Foul Deeds and Suspicious Deaths in London's West End Page 11

  The Reverend James Hackman. Author’s collection

  He left the theatre, went to his lodgings in Duke’s Court, St Martin’s Lane and returned a little while later with a brace of loaded pistols, intending to kill himself in the presence of the woman he loved. When questioned later why he had a brace of pistols, he replied that if one misfired on himself, he meant to use the other. When the play was over Martha Reay, in the company of Signora Galli and Lord Coleraine, whom Hackman had taken for his rival, entered the lobby of the theatre, and it was there that Hackman first attempted to shoot himself, but the thickness of the crowd prevented him. He kept Miss Reay in view, until she was under the canopy in the piazza, on her way to her coach. He tried a second time to shoot himself, but a chairman, running suddenly against him, almost pushed him to the ground. Hackman recovered his composure and pursued Miss Reay to the door of her coach, Signora Galli was already seated inside it. It was not until he beheld Martha Reay’s face that he thought of killing her at that instant. He said that he decided it would be best for both to die together. He took a pistol from each pocket and stepping between Miss Reay and a gentleman, later identified as Mr Macnamara of Lincoln’s Inn, who had held out his arm to assist Miss Reay in getting into her carriage, she being on his right hand, Hackman discharged the pistol in his right hand first, and immediately afterwards discharged the pistol in his left hand at himself. Miss Reay was shot through the head. She, upon lifting her hand to her face, fell and died on the spot; but finding himself alive after he had shot at himself, and fallen also with his feet close to those of Miss Reay, Hackman beat his head with the pistol and called out, Kill me! Kill me! The explosion of the pistol shots alarmed several gentlemen nearby, who, fearing for their lives, immediately dispersed. Mr Macnamara was left for a few moments virtually alone amidst a scene of horror. Then several people came to his aid and Miss Reay was then carried to the Shakespeare Tavern and Hackman with her. Miss Reay’s lifeless body was taken to a separate room within the tavern while Hackman’s wounds were dressed in another. Hackman then enquired after Miss Reay and when he was told he had killed her he would not believe it, but said he was sure she was living, for that he only intended to kill himself. He freely gave his name and was shortly afterwards taken before the magistrate, Sir John Fielding (the celebrated blind magistrate, half-brother of lawyer and novelist Henry Fielding) who committed him to Tothill Fields Bridewell.

  Tothill Fields Prison, where Hackman was initially imprisoned following his arrest. Author’s collection

  When the news was brought to Lord Sandwich late that night it was said:

  His Lordship stood, as it were, petrified; till suddenly seizing a candle, he ran up stairs, and threw himself on the bed, and in an agony exclaimed, ‘Leave me for a while to myself – I could have borne any thing but this.’

  The Reverend James Hackman was transferred to Newgate Gaol. During his incarceration in Newgate, Hackman remained calm and composed and it is said that he spoke of the name and memory of Martha Reay with the highest rapture. Hackman wrote to his brother-in-law:

  I am alive – and she is dead. I shot her, shot her, and not myself. Some of her blood and brains is still upon my clothes. I don’t ask you to speak to me, I don’t ask you to look at me, only come hither and bring me a little poison, such as is strong enough. Upon my knees I beg, if your friendship for me ever was sincere, do, do bring me some poison.

  He had many visits from friends and family and he told them that, life since the lady was gone, would to him be a cruel punishment, and that death could only relieve him from a world wherein he should consider himself lost, since the only object that was dear to him was out of it, and whom he was thwarted on wholly possessing while in it.

  On the morning of his trial at the Old Bailey Sessions, before Mr Justice Blackstone, Hackman ate a hearty breakfast in Newgate, with his brother-in-law, and two of his friends in attendance. One of the friends went with him to the court but his other friend and his brother-in-law were too distraught to attend. Hackman was said to be overcome by his feelings as witnesses against him were giving their evidence, his deportment was noble and it was said that this gained him much admiration by both judge and jury. The evidence of the prosecution having being presented, Hackman was asked if he had anything to say in his defence. Rising from his chair and wiping a flood of tears from his eyes, he sighed deeply, then delivered the following speech:

  The Sessions House, Old Bailey, where Hackman was tried before Mr Justice Blackstone. Author’s collection

  My Lord. I should not have troubled the court with the examination of witnesses to support the charge against me, had I not thought that pleading guilty to the indictment would give an indication of contemning death, nor suitable to my present condition, and would, in some measure, make me accessory to a second peril of my life; and I likewise thought that the justice of my country ought to be satisfied, by suffering my offences to be proved, and the fact to be established by evidence.

