"I hope," said the cautious old magistrate, "that no one will be tempted by its amount to swear away the life of some innocent person. Large as it is, however, you see that it has failed as yet to bring any one forward with a particle of information."

Now, old George Lombard had been somewhat eccentric in his habits and manners. Some of these eccentricities had descended to his daughter. It will not astonish any one, therefore, to learn what passed between Madeline and old Squire Waller. After going over the meagre array of facts that had been elicited by the inquest, and after arguing between them the feasibility of increasing the reward, Madeline resumed

"I have come at last to the conclusion," she said, "that something extraordinary must be done, and I will do it for the sake of my father. You know, Mr. Waller," continued she, blushing at what she was about to say, "the large number of bachelors, young and old, that have of late years sought my hand, some perhaps, for my own sake, but a great many, I fear, for the sake of the fortune and estate to which I am heiress. There are others, too, who I suppose would wish to enter the lists only that they are deterred by poverty.

You may

now circulate it amongst them all, rich and poor, that to the man who will be successful in bringing the murderer of my father to justice, I will give my hand and fortune! This, before you, a magistrate of the county, I vow most solemnly and truly to perform!"

Old Squire Waller endeavoured by every means in his power to dissuade her from keeping her vow, but it was all to no purpose. Madeline Lombard's resolve was taken, and the affair was soon spread through the country. As may be supposed, the search after the murderer became now more diligent and active in a tenfold degree, but it was still fruitless. Madeline, since the death of her father, often thought of her absent cousin, Harry Godsall, and wished him at home, for she knew, bad as he was, that he would make himself more active than all the others in the search.

Her wish was strangely granted, for about six weeks after the murder, Harry Godsall came home. He seemed much changed and darkened by the foreign clime, but he came like a gentleman, dressed well, and apparently with plenty of money. He said that he had purchased his discharge, and come home to lead thenceforth a steady life. Harry was soon established in the country mansion of the Lombards, and of course, was soon most indefatigably engaged in the search for the murderer.

Now, our town is and was always remarkable for strange characters. Among the strangest of them all was old Peg Tressy, the fairywoman. She had a most astonishing knowledge of herbs, and their properties, and was famed through the wide country round as a most successful doctress. Her home was in one of the deserted cloisters of the huge old abbey beside the river, and there she usually received her patients with an amount of mystery that added not a little to her fame amongst the peasantry and townspeople.

One night about a fortnight after the return of Harry Godsall, that worthy and old Peg Trassey were holding secret council together in the ancient cloister. It was a long and mysterious consultation, and related to the murder.

66

"You saw him, then," said Harry Godsall, with a dark look of intelligence at the fairy woman, as he rose to depart; you saw him coming out of the window with the knife in his hand, and climbing down the leaden pipe at the back of the house ?"

"I did," answered Peg Trassey, with a sinister look in return.

"And you will swear to it ?" said Harry.

"That will I," answered Peg," as sure as there is a fairy in Lisbloom!"

gone.

"Then," said Harry Godsall, as he moved to the door of the cloister," the reward will be doubled, Pegyes, and doubled again, not counting the sum I shall give you when all is settled. Good night, and remember!" "Remember!" exclaimed Peg Trassey, when he was "As sure as there's an angel in Heaven I will. I heard you talking to yourself," continued she, "when you thought there was no one near the other night under the town wall; an', mo bron! 'tis remember your words, an' the reward you were to give me! I'll not forget it word for word till the day o' my death!" and she poured out from a small earthen pot a steaming jorum of tea, which was in those days both a rarity and luxury among the poor, and began to refresh herself. "Swear it, inyah !" added she, as she finished her cup, walked over to one of her secret closets, and brought forth a long clasp knife all stained and encrusted with blood-"Faith I will. I can safely swear above board that I saw him coming out o' the window in the dead o' night with this knife dripping red in his bloody hand, and also how he dropped it in the weeds, climbing over the garden wall, and couldn't find it. But I found it, an' will keep it till the day o' trial. Then those who think money and villany can gain the day will see truth stepping forrid, horse an' foot, an' winning the battle!"

Next day half a troop of yeomen-cavalry left our town under the command of Harry Godsall and old Squire Waller, and proceeded in the direction of Brian Connell's house After an absence of about two hours they returned with Richard Connell, a prisoner between them, and accused of the murder of old George Lombard. The same evening a meeting of the surrounding magistrates was held in the town. Several men who had been in the faction fight on the evening of the fair were brought before them by Harry Godsall. They proved to the manner in which Dick Connell had threatened old George Lombard. After some other evidence brought forward by Harry Godsall, who said that other and more important facts would be forthcoming at the proper time, Dick Connell was there and then committted by the over-zealous magistrates for the wilful murder of George Lombard, Esquire, and was next day sent off under the guardianship of the yeomen-cavalry to the county jail, there to await his trial.

