Well, I am now going to deal with the 'silly, lying, or apocryphal ravings.' The romance relates that on one occasion when Brendan was in a place called the Thicket, there came to him a man called Barint O'Neil, of the race of King Neil of IX. Hostages. This man told him that his disciple Marnock had left him, and founded an hermitage of his own in an island called Delight some, whither he himself afterwards went to visit him. While he was there, they were one day together upon the shore, where there was a small boat, and then, to translate the precise words, 'he said unto me, "Father, go up into the ship, and let us sail westward unto the island which is called the Land of Promise of the Saints, which God will give unto them that come after us in the latter time." We went up into the ship therefore, and clouds covered us all round about us, so that hardly could we see the stern or the prow of the ship. After the space, as it were, of one hour, a great light shone round about us, and there appeared a land wide and grassy, and very fruitful. And when the ship was come to land, we went out, and began to go about, and to walk through that land for fifteen days, and we could not find the end thereof. We saw there no plant without a flower, and no tree without fruit, and all the stones thereof are precious stones. And upon the fifteenth day we found a river running from the west eastward. And when we considered all these things, we doubted what we should do. We were fain to pass over the river, but we waited for counsel from God. While we discussed thus between us, of a sudden there appeared before us a man in great brightness, who called us by our names and saluted us, saying, "It is well done, good brethren, for the Lord hath revealed unto you that land which He will give unto his Saints. For it is an half of the island up to this river; but unto you it is not given to pass over. Go back therefore whence ye are come." When he said thus, we asked him whence he was, and by what name he was called. And he said unto me, "Why dost thou ask me whence I am? and by what name I am called? Why dost thou not rather ask as to this island? For even as thou seest it now, so doth it remain since the beginning of the world. Hast thou any need of meat or drink? Hast thou been overcome of sleep, or hath night covered thee? Know therefore of a surety: there is always day here without blindness or shadow of darkness. For our Lord Jesus Christ is the light thereof, and if men had not done against the commandment of God, they would have remained in the loveliness of this land." When we heard it, we were turned to weeping, and when we were rested, we straightway took our journey, and the man aforesaid came with us even to the shore where our ship was. But when we got us up into the ship, the man was taken away from our eyes, and we came into the darkness aforesaid, and until the Isle of Delight some.' Barint goes on to relate his conversation with Marnock's disciples, and how they told him that they often knew by the fragrance of Marnock's garments, when he had been away from them for a while and returned, that he had been in that garden of God, where, as it is expressed, 'night gathereth not, nor day endeth ... for the angels of God keep it.'
Incited by this narrative, Brendan proposed to some of his disciples to set out in search of the Land of Promise, and after fasting for forty days for three days at a time, they finally embarked from the neighbourhood of Tralee. There is a very curious description of the corach[2] or skin-boat in which they embarked. It was, it is stated, 'very light, with ribs and posts of wicker, as the use is in those parts, and they covered it with the hides of cattle, dyed reddish in oak-bark, and they smeared all the seams of the ship without; and they took provisions for forty days, and butter for dressing hides for the covering of the ship, and the other things which are useful for the life of man.' Two of the MSS. add (and are justified by subsequent passages):—'They set up a mast in the middle of the ship, and a sail, and the rest of the gear for steering.' The voyagers were fourteen in number besides Brendan, but at the last moment three other brethren came and entreated to be taken, saying that if they were left where they were, they would die of hunger and thirst. Brendan consents, but predicts that while one of them would come to a good end, two would come to a bad.
[2] After the manner of the antient Celts, but which is not, I believe, altogether extinct either in the Highlands or in Ireland, and of which I remember having seen one once in actual use in Wales.
