EDWARD KEARNEY, alias CARNEY, was tried by a Special Commission, at Green-street. The Attorney General addressed the Court and Jury, in a speech, which lasted nearly one hour and a half, on the nature of treason, and how the Act of the 25th of Edward the Third applied. He explained the nature of the transaction of the 23d of July; that it was a business of much narrower limits than those engaged in it were willing to admit; that it was a visitation of Providence to rouse the people to a greater exertion of loyalty, to make them put on the armour of war; he dwelt with peculiar energy on the difference between the governments of France and England. He then called the attention of the Court to the conduct of government to the traitors in 1798; some paid their lives as the forfeit of their crimes, some were transported, and some escaped for want of legal evidence to convict them. Many of them have changed from their former conduct, but others have returned to disturb a constitution, the envy and admiration of the universe. He read a part of the rebel proclamation, and contrasted it with their conduct.
Patrick M'Cabe, who had turned approver for the crown, admitted, that he was concerned in the rebellion of 1798: that he was informed of the present business the day before the rebellion; he proved the general circumstances of the transaction, but he did not prove the identity of the prisoner.
The principal evidence against the prisoner was a lieutenant, and Adjutant Brady, of the 21st regiment, who proved the finding him in arms on the night of the 23d: this was confirmed by a private in the same regiment, though there was some trifling difference in the evidence. The prisoner's defence consisted of a speech of considerable length, from his counsel, who endeavoured to excite doubts in the minds of the jury, and on those doubts to decide a verdict of acquittal. He paid many compliments on the moderation of the government, and appealed to a similar principle in the minds of the jury. The prisoner he represented as a poor, but honest and industrious hawker of skins, who had been that fatal evening pressed into the service of the insurgents. Certain evidences were adduced to prove an alibi for him, and others to give him a good character: he was, not withstanding, after the jury had retired for a few minutes, found guilty.
Lord Norbury, previous to recapitulating the evidence, which he did very minutely, laid down the law of high treason, and stated, from several eminent law reports, the different mode of practice adopted by the courts in England. His lordship was peculiarly affecting in pronouncing sentence of death on the unhappy prisoner, whose levity of manner, in the meantime, bordered on insanity, while aiming to exculpate himself.
His execution was fixed for the following Friday, (September 2,) when he was executed in Thomas-street, where he was apprehended perpetrating his crime, and nearly on the spot, where the barbarous butchery of the late Lord Kilwarden took place. He was taken from the gaol to the place of execution, about one o'clock, escorted by a strong military guard, and behaved in the same intemperate manner which distinguished him on his trial. He was one of the lower rank of society, and what is termed a skin-jobber by profession, (a dealer in dry calf skins), and seemed to be between forty and fifty years of age. It will be conceived that penitence had made no impression upon him, when it is stated, that a short time before he left the gaol, he swore by his Maker, he was not guilty. The Rev. Mr. Archer and the Rev. Mr. Gamble took much pains in exhortation, to bring him to a proper sense of his awful situation; he read a Catholic prayer book for a short time before he left the prison; but, alas! not with that coolness and resignation which evince sincere repentance. The unfortunate malefactor had been much given to intoxication in the course of his life, and which, no doubt, had been his bane; he candidly acknowledged such excess, and was most impressively entreated by Dr. Gamble, if he would make no other acknowledgement, at least to do that to the multitude of the lower class at the place of execution, and warn them against such ruinous vice, and which this malefactor promised to do. He seemed to pay more attention to the fate of his body than his soul, having several times inquired before he left the prison, what was to become of it after his death. At the fatal spot, however, he behaved with much fortitude; and, addressing the crowd in a distinct voice, warned them to return to their allegiance.
After he was hanged, his head was cut off by the executioner, who held it up in his hand to the spectators, according to the law against his crime, saying, "Behold the head of a traitor." His remains were brought back in a cart to the prison, and afterwards interred in the yard of Newgate. Notwithstanding the threat in the Rebel Proclamation, "that the execution of the first man, who should suffer as a traitor, should be the signal for a general rising," the sentence was carried into effect without exciting the smallest disturbance.
THOMAS MAXWELL ROCHE, an old man, about sixty years of age, and by trade a slater, was the next brought to trial, September 1. The evidence afforded nothing new, or materially differing from that adduced on the trial of Kearney; like him, Roche was found in arms in Thomas street, by Lieutenant Brady, and the party of the 21st regiment under his command.
