This adventure eventually had the fortunate result of procuring a bulletin in several of the Dublin newspapers, though it did not seriously give the gallant yeomen half the credit which their intrepidity and sufferings had merited.
Sir John Ferns,[[58]] who had been sheriff, and the most celebrated wine-merchant of Dublin, was at that period justly admired for his singing—his luxurious feasts—insatiable thirst—and hard-going hospitality: his amarynth nose, with cheeks of Bardolph, twinkling black eyes with a tinge of blood in the white of them, rendered any further sign for his wine-vaults totally unnecessary.
[58]. Sir J. Ferns had one quality to an astonishing extent, which I can well vouch for, having often heard and seen its extraordinary effects.
His singing voice, I believe, never yet was equalled for its depth and volume of sound. It exceeded all my conceptions, and at times nearly burst the tympanum of the ear, without the slightest discord!
Yet his falsetto, or feigned voice, stole in upon the bass without any tones of that abrupt transition which is frequently perceptible amongst the best of songsters: his changes, though as it were from thunder to a flute, had not one disagreeable tone with them.
This extreme depth of voice was only in perfection when he was in one of his singing humours; and the effect of it (often shivering empty glass) was of course diminished in a large, and altogether inoperative in a very spacious room; but, in a moderately low and not very large chamber, its effect was miraculous.
This Sir John (like the Earl of Northumberland in Cheviot Chase) had made some vow, or cursed some curse, that he would take his sport three summer days, hanging or hunting rebels, and burning their haunts and houses about the town of Rathfarnan, where he had a villa. All this he was then empowered and enabled to do, by virtue of martial law, without pain or penalty, or lying under any compliment to judges or juries, as in more formal or legal epochas. He accordingly set about recruiting well-disposed and brave associates to join him in the expedition, and most fortunately hit upon Attorney James Potterton, Esq., in every point calculated for his aide-de-camp. The troop was quickly completed, and twenty able and vehement warriors, with Captain Sir John Ferns at their head, and Mr. James Potterton, (who was appointed sergeant,) set out to hang, hunt, and burn all before them where they found disloyalty lurking about Rathfarnan.
The troop was composed of five attorneys; three of Mr. John Claudius Beresford’s most expert yeomen, called manglers, from his riding-house; two grocers from the guild of merchants; an exciseman, and a master tailor; a famous slop-seller from Poolbeg-street; a buck parson from the county of Kildare; one of Sir John’s own bottlers, and his principal corker; also a couple of sheriff’s officers. Previously to setting out, the captain filled their stomachs gullet-high with ham, cold round, and cherry bounce; and being so duly filled, Sir John then told them the order of battle.