N that charming mediaeval romance, Fortunatus and his Sons, which, by the way, is a treasury of Popular Mythology, is an account of a visit paid by the favoured youth to that cave of mystery in Lough Derg, the Purgatory of S. Patrick.
Fortunatus, we are told, had heard in his travels
of how two days’ journey from the town, Valdric, in Ireland, was a town, Vernic, where was the entrance to the Purgatory; so thither he went with many servants. He found a great abbey, and behind the altar of the church a door, which led into the dark cave which is called the Purgatory of S. Patrick. In order to enter it, leave had to be obtained from the abbot; consequently, Leopold, servant to Fortunatus, betook himself to that worthy, and made known to him that a nobleman from Cyprus desired to enter the mysterious cavern. The abbot at once requested Leopold to bring his master to supper with him. Fortunatus bought a large jar of wine, and sent it as a present to the monastery, and followed at the meal time.
“Venerable sir!” said Fortunatus, “I understand
the Purgatory of S. Patrick is here; is it so?”
The abbot replied, “It is so indeed. Many
hundred years ago, this place, where stand the
abbey and the town, was a howling wilderness. Not far off, however, lived a venerable hermit, Patrick by name, who often sought the desert for the purpose of therein exercising his austerities. One day he lighted on this cave, which is of vast extent. He entered it, and wandering on in the dark, lost his way, so that he could no more find how to return to the light of day. After long ramblings through the gloomy passages, he fell on his knees, and besought Almighty God, if it were His will, to deliver him from the great peril wherein he lay. Whilst Patrick thus prayed, he was ware of piteous cries issuing from the depths of the cave, just such as would be the wailings of souls in purgatory. The hermit rose from his orison, and by God’s mercy found his way back to the surface, and from that day exercised greater austerities, and after his death he was numbered with the saints. Pious people, who had heard the story of Patrick’s adventure in the cave, built this cloister on the site.”
Then Fortunatus asked whether all who ventured
into the place heard likewise the howls of the tormented
souls.
The abbot replied, “Some have affirmed that
they have heard a bitter crying and piping therein; whilst others have heard and seen nothing. No one, however, has penetrated, as yet, to the furtheest limits of the cavern.”
Fortunatus then asked permission to enter, am
the abbot cheerfully consented, only stipulating
that his guest should keep near the entrance, and
not ramble too far, as some who had ventured in
had never returned.
Next day, early, Fortunatus received the Blessed
Sacrament with his trusty Leopold; the door
of the Purgatory was unlocked, each was provided
with a taper, and then with the blessing of
the abbot they were left in total darkness, and the
door bolted behind them. Both wandered on in
the cave, hearing faintly the chanting of the monks
in the church, till the sound died away. They
traversed several passages, lost their way, their
candles burned out, and they sat down in despair
on the ground, a prey to hunger, thirst, and
fear.
The monks waited in the church hour after hour; and the visitors of the Purgatory had not returned. Day declined, vespers were sung, and still there was no sign of the two who in the morning had passed from the church into the cave. Then the servants of Fortunatus began to exhibit anger, and to insist on their master being restored to them. The abbot was frightened, and sent for an old man who had once penetrated far into the cave, with a ball of twine, the end attached to the door handle. This man volunteered to seek Fortunatus, and providentially his search was successful. After this the abbot refused permission to any one to visit the cave.