In framing an Irish story, it was never deemed to be a canon of composition, that the Sanachee should keep within the limits of probability, or even of consistency, in the course of his narrative. Sufficient for him, if it was extravagant enough to excite the wonder of his hearers, and to mystify their intelligence. The confusion of persons and places offered no impediment in the plot, provided the commonalty for whom it had been prepared could find ingredients presented to the fancy, and combined according to the taste or opinion of the individuals addressed.
With such reflections premised, we shall introduce the following romaunt derived from popular tradition, and referring to a renowned Irish saint.
A very long time ago, dating so far back as the seventh century, King Ædfind, or “Hugh the White,”—said to have been ruler over the Hy-Bruin or Breifne districts—thought to have lived in some part of the Connaught province. However, we have only a partial glimmer of traditional accounts, drawn from numerous old codices preserved in different libraries, with more recent comments of chroniclers, to state our present legend.
It is strange, too, these records are mostly preserved abroad; and from the earlier ones, Surius, the Bollandists, Colgan, and Mabillon have furnished versions of that provincial dynast’s career, in Acts of the celebrated St. Fursey. From these, James Desmay, Doctor of Theology of the Sorbonne, and Canon of St. Fursey’s Collegiate Church, at Péronne, in France, published that great saint’s life in French, in the sixteenth century. Therein, he not only preserves those legends referring to the subject of his memoir, but he even dilates on them with a breadth of fond imagination, yet betraying much ignorance regarding Ireland’s early condition and history.
We here select for the subject of a legend those circumstances related as preceding and accompanying St. Fursey’s birth. These are romantic to a degree. In the action of that story, and in the sentiments there expressed, we are strongly reminded regarding the chivalry of the middle ages and the practices of knight-errantry; while there is reason to believe, nevertheless, that warlike and heroic adventures were required at a very early period, to qualify young Irish chiefs for distinction and knighthood.
When three brothers—Brendan, elsewhere called Brandubh, King of Louth or Leinster (for the narrative is varied), Feradhach, and Ædfind, King of Breifne—lived in their own parts of Ireland; King Finlog ruled over the province of Munster, and he had a distinguished son named Fintan.
This prince desired much to visit the other kings, chiefs, and territorial magnates of Ireland, to engage their favour and friendship, as also to acquire a personal knowledge of local customs and laws. Among others, he sought Brandubh, King of Leinster, who received him very honourably; and, at his fort, the young prince acquired the friendship and love of the king, as also of his chiefs. His personal attractions, valour, urbane manners, and regular morals, made him everywhere a welcome guest.
Having remained some time with Brandubh or Brendan, Fintan had a favourable report of his younger brother, Ædfind, who lived away from the Leinster king, and at a considerable distance. Although a pagan, that brother was renowned for courtly manners and hospitality. Thither Fintan proceeded, and there introduced, he was received with respectful courtesy and attention.
This king had an only daughter named Gelgeis, Latinized Gelghesia, or, Anglicised, “the White Swan.” She had been brought up in all the exercises of piety, her mother most probably having been a Christian; besides, she was a princess of great accomplishments and beauty.
Soon after the arrival of Fintan, accompanied by her lady friends, Gelgeis went to an exhibition or a spectacle. Most probably it was a military assault-at-arms or some sportive game. There the princely guest was distinguished for his accomplishments and prowess. At once the attention of Gelgeis was directed towards Fintan, and her curiosity was awakened. She felt a great inclination to learn his personal history, and soon she found that he was a pagan. From some of her attendants who were present, Gelgeis inquired who he was, for what purpose he came, and what were his peculiar qualities and rank.
While engaged in a conference of this sort, Fintan himself approached, presenting a pleasing address, air, and demeanour. He accosted the lady in these words:
“O most beautiful princess, it is the custom of noble youths to seek the palm of military prowess through different parts of the world, and thus to deserve the regard of noble maidens. Wherefore, having come to this part of the country, and obtained the good opinion of your father and mother, I still desire more earnestly to ingratiate myself into your favour, and, if possible, to hold the first place in your affections.
