Ye Olde Blue Bell

After a bite to eat this evening, I walked in the direction of the hotel. And then turned around And walked in the opposite direction. I had coke with the meal, so thought a walk to the Blue Bell was in order. 

I only had a pint of stout, since I need to be coherent at work in the morning, but it would have been wrong not to take the opportunity to visit a Sam Smith’s pub. And I’m quite fond of this particular pub. 

While there, I learned more of its history. It opened in the early 1700s, on the site of the Old Dog. There have been two related murders, the first a landlord’s daughter the the mid-1800s, the second more recently in 1944. 

The landlord’s daughter wasn’t actually murdered in the pub; the act was committed in a nearby pub, over a glass of lemonade. By her fiance en route to their wedding. He cut her throat with a razor. 

It didn’t end too well for the fiance either; he was hanged, with a 9ft drop, in Manchester. The latter murder did occur in the pub though. An American servicemen had made comments about British forces. And a British soldier wasn’t impressed and stabbed him. The latter was court martialled, but his fate wasn’t stated. I may need to carry out further research. 

It was an educational pint of stout.