They set off in the direction of the summer solstice, by which must, I think, be meant the northerly western point where the sun sets in summer, and are forty days at sea—it will be noticed that the periods in this story are nearly always of forty days. At the end of this time they come to a very high and rocky island, with streams falling down the cliffs into the sea. They search for a landing-place for three days, and then find a narrow harbour, between steep walls of rock. On landing, they are met by a dog, which they follow to a town or fort, but see no inhabitants. They go into a great hall set with couches and seats, and find water prepared for washing the feet. The walls are hung with vessels of divers kinds of metal, and bridles, and horns mounted with silver. Brendan warns the brethren against theft, especially the three who had come last. They find a table laid, and spread with very white bread and fish. They eat and lie down to sleep. In the night Brendan sees a fiend in the shape of an Ethiopian child tempting one of the three last comers with a silver bridle. In the morning they find the table again spread, and so remain for three days and nights. Then they prepare to leave, and Brendan denounces one of the brethren as a thief. On this the guilty brother draws the silver bridle out of his breast, and cries out, 'Father, I have sinned: forgive it, and pray for my soul that it perish not.' The devil is cast out, but the brother dies and is buried on the island. As they are on the point of embarking, a lad brings them a basket of bread and a vessel (amphora) of water, which he gives to them with a blessing.
They start again upon the ocean, and are carried hither and thither, eating once every two days. At last, on Maundy Thursday, they reach another island, where are many abundant springs full of fish, and flocks of white sheep as large as cattle, sometimes so thick as to conceal the earth. There they remain until the morning of the Eve of Easter, when they take, and apparently kill and dress, one sheep and one lamb without blemish. The reference is evidently to an identity of custom with that which still prevails in all the southern countries of Europe, of preparing the flesh of a lamb on Holy Saturday, in honour of the Paschal Lamb, which flesh is blessed on the Saturday, and used to break the fast of Lent on the next day.[3] When all is ready there comes to them a man with a basket of bread baken on the coals—evidently meaning Passover bread. This man now becomes a regular although occasional feature in the narrative, and is called their provider (procurator). He foretells their journey for some time, and how they will be until a week after Pentecost in a place which is called the Eden of Birds.
[3] In Italy at least, in order as far as possible to combine the strict fast of the Saturday with a fulfilment of the words of Ex. xii. 8, 'And they shall eat the flesh in that night.' It is usual to have an image of a lamb in sugar or other confectionary, which is also blessed during the day, and eaten at supper.
Thus furnished, they go to an island close by, which he has pointed out to them as the place where they are to remain until the following noon. This island is destitute of grass, and with but scanty vegetation, and there is no sand upon its shores. All goes well until the next day, when they light a fire to boil the pot, whereupon the island becomes restive, and finally sinks into the sea, although they all manage to escape into the ship. '"Brethren," saith Brendan, "ye wonder at that which this island hath done." "Father," say they, "we wonder sorely, and great dread hath taken hold upon us." He said unto them, "Little children, be not afraid, for God hath this night shown unto me the secret of this thing. Where we have been was not an island but the first fish of all that swim in the ocean, and he seeketh ever to bring his tail unto his mouth, but he cannot, because of his length. Jasconius is his name."'
This is the only incident in the whole romance which is actually grotesque. But from the solemnity with which it is narrated, it is evident that it did not appear to be grotesque to the author. It seems to have taken the fancy of the early and mediæval public, and even of the iconographic public in a special degree. The word whale has commonly been applied to the beast, and as the same episode occurs in the story of Sinbad the Sailor, Jubinal has set himself to speculate how that story, or the Arabian Nights in which it is incorporated, came to be known in Ireland. I confess I do not agree with him. In the first place, the notion is not particularly recondite, and it has at least this possible foundation in fact, that, as I have been told by sailors, the back of a whale of advanced years, when asleep at the surface, may be and has been mistaken from some distance, greatly owing to the accretions upon it, for the top of a reef. Again, a somewhat similar notion occurs in Lucian's Traveller's Tale, which was much more likely to be known to the Irish fabulist. Lastly, I must observe that all this is gloss. The word whale (cete) is never applied to the animal but always fish (piscis) or monster (bellua) or beast (bestie), and the whole thing, with the notion of its vast size, and the attempt to join the tail to the mouth, which brings it into connection with the emblem of eternity, which is due, I believe, to the Phoenicians, but which we ourselves so often use upon coffins and grave-stones, seems to bring it into connection rather with the idea of the Midgard-Worm, the great under-lying world-serpent which figures so largely in the mythic cosmogony of the Scandinavians. I suggest that this is the notion, of which the romancer may have heard from Scandinavian sources; and there is even a kind of indication that it was associated in his mind with the idea of paganism, as Brendan is made to speak elsewhere of God having made the most terrible (immanissimam) of beasts subject unto them.
