Vision of Tundale
Vision of Tundale
Vision of Tundale
anon
This account has been translated and retold from: Foster, Ed-
ward E (Ed), 2004. Three Purgatory Poems: The Gast of Gy,
Sir Owain, The Vision of Tundale. Medieval Institute Publi-
cations. TEAMS Middle English texts. The Middle English
text is found in five manuscripts dating to the fifteenth cen-
tury, including National Library of Scotland MS Advocates
19.3.1 and British Library MS Cotton Caligula A.ii.
J usu Cryst, lord of myghttus most · Fader and Son and Holy Gost · Grant hem alle Thi blessyng · That lys-
Jesus Christ, mightiest of lords, Father, Son and Holy Spirit,
tenyght me to my endyng –
bless everybody who will hear me to the end! If you will all stay and listen, I shall tell you
things that will make you quake with fear and seek absolution from me here, afterwards,
for your misdeeds!
It happened in Ireland in the year 1149, as it is written, to a The Vision of Tundale was first writ-
wealthy man whose name was Tundale. He was a notorious ten in Latin during the latter half of
fellow, well-endowed with goods but bereft of all goodness! the twelfth century, during the span
of decades that produced the writ-
Treacherous, envious, proud and angry, he was quick to seize ings of Chrétien de Troyes, Marie de
the wealth of others but slow to do any service to God. His France, Thomas of Britain and Hue
favourite pastimes were fornication and stuffing himself with de Rotelande. Its author was Marcus,
an Irish Benedictine monk who moved
food and drink! Mercy was not in his vocabulary. He loved
to the Scots Monastery at Regensburg
neither God nor Holy Church, had a heart that felt no pity in Germany and was asked to write
and gave nothing away in charity. He harboured all sorts of down this story that he had brought
criminals in his retinue and loved nothing better than to gos- from Ireland. Immensely popular
throughout the Middle Ages, it was
sip and to stitch people up. He loved fighting and conflict. translated into many languages. In
He was the worst of all men. And yet, God as Christ in His addition to the present volume, this
infinite mercy found it hard to destroy a soul that He had Middle English version is found in five
manuscripts of the fifteenth century,
once redeemed from hell, so he gave Tundale a stern warn-
including Cotton Caligula A ii in
ing. As he lay unconscious, his soul was taken on a dreadful which is also found the stories of Sir
journey through some horrible places before returning to his Isumbras, Emaré, the Fair Unknown,
body again. And Tundale was well able to recall the things Sir Eglamour of Artois, Sir Launfal,
Octavian and Cheuelere Assigne.
that he had seen in purgatory and hell. You will learn about
these nasty experiences that he had if you will listen!
Tundale had a number of friends, but he loved to deceive people. Many were frightened
of him because he was impulsive and his word meant nothing. When he lent out nine
shillings he demanded ten back in return, charged extra still for any delay and gave noth-
ing to the Church. He would ask for more than a fair amount when selling something
and would raise the price even further if payment was not prompt.
One day, Tundale went to collect some silver that was owing to him for three horses that
he had sold, but the man who had bought the animals asked Tundale for more time to
pay. The man offered Tundale oaths of assurance. Tundale became angry and threatened
the poor fellow, increasing the price hugely because he could not pay at once. He was no
beginner in business and made the man sign a written agreement.
This fellow who had bought the horses controlled himself admirably, spoke to Tundale
courteously, lifted him out of his rage and invited him to stay for lunch. But when they
were at the table, Tundale suddenly began to feel very unwell. After eating only a mouth-
ful of food, his arm became paralysed. He cried out and looked as though he had seen a
vision of Death. ‘Dear Lady,’ he called to the mistress of the house, ‘for mercy, fetch me
my weapons and help me to your door, for I think that my end is near. I feel my strength
ebbing. I sense that I am nigh to death. I am certain of it! Oh Jesus Christ! Have mercy
upon me!’ And Tundale made an effort to rise from the table, but instead, he collapsed
to the floor.