  I stand here the most wretched of human beings! I confess myself criminal in a high degree; I acknowledge with shame and repentance that my determination against my own life was formal and complete. I protest, with that regard to truth which becomes my situation, that the will to destroy her who was ever dearer to me than life, was never mine, until a momentary phrenzy [sic] overcame me, and induced me to commit the deed I deplore. – The letter which I meant for my brother-in-law after my decease, will have its due weight as to this point, with good men.

  Before this dreadful act I trust nothing will be found in the tenor of my life, which the common charity of mankind will not readily excuse. I have no wish to avoid the punishment which the laws of my country appoint for my crime; but being already too unhappy to feel a punishment in death, or a satisfaction in life, I submit myself to the disposal and judgment of Almighty God, and to the consequences of the enquiry into my conduct and intention.

  The letter, written on 7 April, which had been found in Hackman’s pocket in the Shakespeare Tavern was then read out:

  My Dear Frederick,

  WHEN this reaches you I fhall be no more, but do not let my unhappy fate diftrefs you too much. I have ftrove againft it as long as poffible, but it now overpowers me. You know where my affections were placed; my having by fome means or other loft her’s, (an idea which I could not fupport) has driven me to madnefs. The world will condemn me, but your good heart will pity me. God blefs you, my dear Fred. Would I had a fum to leave you, to convince you of my great regard. You was my only friend. I have hid one circumftance from you which gives me great pain: I owe Mr Wright, of Gofport, one hundred pounds, for which he has the writings opf my houfes; but I hope in God when they are fold, and all other matters collected, there will be nearly enough to fettle our account. May Almighty God blefs you and yours, with comfort and happinefs, and may you ever be a ftranger to the pangs I now feel. May heaven protect my beloved woman, and forgive this act which alone could relieve me from a world of mifery I have long endured. Oh! If it fhould be in your power to do her any act of friendship, remember your faithful friend,

  J. HACKMAN.

  A plea of insanity was attempted by his defence but this was not accepted. The Reverend James Hackman was found guilty of murder and sentenced to death. Following the verdict, Lord Sandwich wrote to Hackman:

  17th April 1779

  TO MR HACKMAN IN NEWGATE

  If the murderer of Miss ____ wishes to live, the man he has most injured will use all his interest to procure his life.

  Hackman sent an immediate reply:

  The Condemned Cell in Newgate,

  17th April 1779.

  The murderer of her whom he preferred, far preferred to life, respects the hand from which he has just received such an offer as he neither desires nor deserves. His wishes are for death, not life. One wish he has. Could he be pardoned in this world by the man he has most injured – oh, my lord, when I meet her in another world enable me to tell her (if departed spirits are
not ignorant of earthly things) that you forgive us both, that you will be a father to her dear infants!

  J. H.

  There was to be no reprieve or pardon for the Reverend James Hackman. Justice was swift, for there were only twelve days between the murder and the murderer’s dissection. On 19 April 1779 Reverend James Hackman rose at 5 am, dressed himself, then spent some time in private contemplation. At 7 am, he was visited by some friends in the condemned cell, including James Boswell (1740–95, man of letters and friend and biographer of Dr Johnson), with whom he went to the chaplain and partook of the sacrament. On the journey from Newgate to Tyburn, Hackman was very subdued and spoke little. Boswell accompanied him in the mourning coach which a gentleman cleric was permitted to use instead of the usual cart to convey him to the place of execution. When he reached the dreaded triple tree, while waiting to be turned off, Hackman wrote a few last words in pencil:

  My Dear Charlie,

  farewell for ever in this world. I die a sincere Christian and Penitent, and everyting I hope you can wish me. Would it prevent my example’s having any bad effect if the world should know how I abhor my former ideas of suicide, my crime? ___ will be the best judge. Of her fame I charge you to be careful. My poorly will …

  Your dying H.

  The noose having been placed around his neck, Hackman was turned off by hangman Edward Dennis, and life, having at last been pronounced extinct, much as Hackman had wished, his body was left hanging for the customary one hour, before being taken to Surgeon’s Hall for dissection.

  Here is a portion of a Grub Street ballad on the tragedy:

  A Sandwich favourite was this fair

  And her he dearly loved:

  By whom six children had, we hear:

  This story fatal proved.

  O Clergyman! O wicked one!

  In Covent Garden shot her.

  No time to cry upon her God-

  It’s hoped He’s not forgot her.

  Anonymous

  Martha Reay was taken back to her native Hertfordshire, where she lies buried in Elstree.

  CHAPTER 9

  Assassination of the Prime Minister 1812

  After the body had been allowed to hang for the customary hour it was taken down and loaded onto a cart, and conveyed, followed by a large crowd, to St Bartholomew’s Hospital where it was dissected in the anatomical theatre before many spectators.