Strange to say, notwithstanding all this, Madeline persisted in believing Dick Connell innocent of the terrible crime with which he was charged.

"Take care," she said to Harry Godsall, "that you are not acting over hastily in the matter. I know them all well, and I am persuaded that Richard Connell would not injure a hair of my poor father's head."

"I thought, Madeline," answered her cousin with something of a sneer on his lip, "that you would be the last person to hold back, after all that has occurred. When the day of the trial comes you will see to your surprise that he is guilty, for I am now on the track of witnesses that will prove him so."

"May God defend the innocent, at all events," pursued Madeline. "I tell you, Harry, again, to take care, however. You know the ill-will you bear the Connells, and this may have led you to act too hastily towards them."

"As for me," answered her cousin, "that affair you allude to is past and gone, and you know I am a different man now. I bear them no ill-will. But I want justice to be done on the head of the guilty. Meantime, Madeline, when all is over, and the murderer brought to justice for his crime, I shall then remind you of the promise you made before old Tom Waller."

"I have made my vow," answered Madeline quietly, "and I will perform its conditions, come what may!"

"That is all I want," said Harry, and an hour afterwards he was riding out of the town towards their country mansion, with a dream in his head of a fine estate, a splendid bride, and prosperity for evermore.

About a week before the assizes came on Peg Trassey, the fairy-woman, presented herself before the hall-door of old Squire Waller, and demanded an audience of that wine-drinking and jovial dignitary.

"Well, Peg," said the squire, "what do want? Is it going to lodge information against the fairies you are?"

"Wisha, faith it isn't," answered Peg; "but I want a small bit o' writing from your honour."

"Perhaps," said the squire, who was always jocose with Peg, "it is a lease of the old cloister or the whole abbey you want from me?"

"It's.

"It is not, then," returned Peg, doggedly. only Brian Connell sent me to your honour for an order. He wants to see his son."

"And why did he not come himself?" asked the squire.

66

Becaise, your honour," answered Peg, "after the disgrace an' burning shame that has been brought upon his family by his misfortunate son, he doesn't like his face to be seen by any o' the gentlemen that know him."

"Well," said the squire, "I suppose I must give it," and he wrote an order to the governor of the county jail to admit its bearer to the cell of poor Dick Connell. Instead, however, of proceeding to the house of Brian Connell with the order, Peg Trassey immediately set off on foot for the city, and presented the order at the jail herself. She was admitted to Dick Connell's cell,

-"Arn't you afraid of dying?" asked she of the pri

soner, after she had greeted him with all due solemnity.

"I am not afraid of death," answered Dick Connell, "but still I am afraid of dying with the stain of murder on my name. I am innocent, Peg, and God will show it yet, perhaps, when I am cold in my grave."

"I know it," said Peg; "an' its only natural that you would fear dying with the stain of blood upon your name. What would you give to a person who would prove you innocent to judge, jury, an' the world, an' put the chain o' the law upon the guilty afore the eyes o' them all?"

"I have not much to give," answered Dick Connell eagerly. "I have only the small farm allowed me by my father. That I will sell, and give the proceeds of it to the one who will do as you say!"

"Richard Connell," said the fairy woman solemnly, "do you remember one day, when you were but a little boy, that you found me lying by the roadside in a burning fever? Do you remember how you ran and told your parents, an' how your father got a little but built for me in the corner o' one of his fields; and how all through my raging sickness you an' yours tended me and fed me as if I was their own blood-relation? I don't forget it, at any rate, an' I am now come to do you a good turn-to save your life an' punish the guilty!" "Who is guilty of the deed ?" asked Dick Connell, with wild eagerness.

"No matter," answered Peg. "I'll prove you innocent anyhow; but you must first write me a letter to the young lady o' Castle Lombard, saying that you had no part in that deed, an' that God will raise you up a witness on the day o' trial that will put the felon's chain around the four bones o' the murderer! Here is pen, ink, an' paper," and she produced the latter articles from the capacious sleeve of her red gown.

On the evening of next day Madeline Lombard received from the hands of Peg Trassey the following short letter, written by Richard Connell, strictly according to the directions of the fairy-woman:

sign of fear for the result of his trial.

Madeline Lombard sat at the judge's right hand to witness the proceedings; and Harry Godsall, who had to aid in producing the witnesses, was stationed near the spot allotted to the latter while giving their evidence. The preliminary evidence, the threat uttered by Dick Connell at the faction fight, with other incidental things, were gone through, greatly, in the mind of judge and jury, to the prejudice of the prisoner, when at last the crier called out in a loud voice the name of Margaret Trassey, and ordered her to come forward and give her testimony. You might have heard a straw drop in the court, all were then so silent, for they knew that it was upon her testimony the final result of the trial depended.