Some time before this hoary malefactor left the gaol for execution, he persisted in declaring he was not guilty, but it appeared equivocation; for on being exhorted in a most becoming manner, by a reverend gentleman present, not to be dissembling in the presence of the Supreme Being, adding to his crime, he at length declared at the place of execution, that he was guilty of the crime for which he suffered. From a discharge which he produced as to his character, it appeared that he also, in his life time, had been addicted to inebriety, that demon of destruction to the lower class. He suffered also in Thomas-street.
OWEN KIRWAN, an old clothesman, was the third person indicted. Benjamin Adams, a silk-weaver, in Plunket-street, swore, that he knew the prisoner for ten or twelve years, who lived nearly opposite to him; he recollected the night of the 23d; saw the prisoner leaning over his door; also saw him go up repeatedly from his house to Thomas street, with a green bag filled with something; saw him between eight and nine o'clock going into his house, he was then at the window on the third floor; beheld a rocket in the air go across the street over the prisoner's house; prisoner then said, "There is the rocket, my boys!" he then turned into his shop, put on a green coat, and went out; his wife followed him, and made him come back, and put on a cotton jacket. Prisoner put a pike on his shoulder, and said, "God's blood, boys! the town is our own tonight." He then said, "Any man that does not turn out to-night will surely be put to death to-morrow. The prisoner then and his party ran up Plunket-street, and turned into Thomas-street. The party were all armed with pikes, and the prisoner at the bar had also a pike; in about half an hour afterwards the witness saw a parcel of armed men pass down Plunket-street, towards Patrick street; in about a quarter of an hour after, sixty or seventy persons came down Plunket-street: some of them stopped at the prisoner's door, and some lower down; they got beer. Kirwan's wife had something prepared for them. In about half an hour he heard a firing from the Coombe.
The prisoner called several persons, who gave him the character of a sober industrious man, and one who they never heard was concerned in any rebellious affair. The jury, however, found him guilty. The next day (Friday, September 2,) he was brought up to receive sentence of death, which was pronounced upon him with peculiar solemnity by Baron George; who also addressed the prisoner in an affecting speech of some length, concluding in nearly the following words:
"Do not suppose that the cause you engaged in, and for which you have forfeited your life, is popular, and will rescue your memory from the deserved odium which must attach to it, in proportion as you die obdurate or unatoning. No! wretched man! your mad atrocities, your horrible assassinations, will only be remembered, and the detestation of posterity feature you in the blood you have shed. In the last rebellion it was to be lamented, that wicked men made use of arguments to mislead the weak, and to palliate treason; but has any human creature said a single word in favour or palliation of the insurrection to which you have been so actively assisting? No! its sole object has been blood and desolation; and the fate of him who could promote, in conspiracy or in action, such an object, can never be attended with popularity. Discharge, therefore, such a wicked and dangerous delusion from your mind, if you should be so unhappy as to entertain it; think only of your salvation, as a contrite Christian should, and do not leave the world with a lie in your mouth, and go before your Maker, swaggering in vain and boastful guilt. Believe me, unhappy man, that to disclose all you know, and thus make your injured country and offended God all the atonement in your power, will prove an inexpressible consolation to you in your last moments, and infuse into your soul that sweet consciousness of right, which can alone sweeten the bitter draught you are about to take, and justify a hope of future pardon and happiness. You were told that a rocket would be the signal of insurrection. You knew of the mischief to be done; you were evidently deep in the dreadful secret; and therefore again I exhort you, as you value your eternal salvation, not to leave this life until you do justice to your country, and make what return you now can for the crimes with which you have disgraced it. But while I thus urge you to the disclosure with which your duty should suggest, do not think I am authorised to hold out any hope to you, or that any disclosure will be an atonement to the law: but under any consideration of your interest or duty, you must act in opposition to both, whether in this world or the next, by denying the truth and justice of the verdict pronounced upon you, and persisting in a frame of mind in corrigible to repentance and atonement."
This unhappy culprit was executed September 8, in Thomas-street, on the same gallows where his partners in rebellion and assassination expiated their crimes. His conduct was decent, and he acknowledged the justice of his sentence, and the impartiality of his trial.
