CHAPTER II.
Accident at a Review—The King shot at, at Drury Lane Theatre—Behaviour of the Royal Family—Biography of Hadfield—His trial and acquittal—Grand Review of Volunteers on the King’s birthday—The bad weather, and behaviour of the crowd.
ON THE 15th of May, the King, who, while his health was good, was always most active in fulfilling the onerous duties which devolved upon him, attended the field exercises of the Grenadier battalion of the Guards, in Hyde Park, when a gentleman named Ongley, a clerk in the Navy Office, was shot by a musket ball, during the volley firing, whilst standing but twenty-three feet from the King. The wound was not dangerous—through the fleshy part of the thigh—and it was immediately dressed; and it might have passed off as an accident, but for an event which occurred later in the day. The cartouch-boxes of the soldiers were examined, but none but blank cartridges were found. So little indeed was thought of it, that the King, who said it was an accident, stopped on the ground for half an hour afterwards, and four more volleys were fired by the same company before he left.
The King was a great patron of the Drama, and on that evening he visited Drury Lane Theatre, where, “by command of their Majesties,” were to be performed “She would, and she would not,”[4] and “The Humourist;”[5] but scarcely had he entered the box, before he had taken his seat, and whilst he was bowing to the audience, than a man, who had previously taken up a position in the pit close to the royal box, took a good and steady aim with a horse-pistol, with which he was armed, at His Majesty, and fired: luckily missing the King, who with the utmost calmness, and without betraying any emotion, turned round to one of his attendants, and after saying a few words to him, took his seat in apparent tranquillity, and sat out the whole entertainment. He had, however, a narrow escape, for one of the two slugs with which the pistol was loaded, was found but a foot to the left of the royal chair.
Needless to say, the would-be assassin was seized at once—as is so graphically depicted in the illustration—and, by the combined exertions of both pit and orchestra, was pulled over the spikes and hurried across the stage, where he was at once secured and carried before Sir William Addington, who examined him in an adjoining apartment. The audience was furious, and with difficulty could be calmed by the assurance that the villain was in safe custody. Then, to avert attention, the curtain drew up, and the stage was crowded by the whole strength of the house—scene-shifters, carpenters, and all; and “God save the King” was given with all the heartiness the occasion warranted.
Then, when that was done, and the royal party was seated, came the reaction. The Princesses Augusta, Sophia, and Mary fainted away, the latter twice. The Princess Elizabeth alone was brave, and administered smelling salts and cold water to her less courageous sisters. The Queen bore it well—she was very pale, but collected—and during the performance kept nodding to the princesses, as if to tell them to keep up their spirits.
The name of the man who fired the shot was James Hadfield. He was originally a working silversmith; afterwards he enlisted in the 15th Light Dragoons, and his commanding officer gave him the highest character as a soldier. He deposed that Hadfield, “while in the regiment, was distinguished for his loyalty, courage, and irreproachable conduct. On all occasions of danger he was first to volunteer. On the memorable affair at Villers en Couche, on the 24th of April, 1794, which procured the 15th Regiment so much honour, and the officers the Order of Merit from his Imperial Majesty, Hadfield behaved with the most heroic bravery. On the 18th of May following, when the Duke of York retreated in consequence of the attack of Pichegru on his rear, Hadfield, in the action at Roubaix, fought with desperation. He volunteered on a skirmishing party, withstood the shock of numbers alone, was often surrounded by the enemy, and called off by his officers, but would not come. At last he fell, having his skull fractured, his cheek separated from his face, his arm broken, and he was otherwise so shockingly mangled, that the British troops, after seeing him, concluded he was dead: and he was returned among the killed in the Gazette. The French having obtained possession of the field, Hadfield fell into their hands, and recovered. He remained upwards of a year a prisoner, his regiment all the time supposing him dead; but in August, 1795, he joined it at Croydon, to the great astonishment and joy of his comrades, who esteemed him much. It soon became manifest, however, that his wounds had deranged his intellect. Whenever he drank strong liquors he became insane; and this illness increased so much that it was found necessary to confine him in a straight-waistcoat. In April, 1796, he was discharged for being a lunatic.” His officers gave him the highest character, particularly for his loyalty; adding that they would have expected him to lose his life in defending, rather than attacking, his King, for whom he had always expressed great attachment.
JAMES HADFIELD’S ATTEMPT TO KILL GEORGE III., MAY 15, 1800.