“For no constrained reason, but through a voluntary impulse, I have exiled myself so long from home. I am the eldest son of Finlog, King of Munster, and, according to the laws of my country, I ought to succeed him in the kingdom. Therefore do I desire in my youth to acquire a knowledge of the various habits and customs of different countries, and to gain the favour and friendship of many kings and princes; so that, if I live to enjoy the inheritance to which I am born, I may be able to govern my principality with prudence and defend it with valour, or, if circumstances require it, to make others subject to my rule.”
Then Gelgeis told him that kings were only happy when they recognised the superiority of the King of kings; and who practised the requirements of religion, who proved themselves obedient to the Divine will, and who, by exercising justice and prudence, should learn from the Almighty a true and wise order and example for the rule and government of their states. The additional words attributed to her are:
“O honourable youth, the works of Divine wisdom are variously manifested, and by their operation all things in heaven, on earth, in the sea, and beneath the depths, are directed. If faithfully and firmly believing in God, you commit to Him your hopes, the glory you desire, and the rewards you expect in the present life, doubtless in the next you will secure eternal felicity.”
Her persuasive words and singular modesty of deportment gained on the affections of Fintan, and soon he desired to contract a marriage with the beautiful princess. Having resolved on the course to be taken, Fintan proposed his intentions to Gelgeis, hoping to obtain her consent for his suit.
She replied, that, being a Christian, she had rather always remain a virgin than engage in a matrimonial alliance with any man of a different persuasion. She said, moreover, that unless a prospect of some great good, or of a result agreeable to God, were afforded, she had rather not embrace the engagements and difficulties inseparable from the marriage state.
The possibility of Fintan becoming a Christian and of renouncing idolatry having been established, an effort was made to learn the will of Gelgeis’s father on this matter. This king was a determined enemy of Christianity, however, and he was also found adverse to the question of his daughter’s marriage with a Christian.
Meantime, Ædfind had formed such a favourable opinion of Fintan, that he desired him to remain as one of his courtiers and to engage in his service. Not unwilling to live in a position, where he could enjoy the conversation and society of his beloved Gelgeis, Fintan consented; and gradually their intercourse became more impassioned; nor was this unknown or unnoticed by their confidants at court, although the father of Gelgeis did not suspect her affections had been thus bestowed on the young warrior and stranger.
The counsellors of the young couple, after mature consideration, thought it better to advise a marriage, even although the father’s consent could not be obtained; and thus those friends were chiefly instrumental in procuring a matrimonial alliance between Fintan and Gelgeis. Mutual consent and faithful love blessed their union. Fintan abjured the worship of idols, and married Gelgeis, according to the prescribed rites of the Church. The parents of both parties were ignorant, however, regarding these proceedings.
In due course of time, Gelgeis was about to give birth to a child; but soon her condition became known to Ædfind, who instituted inquiries, and at last he obtained the revelation of what had occurred. Inflamed with a hatred of the Christian religion, and construing the secret marriage of Gelgeis as indicating contempt for paternal authority, King Ædfind resolved on allaying the flames of his own wrath by condemning his daughter to a most cruel death.
The unnatural tyrant commanded, that she should be conducted to a pyre, which had been prepared for the purpose, and which afterwards was to be set in flames. This intelligence caused the chiefs and nobles, together with the people, to feel deepest affliction, while all orders and classes of persons greatly deplored the impending fate of their beloved princess, whose virtues and graces were so universally esteemed.
When Gelgeis heard of this fearful sentence, she deemed it right to offer an explanation of her motives, with her apologies for the secret course she had taken. Still fearing his ungovernable rage, she suppliantly approached her father to offer dutiful submission, and those reasons that induced her to engage in the matrimonial state. Notwithstanding her tears and entreaties, he scarcely allowed her a hearing, but gave orders that immediate preparations should be made for her execution.