Tundale’s close friends, his nephews and cousins who had accompanied him, sensing
immediately that something was wrong, came running up only to find him lying dead
on the ground. They had the bells rung for him and sang the Placebo and the Dirge. All
his clothes were removed and he lay there as cold as a stone; except for a little warmth
in his left side. Because of this warmth some declared that he might not be dead after
all and therefore they left him lying there. But nonetheless, he lay like a dead man from
midday on Wednesday until Saturday afternoon. And when he regained consciousness
he could recall all that had happened to him
as he was stretched out there dead. Listen to
what this was! Listen please!
When Tundale collapsed, his spirit quickly
departed from his body. And as soon as he
was dead his soul came into a dark place,
alone and wretched – it wept and was very
distressed. Tundale thought that he had come
to the place of eternal pain and damnation!
He thought he would never exist in his body
again, because of the sins that his flesh had
committed and that he would not be able to
conceal. He would rather that the Earth could
have returned! But he was to suffer and witness many hideous things and understand the
range of joys and punishments that await us all, as this story shall bear witness.
A s the spirit of Tundale stood in great confusion and dread, he saw an awesome
collection of foul fiends rampaging towards him with mouths gaping like a pack
of wild wolves. He wanted to flee for his life but had no idea how to do so. The fiends
arrived and Tundale, understandably terrified, expected to be torn to pieces by them.
To look at them was to move beyond fear; their bodies were black and dirty and the
ground shook as they growled horribly. Their eyes were wide and sparkled like fire as
though they were consumed with rage. Their huge open mouths spat out flames. They
were filled with fire. Their lips hung beneath their chins exposing long teeth and wide
throats, and their tongues hung out at the side, like a dog’s. On their feet and hands
they had great claws and horny pads and their tails were sodden and poisonous. Their
claws were as keen as sharpened steel – no man could feel any sharper – and from these
creatures came the foulest stink that anyone could imagine! They clawed at each other’s
faces and inflicted horrific wounds upon one another. Then they grimly cast their eyes
upon Tundale and roared in unison: ‘Let’s set about this wicked ghost who has always
given a willing ear to our counsel and done as we have urged! Let’s sing him a song of
death, for he is one of ours!’
The fiends crowded around Tundale and shouted: ‘You wretched, sinful creature, there is
a place in hell reserved for you, for you are one of us now! You are a daughter of Death.
Eternal fire shall befriend you. Darkness shall be your companion and light shall be your
enemy. You have lied and deceived. You love conflict, as we all do. You have had sex with
married women! Every vice imaginable is ingrained into your character! You could have
mended your ways while you lived but you chose not to. And where is all your wealth
now? Where is your gold and your treasure? What good can it do you now? All the
wealth on Earth, and all the prayers that may be said for your soul, all the Matins and
Masses, cannot save you now from the pain of hell and eternal damnation!
‘You concealed your sins from the Church and confessed nothing. Therefore you must
come with us! Your life has shown you to be one of us, you villain! Come with us then,
to eternal damnation!’
The ghost of Tundale stood; it was as dark as night, but then a bright star appeared.
Tundale gazed at the star and found comfort in its light, for he felt a glimmer of hope as
he thought upon God’s mercy. The star took on the
form of Tundale’s guardian angel.
The angel approached and greeted him courteously.
‘Tundale,’ he said, ‘what are you doing here?’
When he heard the shining angel speak his name,
Tundale was very happy and cried: ‘Sweet father,
mercy! For my sins, these fiends are trying to lead
me to the fires of hell!’
‘You call me father and lord now,’ replied the angel,
‘but why did you not before? I was beside you morn-
ing and evening, and have been ever since you were born, but you would not listen to
me or do anything I asked.’
‘Lord, I have never seen you before,’ insisted Tundale. ‘I have never heard you say any-
thing.’
The mighty angel fearlessly approached one of the fiends. ‘Tundale,’ he called, ‘this is the
hideous and terrifying creature that you have always listened to. You have guided your
life by its will and by nothing of mine. But God’s mercy might still save you, although
you don’t deserve it and you shall not earn it without a hard struggle.’