JAMES BYRNE, who had been bred up to the baking business, which he had successfully carried on for some years in the neighbourhood of Naas, in the county of Kildare, was, September 2, found guilty on charges of high treason, and the next day received sentence of death from Baron Daly.
On the 5th (two days after) he was executed opposite the King's stores, in Townsend-street, where a temporary gallows was erected for the purpose. There was an immense concourse of spectators, whom he addressed in the following very few words: "Gentlemen, I hope my fate will be a warning to you all." He was a large man, and his weight extended the rope by which he hung to such a length, that his feet reached the ground; and, for want of any species of machinery to ease him, the executioner was obliged to bend his legs backwards, and tie them to his thighs. He hung for some moments, apparently in great torture. After hanging twenty-three minutes, he was cut down, and his head severed from his body.
On the 6th of September, FELIX ROURKE, a rebel officer, was also convicted of high-treason. This man was a colonel in the rebellion of 1798; previous to which he was serjeant to the Coolock yeomanry corps, and joined in a conspiracy to murder Captain Ormsby, and some other officers of the corps: a man of the name of Clinch was executed for his crime. Rourke afterwards turned strolling player; but, failing in that pursuit, he again turned his thoughts to real scenes of human bloodshed, in which he acted a principal part. He, with JOHN KILLIN, and JOHN M'CANN (two other convicted rebels) was brought up on the 9th, and received sentence of death.
On this occasion, Baron George addressed the prisoners in a most feeling manner, but particularly Felix Rourke, to whom he represented the aggravation which his crime received from the part which he took in the insurrection; not only committing treason himself, but seducing others to a similar crime.
Before sentence was passed, Rourke addressed the Court in language calculated to convey an impression that he was superior to the vulgar herd: he, however, negatively admitted that he was a leader of rebellion on the evening of the 23d of July, but solemnly protested that he was never concerned in the spilling of blood. Few, however, of those who heard him, believed that he was so in any respect, whether of intention or action, free from the massacre of that dreadful night.
Rourke, on his leaving gaol on Saturday, September 10, for execution, endeavoured to affect fortitude, and to baffle a shivering that he was seized with. Being asked, was he, easy in his mind? he said he was perfectly composed: he went in a smart pace from the gaol into the cart, and sat on the side going to the gallows, and as he went from the prison, bowed his head to those he saw in the windows, signifying farewell to his comrades: on his way he looked much about him in the town, instead of paying attention to his book. He was escorted by a strong party of horse, and the adjacent yeomanry corps were assembled on the spot, to pre vent any attempt to rescue the prisoner. Notwithstanding his assumed boldness, and his protestations of innocence, he met his fate with the most abject cowardice; and at the gallows confessed the justice of his sentence, and recanted his bravado assertions of innocence. He was executed in Rathcoole, in the neighbourhood of which he lived; this town, at the time of his execution, seemed to have been deserted by its inhabitants, there being not one in coloured clothes to be seen.
The following Monday, Killin and M'Cann were executed in Thomas-street: they conducted themselves with apparent penitence, and acknowledged the justness of their conviction, and of their punishment.
HENRY HAWLEY, another of these traitors, and who seemed to have somewhat of a better education than any of the rest, (except Emmet,) was a native of Roscrea, in the county of Tipperary, and had been so active in the rebellion of 1798, that he was wounded in an attempt to plunder a house, in that neighbourhood, of arms. When John Hanson, the keeper of the tower, in the castle, went to arrest him, this desperate man immediately fired at and shot him; for this crime he was not indicted, but for that of high treason, September 27. The fact of his having been employed in the manufacture of pikes was proved by evidence similar to that produced on former trials; and no attempt being made to rebut the charge, the jury, without going out of the box, pronounced the verdict of guilty.