As the dynast was known to be of an implacable and a hasty temper, no one dared advocate her cause or intercede for a remission of her sentence, lest the king’s anger might be excited against the intercessor.
However, Ædfind’s elder brother Brandubh chanced to be present at that time when Gelgeis had been condemned to the flames. Meantime, some chiefs had waited on the king’s brother, and Brandubh entered completely into their views, feeling a deep compassion for the sad condition of his niece. This king is said to have used all his influence to overcome Ædfind’s cruel resolution.
He urged remonstrances as to what judgment the neighbouring kings, all Ireland, foreign nations, and all posterity, must arrive at, in consideration of such a shocking barbarity. He besought the king not to stain his reputation and that of his family, by such an unheard-of wickedness, nor to grieve the hearts of all his subjects, by inflicting on them such a mortal wound—in fine, that he should be ashamed to be considered as a tyrant over a woman; as an unnatural parent sacrificing his own daughter; as an unjust man acting against a just person; or as a wicked judge oppressing an innocent princess.
But all these arguments were vainly urged; for neither entreaties, reason, pity, nor kindred were able to move the arbitrary tyrant. This latter even urged the executioners to obey commands given, and he warned the people to interpose no obstacle thereto, under pain of incurring his displeasure.
The time fixed for the execution of Gelgeis approached, and a vast crowd assembled. In silence, the people stood around, while Brandubh and the chiefs lamented the impending fate of the princess. Sorrow and distress were visible in the countenances of all spectators.
However, when human patronage is wanting, it often pleases the Almighty to interpose His providence in an effectual manner, on behalf of injured innocence. The divine care and complacency entertained for Gelgeis were soon manifested. The infant then carried in her womb, and who had not yet seen the light, began to plead the cause of his mother, in a clear and distinct voice.
Against her inhuman parent he bitterly inveighed, because that tyrant sought the death of an innocent person, and because he pronounced an unjust sentence, without favourably hearing a daughter’s justification. The king was declared guilty of an unnatural cruelty towards Gelgeis, because he had ordered executioners to satiate his blind rage, passion, and frenzy, instead of exercising the judgment of an equitable and a merciful ruler and parent.
Fear and wonder took possession of those Pagans who were present, while pious impetration and hope characterised the assembled Christians. The former superstitiously imagined themselves hearing some sound or complaint of a passing spectre, and not that of a human voice; while the latter conceived, that those words proceeded from the Almighty Himself, recognising the words of inspired Scripture: “God hath done all things whatsoever He hath wished, both in heaven and on earth.”
Instead of being mollified by the miracle recorded, Ædfind allowed his mind to become still more obstinate and unyielding. Losing all temper at the idea of being foiled in his intentions, the king ordered his executioner to prepare three different fires.
When his daughter approached nearer to the prepared pyre, she asked one favour from her father. The object she had in view was to offer up a short prayer to the Almighty on behalf of her immortal soul. That favour he granted. She thus spoke:
“My God and my hope from youth. Thou who art a protector in all anguish and tribulation, behold how I have loved Thy truths, since those who are just obtain eternal life. Before Thee, in my heart, I desire to cherish faith, and to make a true confession, in the presence of many witnesses.
“O Lord, in whose sight the very depths of our souls are revealed, Thou knowest that I have not sought the marriage for which I am now adjudged to the flames, on account of worldly satisfaction or honour; but, moved by Thy inspirations, and owing to the counsels of my faithful friends, I desired to win my spouse for Thee, and to bring forth an offering worthy of Thee, who should sustain Thy afflicted Church, overthrow idolatry, and the tyrannic sway of a prince, that should rule by his virtues in this quarter.
“Wherefore, O Lord, have mercy on me, and may my death end in life everlasting. On account of Thy glorious name, preserve the fruit of my womb; for when through Thy divine will he was conceived, I dedicated him to Thy service.