Tundale was relieved to hear this, although he was afterwards put sorely to the test, for
he came among dreadful suffering and shared in much of it, so that he could better re-
call things from bitter experience when he came back into his body. The angel brought
Tundale out of that place, for he thought he had been frightened enough. When the
fiends saw that Tundale was escaping from them they began to roar and scream and cried
dreadful oaths against God: ‘You are unjust!’ they cried. ‘You deceive and mislead! You
said you would bring a man a swift reward according to his deserts! Tundale is ours by
right! He has lived a wicked life and served us unfailingly. If we have to leave him here,
you wrong us!’
They roared out their anger and frustration, bit and scratched one another and released
such a stink that no earthly man has ever smelt its like!
The angel turned to Tundale. Follow me,’ he said quickly.
‘Then it will be the last you will ever see of me!’ replied Tundale. ‘These fiends will seize
me from behind and carry me off to hellfire!’
‘Don’t worry about them,’ replied the angel. ‘They are not able to take you from me.
However many you think are here, there are in fact a great many more still, and with
equally sharp claws, but while God walks with us they can do us no harm.’
When the angel had finished speaking he led Tundale through a dark tunnel. There
was no light except for that which the angel himself emitted and soon they came into a
gloomy valley. What Tundale saw there worried him greatly and he shook with anxiety as
he studied the dismal landscape and smelt the stench that filled the air. The ground was
an expanse of burning coals and over the hot coals
was laid iron that was glowing red from the heat;
the bars of metal rose to the height of a man and the
flames passed through them as though designed to
inflict the severest pain from the intense heat it gave
to the iron and the acrid stench of carbon and sul-
phur. Nothing before had ever frightened Tundale
so much as this sight did, for fiends were laying souls
out upon the iron and these souls were consumed
in the stinking heat and melted like wax in a pan
and the molten liquid passed through the iron and
the coals like paraffin through a cloth to be collected
and re-formed and put back by the fiends onto the iron once more for the torment to
begin afresh.
‘Here is a place of great distress,’ said the angel. ‘These souls have all been guilty of mur-
der or complicity to murder. There is no release from this agony and it shall have no end
for them, although their torment is not confined only to what you see here. You may still
escape this pain yourself, although you have well deserved it.
They moved on and came to a great mountain and here Tundale heard cries of distress.
One side of the mountain, it seemed, was alight; there was smoke and fire and it stank
of tar and sulphur. On the other side of the mountain the ground was covered with thick
snow and ice and the air was lashed by blizzards. Tundale saw many wicked fiends filling
the air with their roars and yells and they held tongs and forks in their hands and red-
hot iron skewers which they used to prod at the wretched souls, snatching them out of
the fire and thrusting them towards the cold snow, then out of the snow and back again
into the fire. And so their pain alternated from burning to freezing and back again to
burning.
‘This is the punishment allotted to thieves,’
explained the angel, ‘and to those who rob
or take things away against the owner’s will
through deception or fraud, or in other ways
manage to dupe a man into parting with his
lawful possessions.
When they had seen all this torment, they
continued further on their journey.
The angel led the way and Tundale followed
behind him, fearful and afraid, until they
came to another valley. It was dark and deep
and Tundale’s soul was apprehensive when he
saw it for he had seen nothing like it on Earth. The floor of the depression was so far
beneath them that it was hidden from sight, but they could hear the cries and screams
of burning souls coming from below. Out of the great pit came a horrible stench of tar
and sulphur and it seemed to Tundale to be by far the most evil place that he had ever
been.
On the other side of the pit stood another mountain and across the gorge hung a bridge
that was a thousand yards long and barely a foot wide. This bridge shook so much that
it seemed impossible for any man to cross it safely, be he learned or ignorant, or any
woman; none except perhaps a holy man who had led a perfect life. Tundale saw many
souls falling off this bridge. The only person he saw cross successfully was a priest who
had been on pilgrimage; he was holding a palm frond and, just as he had in life, so in
death he trod a difficult path with only himself for company.
Tundale said to the angel: ‘I have never been so scared. There is no possibility that I
could ever cross this bridge!’
“Don’t worry,” replied the angel. “You shall avoid this punishment, although many oth-
ers lie in store for you. This grievous torment is reserved for the over-proud and the
boastful.” And the angel quickly took Tundale by the hand and led him across, much to
his relief.