After a solemn appeal to the prisoner, on the enormity of his offence, Baron George pronounced sentence of death on him. This wretched man was executed September 29, 1803, according to his sentence, at the front of the New Prison. Before the rope was adjusted, he requested leave to address the people. The extreme contrition and repentance which he expressed induced the sheriffs to yield to his desire: he accordingly came out upon the platform, and raising his voice so as to be heard to a considerable distance, said nearly as follows:—
"Good people, pray for me, and pray that I may be forgiven my sins, which I heartily repent of. Good people, you see to what a situation I am brought by my own folly, and by bad advisers. Good people, love each other, and forget all animosities—relinquish your foolish pursuits, which, if you continue to follow, will, in the end, bring you to the situation in which I now stand." He confessed that he had, with his own hand, murdered Colonel Brown, of the 21st regiment, on the night of the rebellion. He appeared fully sensible of the enormity of his crime, as well as that of the murder of Hanson, and exhibited an appearance of the deepest remorse, entirely different from that sullen and ferocious apathy with which so many of his accomplices had met their fate. His whole conduct excited a degree of compassion, which it required the full recollection of his crimes to overcome. He returned from the platform; and, having prayed for a short time, was again led forth, and the trap falling, he died without a struggle.
On the first of October, JOHN M'INTOSH was tried before the special commission, on the same charges of high treason with those whose trials preceded him. It appeared that the prisoner, a carpenter by trade, had rented the house, No. 26, in Patrick-street, where the explosion of gunpowder took place on the Saturday previous to the insurrection. On that occasion he would not accept of the assistance of his neighbours, but locked up the place, telling a man living next door to him, who was more particular in his enquiries, that the explosion was in consequence of an experiment tried by silk-dyers. Mr. Wilson, a chief peace-officer, went to the house the following evening, and ascertained the explosion to have been that of gunpowder; a parcel of which he found in an unfinished state, and some saltpetre. He also found in a chest about fifty fresh-cast musket-balls, a volume of De Volney's Ruin of Empires; and in the house were about two hundred pike handles, shorter than those with which he had afterwards become more familiar; but, in an adjoining house, he found a parcel of bayonets, with the sockets filled with wood, and as if they had been sawed from off the handles, which were in the first house. It appeared that, after the explosion in Patrick-street, the prisoner went immediately to the depot, in Mass-lane, where he continued until the 23d of July, preparing for the insurrection, which broke out on that evening. When the insurrection took place, he was actively engaged in it: he was one of those who fired at the trooper who was killed; he was also among those infernal assassins who stopped Lord Kilwarden's carriage; and stood by while that lamented nobleman and his nephew were piked to death. It did not appear that he inflicted any of the wounds, which were all given with pikes, he having been armed with pistols and a blunderbuss. After the defeat of the insurrection, he fled; and, as he was passing through Arklow, in the county of Wicklow, he was arrested by Mr. Coats, a magistrate, to whom he said that his name was Magrath; that he was a mill-wright by trade, was going to Waterford, had been working at Mr. Jones's, in the county of Wicklow, and had not been in Dublin for three weeks previous to the 23d of July.
There was no tenable defence set up. Some persons were adduced to character; and the jury, without retiring, returned a verdict of "Guilty."
This culprit suffered October 3, 1803, in Patrick-street, opposite the house where he had been manufacturing the powder for rebellion.
On the day of M'Intosh's execution, THOMAS KEENAN was tried on the same charges of high-treason. It was proved that he was an associate of M'Intosh, and was arrested along with him in the town of Arklow, whither they had fled after the 23d of July. Like M'Intosh, he assumed a feigned name and occupation, when questioned by Mr. Coates the magistrate; and also said that he had been at work some time before the 23d, and on that day for a Mr. Jones, of Kilnecary, in the county of Wicklow.
It was proved by two witnesses, Fleming and Finerty, that he had been in the rebel depot, in Mass-lane, in the course of the week previous to the insurrection, at work as a carpenter, making pike handles, &c.; and Fleming swore positively that he was one of those who piked Lord Kilwarden. The jury, after five minutes' conference, returned a verdict, "Guilty." Sentence of death was immediately pronounced. The prisoner did not deny his having been one of the conspiracy, but positively denied having been one of the murderers of Lord Kilwarden. He was executed on the 4th of October, 1803, in Thomas-street.
DENNIS LAMBERT REDMOND, a very principal person in this insurrection, was tried for high-treason, October 5th. His trial was intended for September 3d, on which morning, just before he was sent for, the prisoner shot himself with a small pocket-pistol, which he had, for some time about his person, concealed in his pantaloons. The city-surgeon immediately examined his wound, and reported it not dangerous. Previous to this, he had offered to give information to government of all persons concerned in the late horrid insurrection, together with their plans and connections. This proposal, after having been well weighed, was rejected: the charges against the prisoner, who was not one of the deluded mob, being of such a nature as to make him, if found guilty, a peculiarly fit subject for an example. The double shame of guilt and treachery hastened the commission of this rash act, which drew a veil between him and the publication of his crimes. This wretched man, instead of accelerating his death as he intended, only procrastinated it by having thus postponed his trial and execution.
