Bellingham having, by some means or other, procured his liberation, in

the year 1809 returned to England, and at Liverpool commenced the

business of an insurance broker. It appears, however, that from a

constant recital of the circumstances which had occurred in Russia, his

complaints were aggravated in his own mind into grievances, and he at

length began to talk of demanding redress from the Government for what

he termed and appeared to consider the culpable misconduct of their

officer, Lord Gower, and his secretary, in omitting to defend his rights

as a British subject; and he eventually wrote to the Marquis Wellesley,

setting forth the nature of his case, and the grounds upon which he

expected that some compensation would be made. By the noble marquis he

was referred to the Privy Council, and by that body to the Treasury; but

his efforts being unattended with success in either quarter, he

determined to proceed to the Chancellor of the Exchequer (Mr.

Perceval), with a view to obtain his sanction and support for his

demand. Mr. Perceval, however, having made himself master of the case

submitted to him, declined to interfere, and Mr. Bellingham was then

advised by his friends that the only resource left to him was a petition

to parliament. As an inhabitant of Liverpool, he applied to General

Gascoyne, then member for that city, to present a petition to the house

of commons; but that honourable gentleman having ascertained upon

inquiry that the case was unsupported by the Chancellor of the

Exchequer, he refused to have anything to do with it. Driven now to

pursue a course quite unusual in such cases, he petitioned the Prince

Regent, but from him he was referred again to the Treasury, and he again

received an intimation that all applications from him must be futile.

Three years had now been spent in these constant and fruitless attacks

upon the government, but the unfortunate and misguided gentleman

appeared even yet to cherish hopes that his case would be attended to.

On one occasion, it is reported that he carried his wife, who had in

vain striven to wean him from what she considered to be his malady, and

another lady, to the secretary of state's office for the purpose of

showing them the success with which his exertions were attended; and

although he then, as he had before, received a flat denial of his

claims, yet he continued to assure them that he did not in the least

doubt that ere long all his hopes would be made good, and he would

receive compensation for his sufferings.

He now adopted a new and certainly an unprecedented mode of attack. He

wrote to the police magistrates of Bow-street in the following terms:--

"To their Worships, the Police Magistrates of the Public Office in

Bow-street.

"SIRS,--I much regret its being my lot to have to apply to your worships

under most peculiar and novel circumstances.--For the particulars of the

case, I refer to the enclosed letter of Mr. Secretary Ryder, the

notification from Mr. Perceval, and my petition to parliament, together

with the printed papers herewith. The affair requires no further remark,

than that I consider his majesty's government to have completely

endeavoured to close the door of justice, in declining to have, or even

to permit, my grievances to be brought before parliament, for redress,

which privilege is the birthright of every individual. The purport of

the present is, therefore, once more to solicit his majesty's ministers,

through your medium, to let what is right and proper be done in my

instance, which is all I require. Should this reasonable request be

finally denied, I shall then feel justified in executing justice

myself--in which case I shall be ready to argue the merits of so

reluctant a measure with his majesty's attorney-general, wherever and

whenever I may be called upon so to do in the hopes of averting so

abhorrent, but compulsive an alternative, I have the honour to be, Sirs,

your very humble and obedient servant,

"JOHN BELLINGHAM."

"No. 9, New Millman-street, March 23, 1812."

This letter was at once conveyed to the members of the government, but

it was treated by them as a mere threat, and no further notice was taken

of it, than on Mr. Bellingham's again presenting himself, by a fresh

refusal being given to him by Mr. Read. Once more he applied to the

Treasury, and again he was told that he had nothing to expect; and

according to his statement, Mr. Hill, whom he now saw, told him that he

might "resort to whatever measures he thought fit." This he declared he

considered "a _carte blanche_ to take justice into his own hands," and

he accordingly determined to take such measures of revenge as he madly

supposed would effectually secure that attention and consideration for

his case, which he deemed it had not received, and to which it was in

his opinion fully entitled.

This unhappy determination being made, he began to make the necessary

preparations for the foul deed which he contemplated. His first step was

to make himself acquainted with the persons of those ministers who had

seats in the House of Commons, and for this purpose he nightly visited

the House and there usually took his seat in the gallery appropriated to

strangers; and having obtained a general knowledge of their persons, he

afterwards posted himself in the lobby of the House, in order to be able

to identify them. He then purchased a pair of pistols, with powder and

ball, and had an additional pocket made in his coat for carrying them

the more conveniently.