They continued their way together down a long, dark path, and Tundale’s soul had no
idea where the journey was leading. But at last they came into the light and Tundale
saw a vast and fearsome thing; a huge boar that was bigger than any mountain he had
ever seen; the span of its eyes was wider than a valley! Nine thousand men could easily
ride into its mouth and between its tusks hung two giants! Tundale could see the head
of one of the giants dangling down and the feet of another, and the centre of the boar’s
mouth was held apart with two pillars in such a way that it formed an entrance like three
open gates. Vast flames of fire issued from its mouth and such a horrible smell that it is
impossible to imagine it or to describe. Within, they could hear the anguished cries of
thousands of souls screaming and lamenting: ‘God help us!’ they cried. ‘Have we de-
served this?’ Many thousands of eager devils hovered in front of the boar’s mouth, busy-
ing themselves and using their strength with burning rods to shepherd souls towards this
place of torment.
When Tundale saw this creature and the evil spirits around its mouth and heard the hid-
eous cries coming from within, he turned to the angel and said: ‘What does this horrible
sight mean?’
‘This beast is called Acheron,’ replied the angel. ‘You
will have to go through it if we are to continue our
journey. None may pass unscathed from this pun-
ishment except those who have led a clean and per-
fect life. This huge beast, I have to tell you, swallows
all covetous men, all those who in life were never
content with what they had but whose pride drove
them to seize more and more, which they will now
have ample time to regret. It is written in the Bible
that a beast shall swallow the covetous. This beast
has such a craving that every drop of water that has
ever swelled the rivers of the Earth could not satisfy its thirst. This torment is therefore
suitable for those who have never been satisfied with what they have and never thought
that God had given them enough. And those giants that you see hanging between the
boar’s tusks, they did not believe in the word of God but followed their own law, and
they were called Fergus mac Roi and Conall Cernach who figure in the Ulster Cycle of
pagan Irish legend.’
‘Alas!’ replied Tundale. ‘What torment they must be going through if they have to dan-
gle there forever.’
‘I wouldn’t gloat,’ replied the angel, ‘for you have lived like them.’
As the angel said this, they approached so near to the creature that they stood before it,
much to Tundale’s concern. Then the angel disappeared suddenly. Tundale was petrified
with fear! The fiends came quickly and bound him up, then cast him into the beast’s
mouth. He was beaten by evil spirits, his bones were gnawed at by hungry lions and his
vital organs pulled out by dragons. Venomous snakes consumed his limbs. Fire burned
him, then ice froze him. His tears stung his cheeks like fire. He was full of woe! There
was a strong stink of sulphur. He was tormented in many ways. He tore at his own
cheeks with his nails! For each sin he had ever committed he was punished. Nothing was
hidden. Despair was his constant companion. He could see no hope of escape.
But suddenly Tundale was released. He had no idea how it happened, but he was very
pleased that it had. One moment all hope had been abandoned and the next he found
himself free. He lay for a while as though dead and then raised himself into a sitting po-
sition. The angel was standing in front of him. The light from the angel comforted him
and when the angel touched Tundale he gave him strength and made him well. Then
Tundale wept for the love of God.
And so they passed that place of torment. But there were more to come.
The pair of them continued upon their journey until they came to a dreadful lake. The
waves towered above them and the crash of the water was deafening. Within the lake
there were huge beasts with large eyes that burned like lamps at night as they roared and
made the water bubble furiously around them. These creatures waited on either side to
swallow the souls that were their main prey; for over the lake hung a long, narrow bridge
– it was two miles in length and it seemed to Tundale to be scarcely the width of a hand.
Set into it were sharp spikes of iron and steel that were grievous to touch. No one could
cross that bridge without sustaining severe injuries to his feet!
The hideous creatures in the lake drew closer to the bridge in hope born of experience;
they were huge and they fed upon falling souls. Tundale saw fire coming from their
mouths and all the water around them boiled. The noise they made was appalling!
On the bridge Tundale noticed a figure on the far side with a sack of corn on his back.
The man was groaning piteously and lamenting all his sins. The spikes cut harshly at his
feet but his greatest fear was the creatures in the water, who were waiting expectantly for
their meal.
