“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.