"Here I am, my lord," said Peg, as she stepped up to the witness-table and looked proudly on the judge.

After she had complied with the usual preliminaries, the judge asked her to go over her evidence. In a clear, distinct, voice, she then told how on the night of the murder she had gone to gather a certain herb which she could find nowhere but on the garden-wall at the back of the Lombard mansion; how, as she stood beneath the shadow of the wall, she heard a noise at the back of the house, and on looking up beheld the murderer in the moonlight coming forth from a window with a knife in his hand-both hand and knife apparently bloody; how he climbed down the leaden pipe that led by the window, and how he clambered over the garden wall, and disappeared, but not before she had seen face; in fine, that she knew him well.

"Point him out!" said the judge, and the rod was immediately put into her hand by one of the officials of

the court.

The fairy-woman paused a moment, looked at prisoner, judge, and crowded court, and then stepping forward a pace, laid the rod upon the head of Harry Godsall !

"What insane trick is this?" said the judge sternly, while the whole court rose in astonishment, and Harry Godsall fell back in his seat shaking with terror."Woman," continued his lordehip, "you were brought into this court to give testimony to the truth-beware now how you tamper with us!"

"I am giving true evidence, my lord," answered Peg Trassey. "I saw the murderer climb over the garden wall. In doing so he let fall his knife, returned for it, but could not find it. But I found it, my lord, after he was gone, in a bunch of weeds where I saw it drop. Here is the knife, you can look for yourself who is the owner of it!" and she handed the weapon to the judge. His lordship took it in his hand and examined it carefully. It was still incrusted and stained with blood, and on its brass handle was the name of Harry Godsall, in large, plain capitals.

"It is enough!" exclaimed the judge. "Attach Harry Godsall for the murder of George Lombard, his uncle !"

Harry Godsall, more dead than alive, was taken then and there into custody, and immediately lodged securely in prison. His trial soon came on. He was convicted, and not long after underwent the penalty of his terrible

VOL. IIL

And Madeline Lombard-did she keep her vow? She did; and since the foundation-stone of our town was laid, there was never seen such a wedding as took place on the occasion of her marriage with Dick Connell a twelvemonth or so afterwards. On that dayfrom what cause I cannot explain-perhaps some great doctor or optician might take the trouble of examining the matter-I saw at least four brides aud four bridegrooms at the ceremony, with innumerable repetitious of the same objects, as I walked hilariously along the street. I know it could not be the number of chickens I ate at the wedding-breakfast that caused it. All I can say about the matter is, that I retired to bed in the evening, slept for a time soundly-woke again with a feeling of thirst and a slight headache; then fell asleep and dreamt that our lake had at last arisen in its might and submerged the town, and that I was in the centre of the cool water swilling away at it to my heart's con

tent.

DR. JENNER'S RESEARCHES IN
NATURAL HISTORY.

FEELING a great veneration for the memory of the celebrated man whose name stands at the head of this page, and having taken some trouble to make ourselves acquainted with his private and professional character, we feel much pleasure in submitting the subjoined biographical sketch to the readers of the HIBERNIAN MAGAZINE.

Edward Jenner was born on the 17th of May, 1749, at Berkeley in Gloucestershire. His father, the Rev. Stephen Jenner, was rector of Rockhampton, and his mother was a Miss Head, daughter of the Rev. Henry Head, who at one time held the living of Berkley. Edward was the youngest of three brothers, and his father having died in the year 1754, his eldest brother, Stephen, took charge of him when he was only five years old. In three years afterwards he was sent to school, and placed under the care of the Rev. Dr. Washbourne at Cirencester, where he made considerablo progress, and soon began to evince a great taste for the study of Natural History. Whilst his schoolfellows spent their recreation hours in play or amusement, little Jenner employed his time in seeking objects connected with natural history, such as fossils, flowers, birds'-nests, etc.; and before he was nine years old he had, amongst other curiosities, a collection of the nests of the dormouse. Having spent some years at school, he was removed to Sodbury, near Bristol, where he became the pupil of a Mr. Ludlow, an eminent surgeon. When the term of studentship with that gentleman expired, he went to London, and became a pupil of the celebrated John Hunter, in whose house he resided for a period of two years. This was, indeed, a very remarkable era in the life of Edward Jenner. To become at once both the