  At about a quarter past five on the evening of 11 May 1812, Prime Minister and First Lord of the Treasury, the Right Honourable Spencer Perceval, was on his way to the House of Commons. As the Prime Minister and his associates passed through the Lobby (which in the old houses of Parliament was opposite the south end of Westminster Hall), a thin-faced man, aged about forty, stepped forward, drew a pistol and shot the premier in the left breast. As the Prime Minister fell to the ground, he called out, ‘Murder!’

  The thin-faced man did not try to escape. When someone called out ‘Shut the door; let no one out!’ the man stood amidst the crowd that had gathered, and when a voice was heard to say, ‘Who was the rascal that did it?’ he came forward, still with the pistol in his hand, and said, ‘I am the unfortunate man.’ He was seized without resistance, and taken to the prison room of the Sergeant-at-Arms, where he was searched and questioned by several MPs. He had another pistol on his person, loaded and primed, and a copious bundle of letters and papers.

  John Bellingham (top image). Bellingham shooting the Prime Minister in the Lobby of the House of Commons, 11 May 1812. Author’s collection

  Meanwhile, Lord Osborne and Mr W Smith, the member for Norwich, who were walking behind the Prime Minister when the shot was fired, lifted the injured Premier and carried him into the nearby office of the Speaker’s secretary, where he shortly died.

  Spencer Perceval (1762–1812) was born in London. He was called to the bar in 1786 and became an MP in 1796. He was appointed Solicitor General in 1801 and Attorney General in 1802. From 1807 until 1809, when he succeeded the Duke of Portland as Prime Minister, he served as Chancellor of the Exchequer. At the time of his death, the Tory government, which he led, was firmly established.

  The assassin was taken to the bar of the House of Commons, where General Gascoyne, MP for Liverpool recognized him as John Bellingham, a former constituent, a man who had recently been a frequent visitor to the Commons, and from whom Gascoyne had received several petitions and memoranda, concerning his grievances with the Government over injustices he said he had received in Russia. It later became apparent that Bellingham had been seen in numerous lobbies and corridors and had made enquiries as to the identities of various Members. When asked what his motive was for shooting the Prime Minister, Bellingham replied:

  It was want of redress and denial of justice on the part of the government.

  John Bellingham grew up in London and worked for merchants in the Russian trade. He was sent on business to Archangel, where he remained for three years. On his return to England, he married a Miss Nevill, and when the opportunity arose to go to Archangel again, he took his wife with him, in 1804. In Archangel, Bellingham found himself involved in a complicated business dispute, which, apparently, through no fault of his own, left him in debt to some Russian merchants, in the sum of 2,000 roubles (about £200). He also faced a criminal suit in which he alleged in a letter that fraudulent transactions had taken place regarding the placement of insurance on certain ships’ cargoes. What he had intended to be a short visit was to last almost five years. He was detained in several prisons, at various times and on his release ordered to remain in Russia until the 2,000 roubles had been paid. He received help from the British Ambassador to Russia, Lord Granville Leveson-Gower and finally obtained permission to return to England in May 1809, where he became engaged in business in Liverpool, as an insurance broker. However, his experiences in Russia seemed to have unbalanced his mind and he became obsessed with receiving compensation for the British Ambassador to Russia’s failure to adequately defend his rights there. He wrote letters to the Privy Council. These letters were ultimately passed on to the Treasury, for the attention of the Chancellor of the Exchequer, who was at that time Spencer Perceval. Bellingham was clearly made aware of this, as, when Perceval chose to ignore them, and politely turned him down, Bellingham turned his attention to the local MP, General Gascoyne, who likewise chose to ignore Bellingham’s persistent requests. Bellingham even wrote to the Prince of Wales, who referred the letters to the Treasury.

  After three years of failure to secure the compensation he believed he was entitled to, Bellingham moved to London. He wrote a letter to the magistrates at Bow Street Police Court:

  Sirs, - I much regret it 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 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 to do so. 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

  9 New Millman Street

  March 23 1812

  Less than two months later Bellingham decided to bring his grievances to the attention of a wider audience and purchased a pair of pistols.

  Bellingha
m’s trial took place at the Sessions House, Old Bailey, on 15 May 1812, just four days after Perceval’s death, before Lord Chief Justice Mansfield. A commentator wrote:

  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 with 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 palliation of his atrocious act.

  Bellingham made a speech to the jury and rambled on for two hours. Although it appears by his actions that Bellingham was insane, and some witnesses said as much at the trial; and certainly many who have studied the case believe that to be so, he apparently showed no visible signs of insanity, at least not in the conventional sense of madness, as perceived at that time. Unless a person was obviously out of his mind, then a jury would have no alternative but to find a prisoner guilty, if they believed he had committed the crime for which he was being tried. Clearly in Bellingham’s case, when the judge asked the jury to consider if the prisoner was able to distinguish good from evil, right from wrong, they believed he was, because after just fourteen minutes of deliberation, they returned with a ‘Guilty’ verdict, and Bellingham was sentenced to death.