ATTACK ON KING WILLIAM IV. AT ASCOT HEATH,
On Tuesday, the 19th of June, 1832.
The Ascot Races for 1832 will be rendered memorable in the history of this country by reason of a stone thrown at his Majesty while on the grand stand at Ascot Races, which hit him on the forehead. The man by whom it was thrown was immediately secured, and proved to be Dennis Collins, a seaman with only one leg, formerly a pensioner of Greenwich Hospital, from whence he had been dismissed for ill-conduct. On his examination he confessed he committed the outrage in revenge because no notice had been taken of petitions which he had sent to the Lords of the Admiralty and the King. He was committed to Reading gaol to take his trial, which took place at Abingdon, on August 22nd. The jury returned a verdict of guilty on the fifth count, that of intending some bodily harm to his Majesty, but not guilty of the intent to kill.
Mr. Baron Gurney passed sentence on the prisoner, that he be drawn on a hurdle to the place of execution, and being hung by his neck until dead, his head be afterwards severed from his body, and his body divided into four pieces, and disposed of as his Majesty should think fit. His sentence was afterwards respited.
Nothing better than the above circumstance could have suited the producers and workers of street-literature. King William and Queen Adelaide were very popular at the time. “Yes, sir, we all did well out of that job of the wooden-legged sailor and old King Billy. It lasted out for months. We had something fresh nearly every day. We killed old Billy five or six times; then we made out that the sailor-chap was a love-child of the Sailor King and Madame Vestris; then that he was an old sweetheart of Queen Adelaide’s, and that he was jealous and annoyed at her a jilting of him and a-marrying of old King Billy, and so on. But it was an awful sell, and a robbery to us all, because they didn’t hang and cut the chap up into four quarters—that would have been a regular Godsend to us chaps, sir. But I think old Jemmy Catnach, as it was, must have cleared pretty nigh or quite fifty pounds for himself out of the job. A-talking about Madame Vestris, sir, reminds me that once we had a song about her, and the chorus was:—
“‘A hundred pounds reward
For the man that cut the legs above the knees
Belonging to Madame Vestris.’”
The year 1837 produced two sensational murders and executions. The first case—that of Pegsworth—made a great stir, particularly in the east part of London. It was on the evening of the 9th of January, 1837, that a most atrocious and cold-blooded murder was committed in Ratcliff Highway. The individual who suffered was Mr. John Holliday Ready, who for some time carried on the trade of a tailor, draper, and milliner. John Pegsworth, was a messenger in the tea department of St. Katherine’s Docks, he had formerly kept a small tobacconist’s shop in the same street, and had contracted a debt of £1 with Mr. Ready, who being unable to obtain payment, took out a summons against him in the Court of Requests, Osborne-street, Whitechapel. The court gave judgement against Pegsworth for the full amount and costs, which he was ordered to pay by instalments. On the evening of the same day Pegsworth proceeded to a cutler’s shop in Shadwell, where he bought a large pig-knife, armed with which he immediately repaired to the house of Mr. Ready for the purpose of executing his diabolical intention. He entered the shop, and having spoken to Mrs. Ready, passed on to the parlour and got into conversation with Mr. Ready. Pegsworth, although pressingly asked to do so, declined taking a seat, and after he had been talking about ten minutes in a calm and collected manner on the subject of the debt and the misfortunes he had met with in business, he pointedly asked Mr. Ready if he intended to enforce the payment of the debt? Ready said he should be compelled to issue an execution against his goods if the money was not paid. The words had scarcely left the lips of the unfortunate man than Pegsworth uttered some exclamation which is supposed to have been “Take that!” and plunged the knife with great force into his breast up to the hilt. Ready called out to his wife, “O, I am stabbed!” fell back in his chair, and almost immediately expired. Mrs. Ready, who saw Pegsworth move his arm, but was not aware her husband was stabbed until she saw him fall back, screamed aloud for assistance, and several of her neighbours rushed into the shop for the purpose of securing the murderer, who did not make the least attempt to escape, but having completed his purpose, withdrew the knife from the body of his victim, laid it on the table, and calmly awaited the arrival of the police.