Pat M'Cabe, the accomplice, was the principal witness, who proved the conspiracy to levy war, on the 23d of July, in Company with Allen, who was tried along with Arthur O'Connor, at Maidstone, and acquitted. It was also proved, that he employed carpenters in his house to make pike-handles; and that a number of those weapons, bayonets, &c. were found concealed in his house, in the Coal Quay, particularly pikes under a part of the flooring, and more in three cases, formed to resemble beams of timber. After the 23d of July, the prisoner fled in a vessel, the Tarleton, James Murphy, master, bound to Chester, but was put into Carlingford by a storm, in which the vessel was like to have been lost: there he was taken, and transmitted to this city; and, on his examination, gave a false account of some circumstances, and which falsehoods were strongly corroborative of his guilt. The jury, in about five minutes, returned a verdict of "Guilty."
Being asked why judgment should not be pronounced against him, he addressed the court with tremor, and under such strong agitation, as frequently deprived him of speech for minutes. In his address, he alleged, "that the conduct proved against him by M'Cabe had been exaggerated, though in part true; that in his conversation with Mr. Read, in Drogheda, Mr. Read gave the king's health, which he drank, and then gave General Bonaparte; that on Mr. Read's speaking hardly of Bonaparte, he used his best arguments to support the character of the then Chief Consul, alleging that he had a right so to do, as respectable persons in London had been prosecuted for speaking against him. [Here he was stopped by agitation.] He then, after a pause of some minutes, went on—"I will, now that the halter is about my neck, and the axe ready to sever my head from my body, confess, that I held an official situation under the Provincial Government; and that the great object of my heart was to promote the views of that government—[Here again he stopped]—and every act which I have done in forwarding that government, I should be" [Here his voice utterly failed]—and after a long pause Baron George, with that benign humanity, which marks his every act, said, that if the prisoner had anything more to say, the court would wait as long as he desired. The prisoner said, "he would give no further trouble;" and the baron, after the most impressive lecture on the fatal consequences of treason that ever was given, pronounced the terrible sentence of the law.
This unfortunate man was about twenty-five years of age, in his person tall and athletic, and rather a handsome long countenance. He was executed on the 6th of October, 1803, in the Coal Quay, opposite his own door, about half past two o'clock. He was dressed very genteelly, his hair à la crop, and a large cravat, very high about his chin. The remains of the wound he inflicted on himself by the pistol-shot were covered with a black plaster, very neatly. He quitted the gaol about one, and was brought over Carlisle-bridge, and through College-green, Dame-street, Parliament-street, &c. &c. He behaved, during his passage, with much composure and recollection, and seemed to take notice, rather particularly, of any little stoppage or noise in his progress, as he would often turn his head round to the front of the cart, in which he sat on its floor, with his back to the horse, and would salute his acquaintance as he passed them. He seemed to look on the different houses and public buildings, with which he was more intimately acquainted, with a sort of farewell expression in his countenance. On his arrival at the place of his execution, the female part of the spectators received him with quiet expressions, and signs of grief and pity: their eyes and countenances alone proved their feelings; but, to do them justice, they cursed most heartily those who had seduced their friends to the paths of disloyalty; in short, every one pitied the man, but execrated his principles. Very little time was necessary to complete his business. He mounted the ladder with steadiness and resolution, and without the smallest levity, though there was a sort of indignant behaviour about him, which was most fully exemplified in his answer to the clergyman who attended him when he was asked, "Do you die in peace with all mankind?" he answered, "'Tis no matter, I must die, whether or no." He remained on the platform for above five minutes alone, when he gave the signal which launched him into eternity. He fell with great force, and died without showing symptoms of much pain; indeed, the fall was so great, he almost never stirred. Thus died, an ignominious death, a man who had every prospect in this world to become a useful and honourable member of society, at least if property could influence; he having come into above 300l. per annum about a year before.
We shall conclude our account of these insurgents with that of THOMAS RUSSEL, (the only leader of note after Emmet,) who, under the title of the general of the Northern District, under the Provisional Government, issued a proclamation to that district on the 23d of July.