Tundale asked the bright angel: ‘What does this awful bridge mean?’
‘It is for those who have robbed and taken men’s property,’ the angel replied, ‘be they
common men or learned scholars, and those who have stolen from Holy Church. But
some have more torment and some less, depending upon the gravity of their sins. Some
have not balked at burning down a church! Others are fickle and disloyal. Some rob
from churches, which is termed sacrilege. Those who have committed crimes within a
church or desecrated a place of sanctuary, all these shall receive their punishment here.
The man on the bridge you can see carrying the sheaves of corn and crying out in dis-
tress, he stole the corn from Holy Church, for they were taxes he owed and did not pay.
You see how much they cost him now!
‘You shall cross this bridge leading a nervous cow. Watch out for her footing and be care-
ful as you lead her. When you have completed the crossing you may give her back to me.
This punishment is for stealing a cow.’
‘Mercy!’ replied Tundale. ‘Lord, have mercy! Even if I did steal the heifer, the friend I
stole her from got her back in the end.’
‘That is true – you were unable to keep what you had taken and because of this, your
torment shall be less than it might have been. But every wicked deed is punished, how-
ever small, and God is just as mindful to punish evil intent as he is to punish a successful
felony.’
As Tundale stood there anxiously, a wild cow was brought up. Regardless of the distress
he felt, Tundale was obliged to take hold of the cow. Unwillingly, he did as the angel
instructed, took the cow by the horns, manoeuvred
her carefully towards the crossing and began to lead
her across the bridge.
When they set foot upon the structure, the cow re-
fused to shift. Tundale saw the creatures in the lake
move ever closer to the bridge in expectation of a
swift meal. The cow nearly toppled over into the
water and Tundale almost fell over the other side.
He was beyond fear. Slowly and painfully he made
his way with the cow to the centre of the crossing,
sometimes with the cow leading, sometimes him.
They were both terrified.
Then they met with the person who was carrying the corn. Both now knew that they
were lost, for the bridge was too narrow for them to go past one another. The anguish of
both was extreme for neither could turn around and neither dared to even look behind
him! The sharp points that they had to walk on made their feet bleed so much that the
blood dripped down into the lake! The man carrying the sheaf of corn begged Tundale
to let him pass.
‘Let me by,’ he wept, ‘for there is no way that I can get past you unless you move aside.’
They both wept, for it was impossible for them to proceed.
As Tundale stood holding the cow, the angel appeared beside him. Then he found him-
self on dry land once more.
‘Let the cow go,’ said the angel. ‘Be assured, you don’t need to lead her anymore.’ Tun-
dale showed the angel his feet. ‘I cannot go a step further!’ he sobbed.
‘Let this be a warning of the difficulty of your path,’ replied the angel. Then he touched
Tundale’s feet and instantly the wounds healed.
‘Thank you!’ exclaimed Tundale.
‘You will soon find that another great anguish awaits us,’ replied the angel, ‘and from this
one there will be no escape! You must come with me, for you have no other choice.’
Tundale and the angel continued their journey, through dark ways and wilderness, until
they came to a building that was as large and as high as a mountain. It was built like
an oven with a wide mouth at the front and from this aperture great flames emerged,
shooting a thousand feet across the ground into crowds of souls that the evil spirits had
brought before it, burning them all to nothing.
Tundale turned to the angel and said: ‘This is a dreadful place – it looks like the very
gates of Death. Please tell me that I don’t have to spend an eternity here!’
‘You shall not spend an eternity here,’ the good angel reassured him.
‘God would have given great power,’ said Tundale, ‘to the person who could deliver me
from this place.’
‘Don’t be frightened,’ replied the angel. ‘But you must go into this building, although
the fire shall not harm you.’
As Tundale approached nearer to this great structure, he could see butchers standing
in the midst of the flames; some were holding sharp knives and fearsome cleavers, oth-
ers were wielding saws, forks for skewering meat over a fire, broad axes and instru-
ments designed to drill holes into bone. They made an engaging sight! Some held very
long knives and others, sharp hooks. Tundale looked on with horror at the way these
fiends butchered the souls. Some struck off the head,
others the thighs, arms, legs at the knees, and some
hacked the souls into pieces. Yet they were all soon
restored back again into their original shapes, only
to be seized once more by the butchers! Tundale was
horrified at this punishment.
