And on the sides:
“O Jesus, we have merited thy wrath. Efface from our hearts every stain of sin, that they may be rendered worthy to become thy dwelling-place!”
“Spotless Maid, Virgin Mother, on whom the Almighty lavishes the gifts of his love, with him, with thee, bring us by thy prayers to dwell for ever in the celestial abode.”
Another fountain near the porch bears also its inscription:
Hic putens fons signatus. Parit unda salutem.
Aeger junge fidem. Sic bibe, sarnus eris.
During the cholera of 1855 more than sixty thousand pilgrims flocked to this chapel in the space of three weeks. All the priests of the diocese come here annually to celebrate the mysteries of religion, especially
in the month of September when it is most frequented. Then the holy hill is covered by the ascending pilgrims, the chapel is illuminated, the bells are rung, and group after group from different villages enter to pray and sing their pious hymns, which have a certain wild flavor that is delightful. Their varied attitudes and costumes, the rude melody of their voices, the numerous bas-reliefs and paintings on the walls, the altar of the Virgin hung with ex-votos, and the robes of the Madonna herself, overloaded with ornaments of gold and silver which sparkle in the countless tapers, make up a picture one is never weary of studying.
It was on descending from this consecrated hill we stopped to look back at the sanctuary whence streamed still the soul-stirring hymns. A group was gathered about the archway of the fountain. The base was aflush with the vines. From Limoux came the sound of earthly cares. Harvests covered the plain. The heavens aglow crowned all. It was here we took leave of the Valley of the Aude.
[172] By this water the Virgin has cured a thousand ills.