On leaving the spot where the monster had sunk, they first returned to the provider's isle, from the top of which they perceived another near at hand, covered with grass and woods and full of flowers, and thither they went.
On the south shore of this island they found a river a little broader than the ship, and up this they towed her for a mile, when they came to the fountain-head of the stream. It was a wondrous fountain, and above it there was a tree marvellously beautiful, spreading rather than high, but all covered with white birds, so covered that they hid its foliage and branches. (The notion is perhaps taken from a tree loaded with snow.) 'And when the man of God saw it, he began to think in himself what or wherefore it should be, that such a multitude of birds should be gathered together in one place. And the thing distressed him so, that he wept, and fell down upon his knees, and besought the Lord, saying, "O God, Who knowest the things which are unknown, and makest manifest the things which are hidden, Thou knowest how that mine heart is straitened; therefore I beseech Thee that it may please Thee to make manifest unto me, Thy sinful servant, this mystery which now I do see with mine eyes. And this I ask not for an desert of my worthiness, but in respect of Thy mercy." When he had so spoken, behold, one of the birds flew from the tree. From the ship, where the man of God was sitting, his wings sounded as with the sound of little bells. He perched upon the top of the prow, and began to spread his wings for joy, and looked kindly upon the holy father Brendan. Then the man of God, when he understood that the Lord had had regard unto his prayer, saith unto the bird, "If thou be the messenger of God, tell me whence be these birds, and wherefore they be gathered here." And it said, "We are of that great ruin of the old enemy; but we have not fallen by sinning or consenting; but we have been predestinated by the goodness and mercy of God, for wherein we were created, hath our ruin come to pass, through his fall and the fall of his crew. But God the Almighty, Who is righteous and true, hath by His judgment sent us into this place. Pains we suffer not. The presence of God in a sense we cannot see, so far has He separated us from the company of them that stood firm. We wander through the divers parts of this world, of the sky, and of the firmament, and of the earths, even as other spirits who are sent forth [to minister]. But upon the holy days of the Lord, we take bodies such as Thou seest, and by the ordinance of God we dwell here, and praise our Maker. As for thee, thou and thy brethren are a year upon the way, and yet there await you six. And where this day thou hast kept the Passover, there shall ye keep it every year, and afterwards shall thou find that which thou hast set in thine heart, even the land promised unto the Saints." And when the bird had so spoken, it rose from the prow, and returned unto the others. And when the hour of evening came, they all began to flap their wings, and to sing as it were with one voice, saying, "Praise waiteth for Thee, O God, in Zion, and unto Thee shall the vow be performed in Jerusalem, through our ministry." And they repeated that verse even for the space of an hour, and the song and the sound of their wings was like harmony (carmen cantus) for sweetness. Then holy Brendan saith unto his brethren, "Refresh your bodies, since this day the Lord hath satisfied your souls by His Divine rising again." And when supper was ended, and the work of God done, the man of God and they that were with him gave their bodies unto rest until the third watch of the night. And the man of God woke and roused the brethren for the watches of the night, and he began holily to sing that verse, "O Lord, open Thou my lips." And when the word of the man of God was finished, all the birds sang out with wings and voices, saying, "Praise ye the Lord, all His Angels, praise ye Him all His hosts." Likewise at even for the space of an hour, they sang ever, and when the dawn glowed they began to sing, "And let the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us," with the same harmony and length of singing as in the Morning Praises: likewise, at the third hour that verse, "Sing praises to our God, sing praises, sing praises unto our King, sing ye praises with understanding:" at the sixth hour, "May the Lord cause His face to shine upon us, and be merciful unto us:" and at the ninth hour they sang, "Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity." So by day and by night these birds gave praise to God.'