On the evening of the 11th of May, 1812, he took his station behind the

folding-doors leading into the body of the House, and at five o'clock,

as Mr. Perceval advanced up the lobby, he presented one of his pistols

and fired. His aim was true, and the ball entered the left breast of his

victim and passed through his heart. Mr. Perceval reeled a short

distance, and exclaiming "Murder!" in a low tone of voice, he fell to

the ground. He was instantly picked up by Mr. Smith, the member for

Norwich, and another gentleman, and carried into the office of the

speaker's secretary, where he expired almost immediately. Loud cries of

"Shut the door--let no one out," were heard immediately after the shot

was fired, and several persons exclaimed, "Where's the murderer?"

Bellingham, who still held the pistol in his hand, answered, "I am the

unfortunate man," and he was immediately seized and searched. Mr. V. G.

Dowling was among the first who went up to him; and on his examining his

person, he found in his left-hand trousers pocket a pistol loaded with

ball and primed. There were also found upon him an opera-glass, with

which he had been accustomed to examine the persons of the members of

the House while sitting in the gallery, and a number of papers. Upon his

being interrogated as to his motives for committing such an act, he

replied, "Want of redress, and denial of justice."

During the momentary confusion which followed the firing of the pistol,

he made no attempt to escape; and though when taken into custody he

betrayed some agitation, he soon recovered his self-possession, and with

great calmness answered every question put to him.

During his examination before the magistrates up-stairs in the House of

Commons, he still retained his self-possession, and even corrected a

witness as to an omission in his evidence. He persisted in denying any

personal enmity to Mr. Perceval, for whose death he expressed the

greatest sorrow, separating, by a confusion of ideas, the man from the

minister; and seemed to think he had not injured the individual, though

he had taken away the life of the chancellor of the exchequer.

This event excited the greatest sensation in the country. A cabinet

council was called, and the mails were stopped, until instructions were

[Illustration: _Assassination of Perceval._

_P. 530_]

prepared to secure tranquillity in the districts; for at first it was

apprehended that the assassin was instigated by political motives, and

that he was connected with some treasonable association.

Measures being provided for securing order through the country and the

metropolis, Bellingham was removed, under a strong military escort,

about one o'clock in the morning, to Newgate, and conducted to a room

adjoining the chapel. One of the head turnkeys, and two other persons,

sat up with him all night. He retired to bed soon after his arrival at

the jail; but he was disturbed during the night, and had no sound sleep.

He rose soon after seven o'clock, and requested some tea for breakfast,

of which, however, he took but little. No private persons were admitted

to see him, but he was visited in the course of the day by the sheriffs

and some other public functionaries. He conversed very cheerfully with

the sheriffs and others who were in his room, and expressed no regret

for the deed which he had perpetrated, conceiving himself, as he stated,

justified in what he had done; and that it now only remained for the

laws of his country to determine the nature of his guilt, which he did

not seem to view in a criminal light. He stated that the question would

soon be tried, when it would be seen how far he was justified. He

considered the whole as "a private matter between him and the

government, who gave him a _carte blanche_ to do his worst, which he had

done."

Alderman Combe, as one of the committing magistrates, was very active in

his endeavours to trace Bellingham's connexions and habits, and for that

purpose went to the house of a respectable woman where he lodged in New

Millman-street, but could learn from her nothing that indicated any

conspiracy with others. His landlady represented him as a quiet

inoffensive man, though at times rather eccentric, which she instanced

by observing, that when he had lodged there only three weeks, at 10_s._

6_d._ per week, she was surprised to find that he had given her

servant-maid half-a-guinea for herself. On being told the deed which he

had perpetrated at five o'clock, on Monday the 11th of May, 1812, she

said that was impossible; for that she had met him a few minutes before

that time, when he told her, that he had just been to buy a prayer-book.

She represented him as of a religious turn of mind.

In jail the prisoner requested to have pen, ink, and paper, to write

some letters to his friends; and he accordingly wrote one to his family

at Liverpool, which was delivered open to Mr. Newman. The following was

sent to Mrs. Roberts, No. 9, New Millman-street, the lady at whose house

he lodged. It will serve to show the state of his mind in the miserable

situation to which he had reduced himself:

"Tuesday morning, Old Bailey.

"DEAR MADAM,--Yesterday midnight I was escorted to this neighbourhood by

a noble troop of Light Horse, and delivered into the care of Mr. Newman

(by Mr. Taylor, the magistrate, and M. P.) as a state prisoner of the

first class. For eight years I have never found my mind so tranquil as

since this melancholy but necessary catastrophe: as the merits or

demerits of my peculiar case must be regularly unfolded in a criminal

court of justice to ascertain the guilty party, by a jury of my country.