This man had been long distinguished for superiority of talents, particularly as a military character. He had served both in the East and West Indies, and in the latter with great credit in the same regiment with General Knox, with whom he went to Ireland, and was very attentively treated by the Northland family, through whose interest he was appointed a magistrate of the county of Tyrone, and he lived for some time at Dungannon; but in consequence of a difference with the Northland family, entirely arising from politics, he removed to Belfast, where he resided until the year 1792, when he was arrested, with Samuel Nelson and others, and conveyed to Newgate, Dublin: there he remained a prisoner until 1798, when he was sent, with Arthur O'Connor and others, to Fort St. George in Scotland.
At the conclusion of the last peace he was, with the other prisoners, liberated, and he proceeded to France. He lived in Paris during the peace, and was observed to be intimately acquainted with many of the members of the French Government, and with several of the first generals in France. Immediately subsequent to the declaration of war, he was missed from Paris, and found his way to Ireland. His malpractices having been discovered by government, one thousand pounds were offered by proclamation for his apprehension, but his arrest was not produced in consequence of that offer. It was owing to a Mr. Emerson, of the attorney's corps. He had received information, which was obtained through the vigilance of the Divisional Inspector of the District, that a stranger of suspicious appearance was observed in the house of a Mr. Muley, gun-maker, in Parliament-street. This circumstance Mr. Emerson immediately communicated to Mr. Secretary Marsden, by whom he was referred to Major Sirr. Mr. Emerson accordingly called upon the major, and, accompanied by him and Lieutenant Minchin, with a detachment of Captain Green's corps of Yeomanry, under the command of Lieutenant Beton, proceeded to the house in question about ten o'clock that night, where in a garret room, they discovered the person whose conduct had excited suspicion.
On their attempting to examine him he drew forth two loaded pistols, which he snapped at them; but both of them missed fire. Being recognised by Sirr, as Russel, the rebel general, he was seized and taken to the castle. He represented himself as Mr. Thomas, but Sirr had recollected him since he was a prisoner in Newgate; and, upon being taken to the castle, he was immediately identified by an old acquaintance of his, the Hon. Captain Knox, son of Lord Northland, under whose patronage Russel once was, until he had forfeited it by his political principles. Other northern gentlemen, who were at dinner with Mr. Wickham, also knew Russel. After he had acknowledged his real name, he avowed his purpose in coming to the country, and spoke in the boldest language of the "glorious cause" in which he was engaged—"It is that," said he, "for which I would meet death with pleasure, either in the field or on the scaffold."
His trial came on October 19, 1803, before a special commission at Downpatrick, Ireland: it occupied the attention of the court from ten in the morning, till past eight in the evening. One very important fact came out in the course of his trial: that, with all the influence which he possessed at one period among the lower orders; with all the exertions which he made, aided by the manners of a popular leader, he was unable to raise anything like a formidable body of insurgents. Individual adherents he met with; but the great body of the people showed no disposition to espouse his cause. The prisoner, having been asked if he had anything to say why sentence of death should not be passed, upon him, addressed the court in an eloquent and energetic, though rather a somewhat unconnected speech, of about twenty minutes in which he took a view of the principal transactions of his life for the last thirteen years; and on a retrospective view of which, he said, he looked back with triumph and satisfaction. He endeavoured to vindicate his conduct from the criminality attached to it, by asserting that in all he had done, he had acted from the conviction of his conscience; and anxiously requested that the court would make him not only the first, but the only life which should be taken on the present occasion; mercifully sparing to their families and friends the lives of those men whom it was asserted he had led astray.
The Hon. Baron George, after a pathetic address of some length, then pronounced the awful sentence of the law, which the prisoner listened to with the greatest composure—bowed respectfully to the court, and then retired in the custody of the sheriff. This unfortunate man was executed Oct. 21st (Friday,) and suffered with a degree of fortitude worthy of a better cause.
He was very liberally educated; and, in some pamphlets written by him upon the state of Ireland previous to 1798, he manifested considerable genius and information. He was about six feet high, of a very noble mind, a remarkably well-proportioned stature, and very marked countenance. His mind seemed strong. His conversation was very interesting, where he was disposed to be communicative; but he was in general reserved. His manners were highly polished. On the whole, he appeared to be amazingly well calculated to conciliate attachment, and ensure obedience.