E

pupil and companion of one of the most distinguished medical men Great Britain ever produced, was an advantage rarely to be met, for it gave him a position and an opportunity of acquiring professional information which seldom falls to the lot of any student. All this good luck was well deserved and fully appreciated by its recipient, who, actuated by a great desire for knowledge, became an incessant labourer in the great vineyard of science. At this time Jenner had not quite attained the age of twenty-one, whilst his great master was in the forty-second year of his age. This disparity of years appeared to be lost in the similarity of tastes and love of truth which alike characterised the illustrious preceptor and the zealous pupil in their pursuit of knowledge. Mr. Hunter was at this time surgeon to St. George's Hospital, and proprietor of the Menagerie which he had some years previously established at Brompton, where he made his observations and carried on his inquiries relative to the habits and organization of animals. In 1761, when Captain Cook returned to England after his first voyage of discovery, he brought with him several valuable specimens of natural history which had been collected by Sir Joseph Banks, but were chiefly prepared and arranged by Mr. Jenner, who had been appointed Curator for that purpose on the special recommendation of his preceptor and friend, Mr. Hunter. He manifested so much knowledge and dexterity in the duty assigned to him, that he was offered the appointment of naturalist in the second expedition which sailed in 1772. This flattering offer he gracefully refused, assiguing as a reason for doing so, "that he was anxious to reside in the locality in which he ws born." Mr. Jenner having completed his profestional studies, parted with his illustrious preceptor, Mr. Hunter, with whom he carried on an interesting and affectionate correspondence for many years after their personal separation. When Dr. Jenner returned to Berkeley, bringing with him strong letters of recommendation from the most eminent medical men in London, it was but natural that he should soon become engaged in practice, which rapidly increased in a district where both himself and his family were favourably known before; however, he never lost his early taste for natural history, which had become greatly developed during his residence in London under the guidance of the master mind of Mr. Hunter. With manners mild and fascinating, and professional acquirements beyond his years, he soon became a great favourite with all persons who had the happiness of making his acquaintance.

The following graphic description of his appearance and manners at this period of his life, was written by an old friend, Mr. Edward Gardner :

"His height was rather under the middle size; his person robust, but active and well formed. In his dress he was peculiarly neat, and every thing about him showed the man intent and serious, and well prepared to meet the duties of his calling. When I first saw him it was on Frampton Green; I was somewhat his junior in years, and had heard so much of Mr. Jenner of Berkeley, that I had no small curiosity to see him. He was dressed in a blue coat

and yellow buttons, buckskins, well-polished jockey-boots with handsome silver spurs, and he carried a smart whip with silver handle. His hair, after the fashion of the time, was done up in a club, and he wore a broad-brimmed hat. We were introduced on that occasion, and I was delighted and astonished. I was prepared to find an accomplished man, and all the country spoke of him as a skilful surgeon and a great naturalist, but I did not expect to find him so much at home on other matters. I who had been spending my time and cultivating my judgment by abstract study, and smit from my boyhood with the love of song, had sought my amusements in the rosy fields of imagination, was not less surprised than gratified to find that the ancient affinity between Apollo and Esculapius was so well maintained in his person."

His friend Dr. Baron writes thus :

"Such was the attachment of Jenner's friends at this time, so much did they court and prize his society, and so highly did they value his amusing and interesting conversation, that they would accompany him on his way home for miles in order that the pleasure they derived from his company might be prolonged. This arose from the singular and happy union of scientific and original observation with the playfulness of mirth and wit of familiar intercourse. His recreations from his more severe studies at this time consisted of the cultivation of polite literature, and he occasionally sought an acquaintance with the Muses. He had a peculiar facility, even in common conversation, in clothing his remarks in the gay and lively colours of poetry.

His capability in this way, and the amiability and gentleness of his disposition, may be inferred from the perusal of the subjoined :

ADDRESS TO A ROBIN REDBREAST.

"Come sweetest of the feathered throng
And soothe me with thy plaintive song;
Come to my cot devoid of fear;
No danger shall await thee here;
No prowling cat with whiskered face
Approaches this sequestered place;
No schoolboy with his willow bow
Shall aim at thee a murd'rous blow.
No wily lim'd twig ere molest
Thy olive wing or crimson breast.
Thy cup, sweet bird, I'll daily fill,

At yonder cressy, bubbling rill;

Thy board shall plenteously be spread

With crumblets of the nicest bread.
And when rude Winter comes and shows
His icicles and shivering snows,
Hop o'er my cheering hearth, and be
One of my peaceful family;

Then soothe me with thy plaintive song,
Thou sweetest of the feathered throng!"

A talent for observation and inferential deduction is perhaps the highest gift that a medical man can possess, and that Dr. Jenner was endowed with this great desideratum will, we think, be admitted by our readers when they peruse the annexed lines, in which we recognise, at a glance, the accuracy and keen perception of a naturalist combined with the fancy of the poet. They were suggested and written under the following circum

stances:

The doctor, having been invited by a friend to join him in a country excursion which he was disposed to accept; but the weather having assumed an inauspicious