I have to request the favour of you to send me three or four shirts,

some cravats, handkerchiefs, night-caps, stockings, &c., out of my

drawers, together with comb, soap, tooth-brush, with any other trifle

that presents itself which you think I may have occasion for, and

inclose them in my leather trunk, and the key please to send sealed, per

bearer; also my great-coat, flannel gown, and black waistcoat: which

will much oblige,

"Dear madam, your very obedient servant,

"JOHN BELLINGHAM.

"To the above please to add the prayer-books.

"TO MRS. ROBERTS."

Soon after two o'clock the wretched prisoner ate a hearty dinner, and

requested that in future he might dine at about the same hour; and after

passing the rest of the day in a tranquil manner, he retired to bed at

twelve, and slept until seven the next morning, being attended by two

persons during the night. He breakfasted at about nine o'clock, and

appeared perfectly composed; and on the sheriffs revisiting him,

accompanied by several gentlemen, he was found to be unaltered in his

demeanour. On his being spoken to on the subject of his trial, he

conversed with apparent indifference; but on the melancholy fact of Mr.

Perceval's murder being alluded to, he became less tranquil, persisted

in vindicating the act, and said that when his trial came on before a

jury of his countrymen, it would be for them to determine how far a

minister of the crown was justified in refusing justice to an injured

individual; and he declared that if he had a thousand lives to lose, he

would have risked them in pursuit of justice in the same way. He spoke

of the result of his trial with the utmost confidence; and on his being

asked whether he had any commands to his wife at Liverpool, he declared

that he had not, and that in a day or two he should join her in that

city.

On the 15th of May, 1812, four days after the death of Mr. Perceval, the

trial of the prisoner came on at the Old Bailey. The judges at ten

o'clock took their seats on each side of the lord mayor; and the

recorder, the Duke of Clarence, the Marquis Wellesley, and almost all

the aldermen of the city of London, occupied the bench. The court was

crowded to excess, and no distinction of rank was observed; so that

members of the house of commons were forced to mingle in the throng.

There were also present a great number of ladies, all led by the most

intense curiosity to behold the assassin, and to hear what he might urge

in defence or in palliation of his atrocious act.

At length Bellingham appeared, and advanced to the bar with a firm step,

and quite undismayed. He bowed to the court most respectfully, and even

gracefully; and it is impossible to describe the impression which his

appearance, accompanied by this unexpected fortitude, produced. He was

dressed in a light brown surtout coat, and striped yellow waistcoat; his

hair plainly dressed, and without powder.

Before the prisoner was called on regularly to plead, Mr. Alley, his

counsel, made application to have the trial postponed, for the purpose

of procuring proofs of his client's insanity, which was alleged in two

affidavits he held; and he said that he had no doubt, if time were

allowed, that the prisoner could be proved to be insane. Mr. Alley was

here interrupted by the court, who refused to hear him until the

prisoner had first pleaded.

When the indictment was read, the usual question, "Guilty, or not

guilty?" was put to Bellingham; when he addressed the court:--"My

lords,--Before I can plead to this indictment, I must state, in justice

to myself, that by hurrying on my trial I am placed in a most

remarkable situation. It so happens that my prosecutors are actually the

witnesses against me. All the documents on which alone I could rest my

defence have been taken from me, and are now in possession of the crown.

It is only two days since I was told to prepare for my defence; and when

I asked for my papers, I was told they could not be given up. It is

therefore, my lords, rendered utterly impossible for me to go into my

justification; and under the circumstances in which I find myself, a

trial is absolutely useless. The papers are to be given to me after the

trial, but how can that avail me for my defence? I am, therefore, not

ready for my trial."

The attorney-general was proceeding to explain to the court what had

been done with reference to the prisoner's papers, when--

Chief-justice Mansfield interrupted him, observing, it was necessary the

prisoner should first plead.

The prisoner was again interrogated, when he pleaded "Not guilty" to

both counts of the indictment.

The attorney-general--"I will now answer what has fallen from the

prisoner. He says, that he has been denied access to his papers. It is

true that government, for the purposes of justice, has retained

them--but it is also true, that he has been informed that if he asked

for them at the time of his trial they should be ready; and any of them,

which he might think useful to his defence, should be given to him; and

in the mean time, if he considered it necessary, he might have copies of

them. This we are ready to verify on oath."

The clerk of the arraigns, Mr. Shelton, then read the indictment, which

charged the prisoner in the usual way with the murder of the Right Hon.

Spencer Perceval, with which he was also charged on the coroner's

inquisition.