“O Lord God, let Thy mercy attend to Thy handmaid’s supplication, now asking Thee in tears, for the safety of one I should hereafter be obliged to bring forth in pain. Protect him under the shadow of Thy wings, that he may produce fruits for Thee in Thy Church, and that his enemies may recognise him when seen; because in the day of tribulation, Thou wilt not forsake those trusting in Thee, nor wilt Thou leave unsupported those oppressed by the proud and tyrannical.”
Having thus prayed, Gelgeis is said to have been brought forth by the executioners, and committed to the flames. On beholding the fire preparing to consume her, a flood of tears came from her eyes. This proved the occasion of another astonishing miracle. For when those tears watered the ground, a gushing fountain sprang up, and a heavy shower of rain fell from the skies at the same time. It pleased the Almighty, by such means, to extinguish those fires prepared for her destruction.
In this manner, Gelgeis was preserved from harm, nor even was any portion of her garments consumed. The people were wonderfully rejoiced at this great triumph of innocence and justice. They also demanded with loud cries the death of her unnatural parent.
Still not becoming a convert in consequence of those miracles, yet Ædfind relented in his meditated scheme of cruelty. A popular insurrection even broke out because of this miracle, which resulted in the safety of Gelgeis. According to Saint Fursey’s older Acts, the influence of ecclesiastics had been exerted in appeasing this seditious tumult; but Gelgeis’ entreaties procured her father’s safety from his own subjects.
Nevertheless, Ædfind resolved that Gelgeis and her husband should be banished from his territories. Then Fintan began to consider, whether he should go back to his father in Munster, or select another patron, his uncle St. Brendan, who lived still nearer that place.
At this time, that distinguished and holy abbot had a monastic establishment on the Island of Inisquin, or Inchiquin, in Lough Orbsen, now Lough Corrib. Fintan thereupon resolved to seek the latter in his monastery.
Having had a revelation, that a great plenitude of divine wisdom was hereafter to dwell in St. Fursey, the holy Brendan enjoined a fast of three days on himself and upon his community. No sooner had Fintan and Gelgeis arrived on the island, than a lodging was prepared for them in the guest-house of the monastery, while every care and courtesy was lavished on them by the great abbot, known as the Navigator, who discovered the greater Ireland in the Western Ocean, and who was afterwards the Bishop of Clonfert.
A great and brilliant light surrounded the house, as if promising to indicate the advent of another light, which was soon to shine upon earth; and, when her time had elapsed, Gelgeis brought forth her son, who was destined for a high and holy mission.
The following continuation of narrative is to be found in the older Acts of St. Fursey. Nevertheless, places and persons are greatly confounded, so as to prevent any clear historic sequence or identification.
Brendan received the boy, and conferred on him the sacrament of Baptism, bestowing the name Fursey at the same time. This name is said, by Desmay, to have had the signification of “Virtue,” in the Irish or Scottish language. The abbot Brendan not only supplied corporal food to his spiritual son, but in course of time trained him up in monastic discipline, and in a knowledge of sacred learning, for which the boy had such a special aptitude.
It need scarcely be added, that in after time occurred those celebrated ecstasies of St. Fursey, which took place in his monastery, and that were written in a book. From this Venerable Bede transcribed them into his Ecclesiastical History of England, composed in the eighth century. One of the brothers of Bede’s monastery used to relate those visions, as he heard them told by a religious man, who had learned them from St. Fursey’s own lips, when he dwelt among the East Angles. That account described his transport in spirit to Hell, Purgatory, and Paradise.
The historians of general literature have hardly traced with distinctness those originals from which the finest works of imagination have been produced. Strange as it may appear, and with all the profusion of comment bestowed on the subject, few writers have been able to state the sequence of intellectual delight, which has been drawn from the “Vision of St. Fursey.” That composition afterwards became the model on which was founded the visions of Adamnan, and of Tundal. It was closely imitated by Frate Alberico, a monk of Monte Cassino. It became the most widespread and popular romance of the ages preceding Dante. The latter took from it his ideas, and formed on it the plan and ground-work for his sublime poem; while various scenes and passages of the original are reproduced, but with some additions from more ancient and classical sources, in the immortal Divina Commedia.
