This chapter, as before mentioned, does not form part of the version preserved in the Lebor Brec, and although that MS. is by far the more recent, it is quite possible that the scribe followed a version transcribed before the addition was made.[186]
6. Later Developments
The Fis Adamnáin represents the culminating point to which the Vision of the Otherworld was brought by writers of the Irish school: henceforth the achievements of that school are principally apparent in the influence which they exercised upon the course which the legend took upon the Continent, and thus, indirectly, upon the development of European literature. Enough has been said in an earlier part of this work to show that abundant means existed for familiarising Continental students with any branch of letters to which the Irish schools might be addicted, and accordingly we now find the Irish legend of the Otherworld disseminating itself through the medium as well of works written upon Irish soil, as of the writings of Irish scholars in Continental foundations, and similar works composed by foreign authors more or less under Irish influences.
The first of these productions is the last of the great Imrama, and by far the most famous, though not the best from a literary point of view.[187] Not only did the legend of St. Brendan, of Clonfert, surnamed the Voyager (483-574), become one of the most widely diffused and most popular tales of the Middle Ages, but it even influenced, in some slight degree, the course of the world’s history, for its account of a land beyond the Atlantic fired the imagination, and directed the course, of Spanish and Portuguese navigators many centuries after its own date.[188]
At one period of his labours, St. Brendan appears to have been seized with that taedium vitae which is apt, at times, to weigh with special force upon diligent workers for righteousness. In his case it asserted itself, characteristically, in that impulse which even now urges so many of his countrymen to follow his course across the Atlantic, but on a voyage whence there is no return, and to another world which seldom affords a vision of Paradise, at any rate. In this frame of mind he prayed for a land, ‘secret, hidden, secure, delightful, apart from men’; he then fell asleep, and, in a dream, was directed to repair to Sliabh Daidche (now Brandon Hill, in the Co. Kerry). This he did, and there met an angel, who bade him build three ships, and commit himself to the ocean. The building and manning of the ships, and the early stages of the voyage, wherein the old model of the Imrama is closely followed, are interesting, but cannot be given here. One day the voyagers landed upon the back of a sleeping whale, taking it for an island, until the monster, awaking, bore them off across the sea.[189] Thus they journeyed for five years, being sustained the while by food miraculously sent to them, as to the island hermits of the earlier Imrama. At length St. Brendan espied the Devil approaching them across the waves.[190] He hailed the demon, and questioned him, who replied that he had come to seek his punishment ‘in the deep closes of the black, dark sea.’ This roused the Saint’s curiosity, but the Devil told him that none might see those things and live; he was prevailed on, however, to guide the Saint to the gate of Hell. Here Brendan saw ‘a rough, hot prison, full of stench and filth and flame,’ and ‘the camps of poisonous demons’; here were wailing and ‘handsmiting of the sinful folk;[191] and a gloomy, mournful life in cores of pain, in prisons of fire, in streams of the rows of eternal fire, in the cup of eternal sorrow and death’ (tr. W. S.). The land was full of black swamps, surrounding fiery forts, and fiery mountains, over which demons were dragging the souls of the lost, without respite. Then follow long and gruesome descriptions of the sufferings endured in that place; these are of the usual type, including all the horrors of a wild and desolate region, with inclement weather, combining the extremes of heat and cold; foul, poisonous lakes; fierce winds; wild, rough brakes, and mountains haunted by monsters, etc., etc. Proceeding on their way, they visited various islands; round one of them, very lofty, they cruised for twelve days, without finding a spot where they might land, though they saw a noble church in it, and heard voices praising the Lord. After visiting several islands, the Saint returned to Ireland.[192]
However, the spirit of wandering was not yet laid, and St. Brendan set forth upon a second voyage. In this, as on the first voyage, the Otherworld type of the lands which he visited is evident. In one ‘little, insignificant island,’ the harbour was ‘filled with devils in the shape of dwarfs and pygmies, with their faces as black as coal.’ At length Brendan came to an island whereon was a pilgrim covered with white hair, who directed him to the Tír Tairngire. Here he found an old man, who bade him enter into possession of the land, for those were ‘the plains of Paradise, and the delightful fields of the land, radiant, famous, loveable, profitable,’ etc. ‘A land of odorous flowers, smooth, bland. A land of many melodies, musical, shouts for joy, unmournful’ (tr. W. S.). There were ‘health without sickness, delight without quarrelling, union without wrangling, princedom without dissolution, rest without idleness, freedom without labour, luminous unity of angels, delights of Paradise, service of angels, feasting without extinction,’ and so on, in the rhapsodical style of ch. 35 of the Fis Adamnáin. The old man was covered with white hair, like a dove or sea-mew,[193] and had ‘almost the speech of an angel.’ At the stroke of a bell tierce was celebrated, when ‘they sing thanks to God, with their minds fixed on Him,’ a repetition of the words of the Fis Adamnáin; indeed, a long passage at the conclusion of the voyage coincides almost word for word with the Fis, of which, according to Mr. Whitley Stokes, it is a copy, and not vice versa.[194]
The Latin narratives of St. Brendan’s voyages[195] differ widely from the Irish account; on the whole, the Otherworld element is much less prominent in them, though they contain several details of the kind. Of such are the island standing on four pedestals, and an island with a tall column on it, from which a veil or canopy like silver hung; a volcanic isle with demon smiths at work, hammering upon their anvils the souls of the wicked, who threw masses of glowing metal after the ships; hermits fed with salmon by a cat, etc. There is also a variant of the story told in the Voyage of Maelduin about the Torach gravedigger.
The Paradise of Birds appears with a new significance. The birds are those angels who, upon the rebellion of Lucifer, per sè foro, and fell without active guilt on their part, and were relegated to this island, there to dwell until the general Resurrection, suffering no pain, and celebrating the canonical hours; a happier lot than that which Dante bestows upon them in canto iii. of the Inferno.