Snippets

Evelyn

Olive continued. 'And when she stood in the dock, facing this Cussons in the witness box giving evidence against her, she still didn't betray him – even although it would cost her life?'

'That's right. She'd given up on life. She even said before the trial, "I expect I'll hang." I never saw her show much emotion.'

'That is tragic. How do you know she got the gun from Cussons?"

'She told her solicitor when he came to see her in the cell. The new solicitor, because she sacked Mr. Bickford the trial lawyer who was trying to get her reprieved. She told him she didn't want no reprieve and sacked him. She picked up again with the solicitor who handled her divorce from George Ellis; young chap by the name of Mishcon. Now he was a bright lad. He went along to see Mr. Bickford before he came in to see Ruth. Mr. Bickford was still working on getting her reprieved even though she'd sacked him. Mr. Mishcon came into the cell and spent two hours with her on the day before her execution. He stood up and looked at her and said. "Do you want your son to grow up not knowing the truth about what happened?" That did it for Ruth; she'd had a baby boy by a Canadian serviceman when she was seventeen. He'd promised to marry her, but did a flit before the wedding. (Sniff) Just as well 'cos he was already married with three kids of his own anyway. Ruth's son Andre was ten at the time. Her parents and sister Muriel were raising the boy, and she worried a lot about him. Mr. Mishcon pressed her button when he talked about Andre, and the true story came out of her. She tried getting the lawyer to promise not to say anything to anybody. He refused and reported straight back to Mr. Bickford who made an immediate appeal to the Home Secretary for clemency on the grounds of fresh evidence. It caused quite a hullaballoo it did, with a nation wide police search for Desmond Cussons. The police couldn't find Cussons in time to corroborate the story and in the middle of the night before the scheduled execution, Lloyd-George dismissed the appeal. People there at the time heard him say, "If she doesn't hang tomorrow, she never will."

There were tears in the presenter's eyes as she whispered, 'That's awful.' Taking a deep breath she regained her professional composure and calmly posed her next question.

"You were with her day and night for three weeks and right to the end. Was there anything she asked you to do, or for information or any favours?'

Evelyn chuckled. 'We were always truthful with her, but there was one thing which bothered her in the cell, and she asked about what it was for nearly every day, but we were under strict orders not to tell her.'

Evelyn spoke more quietly and Olive leaned forward to catch her next words.

'Ruth's bed was next to the door into the cell from the corridor. Apart from a small bedside table and the long table we all sat at, the only other thing in the room was a six-foot high green wardrobe affair against the wall to the next cell. She often asked what it was hiding, because there was no need for a wardrobe in the cell. We just laughed to pass it off and changed the subject."

'Was there anything behind the wardrobe?'

Evelyn tilted her head to one side and said coyly, 'The next cell.'

The director sensed there was more to this item lurking behind Evelyn's bashful behaviour. Olive missed his cue to pursue it further and moved on with a fresh question.

'This is as fascinating as it is awful, but I'm afraid we are running out of time. Would you tell us about the last morning please, Evelyn.'

The old lady sat quietly for several seconds, clenching and unclenching the hand holding the handkerchief on the counterpane in front of her, her eyes fixed on a point on the far wall. The silence in the room became palpable; nobody made a sound, the tension mounted until it fell away with a long sigh from Evelyn. She turned her head towards the presenter, her eyes glazed over and she answered the question in a firm, clear voice.

'Ruth knew there was no chance of a reprieve and appeared not to be bothered by it. We woke her early and got her washed and dressed. Ruth was always particular about her appearance. She put on a little rouge and powder from a silver box that chimed a popular French song, La Vie en Rose I think it's called. Normally she'd wear the regulation prison blue smock, but today she could wear her own clothes. She chose a nice white blouse and a navy skirt with black court shoes. She took care to brush her hair and was settled and unemotional. We didn't talk about what would happen later. Her breakfast came in, scrambled eggs, and she picked at it. I had another and unpleasant job to do before it was time. ...I had to persuade her to go to the lavatory and when she was there. I had to get her into some thick, padded calico knickers with tapes front and back to pull tight. This was a rule for condemned women ever since they had a problem with an execution in 1923. I felt awful. "I'm sorry Ruth." I said, holding up the knickers. She was a brick that one. 'No problems Evelyn, I'll get 'em on, then you pull on those tapes and I'll pull on these one's.' We went back into the cell and sat at the table to wait. I lit what was her last cigarette.

At a quarter to nine the deputy governor came in with the prison chaplain and they sat down at the table. Ruth was calm, collected and polite. She asked for a crucifix to be put on the wall of the chamber for her to focus on.

A nursing sister came in and offered her some brandy. Ruth refused and the sister tried twice more to get her to take it, telling Ruth it will calm her, but she didn't take it and the sister left with the brandy.'

Evelyn stopped to wipe her eyes, continuing her account in a softer voice. 'Just before nine Mr. Pierrepoint came in with his assistant, Mr. Pickard. At the same time warders shifted the green wardrobe screen to the side, showing the open door into the next small cell and the execution chamber beyond that, the noose was clearly visible.

That's when she lost it a bit, jumping up and knocking over her chair. Mr. Pierrepoint was like a benevolent uncle with her, "It's alright lass, sit yourself down," he said, all friendly like, and Ruth sat down. He went behind her and strapped her wrists together. "You come with me lass, it'll be alright," he said, then he led her into the chamber. Me and the other wardress followed behind Ruth, holding onto her elbows. Our job was to guide her onto the "T" mark Mr. Pierrepoint had chalked on the trap. I'll never forget how she turned round on that last walk; she looked me in the eye, smiled and said "Thank you Evelyn."

...Our job was done once Ruth was standing on the mark and we let go of her arms and stood clear of the trap. It was over quickly, they timed it, twelve seconds is all it took.

Mr. Pickard strapped her legs, Mr. Pierrepoint put a white hood over her face before he pulled the rope tight around the side of her neck and fixed the rubber washer in place. Then we saw him crouch down to take out the cotter pin safety catch with one hand and press down hard on the lever with the other. The trap opened with a bang and she was gone. It was so quick.' Evelyn took a deep breath and turned to face Olive with tears in her eyes. 'They should never have done it to her, not Ruth, she was a victim not a murderess like you said she was when you came in.'

Olive leaned across the bed, resting a hand lightly on the old lady's shoulder in an attempt to atone for upsetting her. 'I'm sorry Evelyn, I didn't know, but I know now. Nobody can harm her any more, she's in God's hands now.'

Evelyn brightened and flashed a smile at Ruth. 'Yes she is,' she spoke with a hint of relief in her voice. 'You'll never guess what Mr. Pierrepoint wrote in his book afterwards. He wrote, "she smiled at me when my fingers went through her hair as I fixed the hood over her face," and, "I've seen many brave men die, but none braver than her."

Evelyn's head dropped forwards, her hands came up to cover her face and her shoulders trembled. Loud sobs came from the old lady. The nurse moved in to comfort her and the matron touched the director's shoulders to attract his attention.

'I must ask you all to leave now. And please leave quickly,' she said, with a firmness in her voice that brooked no argument.

The director nodded his agreement; his were the last words spoken at the interview.

'Cut and print, ...that's a wrap.'