This encouraged the artful selection of some colourful nouns to differentiate one individual from another. Alexander the Great (356 to 323 BCE) gained his lasting epithet about 100 years after his death, in recognition of his extraordinary empire-building from Greece as far as northwest India. Alexander was only 32 years old when he died. Louis the Pious (778 to 840), so called for his commitment to developing the Holy Roman Empire (or perhaps for his completed lack of a sense of humour), died 1185 years ago this Friday, 20 June 840, while Philip the Good (1396 to 1467), Duke of Burgundy, was celebrated as a ruler who brought prosperity and stability to his people. Today marks the anniversary of his death on 15 June 1467. Frederick Barbarossa (c1122 to 1190) was one of the most prominent of the 47 Holy Roman Emperors, crowned 870 years ago this Wednesday, 18 June 1155. He earned his epithet as a result of his distinctive red beard (‘Barbarossa’ translating from ‘Redbeard’ in Italian).
Frederick Barbarossa, c1170; coloured copper plate by Christian Siedentopf, 1847.
Barbarossa’s legacy was to stand as a symbol for German unification (achieved in 1871). As each year passed, the legend grew stronger that Barbarossa had not actually died but was sleeping somewhere in the Kyffhäuser Mountains, awaiting his moment to awaken and unite the German people. The legend was so strong that when Hitler invaded the Soviet Union in 1941, he named the campaign 'Operation Barbarossa'. Sometimes, epithets can be misleading. Ivan the Terrible was not so terrible, but more formidable, as a better translation of the Russian word ‘Grozny’ would have revealed. The English King Æthelred II (reigned 978-1016) is referred to as Æthelred the Unready. However, ‘unready’ translates to ‘poorly advised’ rather than ‘poorly prepared’. To complicate matters, Æthelred translates to ‘well-advised’. So Æthelred was actually 'well-advised the poorly advised'. Of course, epithets can reflect both the negative and positive attributes of an individual. Vlad the Impaler (c1430 to c1476) really did earn his moniker by impaling enemies on wooden stakes as a gruesome warning to others. King Harald Bluetooth Gormsson (c910 to c985), a 10th-century Viking King, is thought to have lived with a decaying, discoloured tooth that appeared blue for many years.
Out of Curiosity
The modern wireless technology Bluetooth was named after King Harald. Harald was remembered for uniting much of Denmark and Norway into a single kingdom. Intel, Nokia and Ericsson - who developed a short-range wireless technology in 1994 - used ‘Bluetooth’ as a code name for the project, symbolising that the technology would universally link computers, phones and other devices. As it turned out, no one came up with a better name, so it stuck. Further, the Bluetooth logo is based on the initials ‘HB’ from Harald Bluetooth. The design merges two runes from the Younger Futhark, a runic alphabet used in Scandinavia during the Viking Age:
Hagall (ᚼ): Represents the letter "H"
Bjarkan (ᛒ): Represents the letter "B"
Epithets tend to distil an individual’s life achievements down to a single trait, whereby any other achievements are completely bypassed. So, if your epithet was on the derogatory side, then your legacy was doomed, regardless of how much good you brought to the world. Imagine then the frustration of Charles the Fat (839 to 888), who would be remembered for his large body size and gluttony, rather than for being crowned emperor of the Holy Roman Empire in 881. Further frustration awaited Louis the Stammerer (846 to 879), eldest son of Charles the Fat, who lived with a speech impediment, and Alfonso the Slobberer (1171 to 1230), the 13th-century King of León in the northwest of Spain, who foamed at the mouth during regular fits of rage. And finally, there’s my favourite; William the Hairy (840 to 897) from Barcelona, who was described as being "hairy in places not normally so in men". William’s hirsute body will be remembered far beyond his achievements regarding the unification of the Catalan region of northeastern Spain.
You see these ships? I built these ships. Do they call me Juan the Shipbuilder? No. You see these houses? I built these houses. Do they call me Juan the Housebuilder? No.
But I kiss one pig… ANON
Question of the Week
By 1215, King John was in trouble. England was on the brink of a civil war. This was long before ‘no taxation without representation’ but John had managed to stir a rebellion among his barons through an overburden of tax. William the Conqueror had introduced the feudal system after his victory at the Battle of Hastings in 1066. He created a hierarchical network, granting large estates to barons in exchange for their loyalty. They, in turn, would rule over their barony and everyone would be happy. But even the barons had their breaking point.
Richmond Castle in North Yorkshire was built by the baron Alan Rufus, having been gifted the land by William the Conqueror. The baron fought alongside William I in the Battle of Hastings in 1066. Alan Rufus built the castle on the land soon after. Richmond Castle is one of the best-preserved Norman castles in England today.
The inept and unpopular King John was forced to sign an agreement to placate the barons’ grievances. The treaty confirmed that all men had a right to a fair trial, that the king was not beyond the rule of law, and by association that he couldn’t levy taxes at will. Although the charter needed modifications after King John’s death a year later, it would become a symbol of liberty, of the rule of law and of the rights of the individual around the world. The document influenced the English Bill of Rights 1689, the US Constitution signed in 1787, and the Universal Declaration of Human Rights adopted by the United Nations General Assembly in 1948. What was the document called?
And Finally…
Since we’ve talked about epithets today, I have an excuse to slip in an aptronym, the cousin of the epithet, to finish today.
Aptronym noun A person’s name that matches their job or one of their main characteristics. CAMBRIDGE DICTIONARY
Jaime Sin was born in Aklan, the Philippines, in 1928. He was the 14th of 16 children, which probably accounts for his renowned sense of humour. Sin was a strong moral voice speaking out against repression and corruption. He was also a pivotal figure in the peaceful deposition of the dictator Ferdinand Marcos in 1986. Jaime had been appointed Archbishop of Manila in 1974 and a Cardinal by Pope Paul VI two years later. Cardinal Sin died twenty years ago next Saturday, 21 June 2005.
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Steve
HOST & CHIEF STORY HUNTER
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King John applied his seal to the Magna Carta 810 years ago today, 15 June 1215. The charter’s validity was rejected by Pope Innocent III, leading to a civil war between King John and the barons. John died of dysentery during the war in 1216. His son and successor, King Henry III, revised the charter several times, but it was only in 1297 under the rule of King Edward I that the Magna Carta was finally enshrined in English statute law.
ATTRIBUTIONS
The Magdala Tavern, site of Ruth Ellis’ murder of David Blakely, 1955: Mike Quinn.
The grave of Derek Bentley, hanged in 1953, CC by 2.0, Steve Brown, bullpointer.
Blenheim Palace from the Water Terraces: DeFacto, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons.
La Basilique du Sacré-Cœur de Montmartre, Paris: Terragio67, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons.
Statue of Liberty being loaded onto the Isère in Rouen, France, 1885. Illustration by Hauger, 1885: Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.
Battle of Waterloo, 1815. Portrait by William Sadler, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.
Frederick Barbarossa, c1170; coloured copper plate by Christian Siedentopf, 1847: artwork: Christian Siedentopf; file: James Steakley, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.
Richmond Castle in North Yorkshire was built by Baron Alan Rufus, having been gifted the land by William the Conqueror. The baron fought alongside William I in the Battle of Hastings in 1066. Alan Rufus built the castle on the land soon after. Richmond Castle is one of the best-preserved Norman castles in England today: Tilman2007, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons.
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