Mr. Abbott having opened the case,

The Attorney-general addressed the jury. He said that a lamentable and

painful task devolved upon him to state to the jury the circumstances of

this horrid murder,--a crime perpetrated on a man whose whole life, he

should have thought, would have guarded and protected him against such

an attack--who, he was sure, if enough of life had been left him to see

by whose hand he had fallen, would have spent his last moment in

uttering a prayer for the forgiveness of his murderer. But it was not a

time for him to dwell on the public loss, which had been sustained,--its

brightest ornament had been torn from the country--but the country had

done justice to his memory. These were not considerations, however, by

which they must be swayed. It was not revenge, nor was it resentment,

that ought to have any influence on their consideration of the question.

They were to satisfy public justice--to take care, by their verdict,

that the public should not be exposed to such horrid crimes. With

respect to the prisoner, he knew nothing; nor did he know how his life

had been spent, except so far as related to the circumstances of the

case. He had been in business, and had acted as a merchant, in the

course of which he had shown himself a man of sound understanding in

every act which he performed; and he had not only conducted his own

affairs with understanding, but he had been selected by other persons to

manage theirs. Having stated the main facts of the case as we have

already detailed them, he entreated the jury to consider it not as the

murder of so eminent a person, but as the murder of a common

individual--to suppose the meanest subject to have suffered as Mr.

Perceval had suffered, and to return their verdict as they would upon

that case. Was he or was he not guilty?--to that point they must direct

their attention, and he knew of no reason to cause even a doubt. But

what remained? This only,--the attempt which had been made that day to

put off the trial of the prisoner, on the ground of his being fit for

this or any other crime, as he was afflicted with insanity. Let them

consider this a little. The prisoner was a man conducting himself like

others in all the ordinary circumstances of life--who carried on

business, none of his family or friends interfering--no pretence being

suggested that he was unable to superintend his own affairs. What

clearer proofs, then, could be given to show, contrary to the defence

set up, that he was not what the law called _non compos mentis_--that he

was an accountable being? He knew the cases where the plea of insanity

would be received--where for instance a murder was committed by a person

whose mental infirmity might be considered as very nearly the absence of

all mind. Against their defence there was no argument. But he was this

day to learn, whether the wickedness of the act which the prisoner was

called on to answer was to be considered an excuse for its perpetration.

Travelling through his whole life, what ground could they adduce for

such a plea? His every act appeared rational, except one; and that was

only irrational, because it was so horrid that the imagination of man

could not fancy to itself the existence of so atrocious a deed. But how

far must this argument go? It must arrive at this conclusion--that every

act of gross and unusual atrocity would carry its defence along with it,

that every act of peculiar horror would have within itself a certain

defence, for the barbarity of the deed would be considered as a proof

that the mind which directed it was not in a state of sufficient

security to judge whether the action was right or wrong; and if the mind

possessed the power of forming that judgment, the prisoner was

criminally accountable for the act. A man might be infirm in mind,

insufficient to dispose of his property, or to judge of the claims of

his respective relatives; and if he were in that situation, the

management of his affairs might be taken from him and vested in

trustees: but such a man was not discharged from criminal acts because

he could not transact civil business. Many cases had occurred within his

memory in courts of law, in which it was proved that a person in many

respects had evinced symptoms of insanity up to a certain time; but the

question then was, whether that insanity was of such a description as

precluded or permitted the knowledge of right or wrong? In every one of

the cases which recurred to his memory, though a certain degree of

madness was proved, still as the parties seemed to have sufficient sense

to distinguish right from wrong at the time of the perpetration of the

acts charged against them, they were held to be criminally accountable.

Here there was no deficiency of understanding whatever--no opinion of

others to that effect was adduced; on the contrary, he was entrusted

with the management of his own and others' affairs. The question was,

whether at the time the murder was perpetrated he possessed sufficient

sense to distinguish between right and wrong? What conclusion could they

draw in favour of the idea which had been suggested? Let them take from

their recollection the frightful nature of the act with the commission

of which he was charged, let them take from it its accumulated horrors,

and the prisoner stood before them in a state of sanity, and fully

accountable for the act, of which, he thought, little doubt could be

entertained he had been guilty.--The learned gentleman concluded by

expressing his satisfaction at the fact that the prisoner stood alone on

that occasion; that he was unconnected with, and unaided and

uninfluenced by any other person or party in the country, and that this

deed could not therefore be attributed to any but the personal feelings

which he entertained towards his majesty's government. On him, and on

him only, did the disgrace which he had excited rest, and the character

of the country was entirely free from any participation in it.

The first witness called on the part of the crown was--

Mr. William Smith (M. P. for Norwich), who, being sworn, deposed as

follows:--

The Chronicles of Crime or The New Newgate Calendar. v. 1/2 being a series of memoirs and anecdotes of notorious characters who have outraged the laws of Great Britain from the earliest period to 1841. · 第 74 / 83 段