‘Deliver me from this terror!’ he cried to the angel.
‘I implore you! I have never seen anything like it! I
will suffer anything else you want me to, anything
at all!’
‘You think this torment is dreadful,’ replied the an-
gel, ‘but, nevertheless, you are required to endure it, as you shall be many others, as you
will soon discover.’
The hideousness of this punishment affected Tundale more than that of any of the oth-
ers he had seen. But there was worse to come! For within the fire that raged inside this
evil building Tundale caught sight of a terrifying dog. The sight petrified him. Tundale
pleaded with the angel to let him escape from this frightening hell. But the angel was
unyielding.
Evil spirits approached Tundale with their grim tools and terrifying equipment, seized
him and chopped him into little pieces. But he could not die and soon found that his
body was restored once again. Tundale heard a cacophony of howling and groaning
while he was there. The fire that he had seen streaking out from the building burnt up
everything within and all the souls were ravenous with hunger for there was nothing to
eat but dry ash. Tundale saw many in this place who had had their genitals eaten away
and he saw clergymen who were riddled with parasites and vermin; their limbs were
bitten and raw and there were grubs and parasites eating away inside them! Tundale per-
sonally recognised some of those who were there and knew that they had deserved this
fate. But soon he found himself looking at the building from the outside once more. He
did not know how he had escaped from it, but he was very happy to have done so! He
next found himself standing in a dark place called the Cauldron of Dread. He could see
nothing but his angel standing before him.
‘Alas!’ he said. ‘Where is the truth of the saying that God’s mercy surpasses all things? I
have seen no sign of it!’
‘That saying deceives many,’ replied the an-
gel, ‘and I will explain it to you. Although
God is full of mercy, he is constrained to do
the proper thing. But he forgives wickedness
more often than ever he finds goodness and
wisdom. The torments you have suffered here
have been lenient compared to those you have
deserved.’
Tundale knelt and thanked God that he had
escaped from these torments so quickly!
‘Who would pay any heed to God,’ contin-
ued the angel, ‘if He were always to forgive a
man his sins without any pain of punishment? A man would never need to do any good
if this was the case. But those who are sinful and have done no penance but who are
repentant shall receive no vengeance from God. Through His mercy they shall be saved.
And yet their souls shall feel pain for the sins they have committed. Often God will
cause a man’s possessions to be taken from him so that his pain can be reduced when he
gets here. For if a man knows the benefit of poverty and thanks God for it, then his soul
shall suffer the less when he dies and he shall soon say farewell to all pain and achieve
everlasting bliss. But there is no one in the world who is so good nor so perfect, not even
a new-born baby, that he shall not have to endure some torment in purgatory. But he
who is eager to love God shall escape much of it, and certainly more than the man who
is damned to hell for his wickedness. The damned shall be able to see such joy in heaven
that no greater comfort could be imagined, but they will not be able to experience any
of it, and this shall bring them more pain and anguish than all the terrors of hell put
together. But that priest who had been a palmer and whom you saw crossing the bridge,
he saw all the punishments but had to experience none of them for he always loved God
and served him well, and has been rewarded. He shall not miss the joys of Paradise and
he shall find exalted bliss!’
When the angel had said all this to strengthen Tundale’s heart, he led him forwards as
Tundale followed hesitantly behind.
Soon, they came upon a hideous creature that filled Tundale with terror. It seemed more
evil and dangerous than anything he had seen before, with two enormous black wings
and with claws of iron and steel protruding from its feet. Its neck was long and slen-
der but held a huge head in which burned two red eyes, set wide apart, and its mouth
was wide and spat fire in a seemingly inextinguishable stream. Its nose was tipped with
iron!
The beast sat in the middle of a frozen lake swallowing terrified souls which burned in-
side its body until they were nearly wasted away. But then they were expelled from this
horror in the creature’s excrement and left until they had recovered and become whole
once again. They were sorely bruised from this ordeal and cried out in pain, just like a
woman in childbirth, and suffered greatly for their sins. But then things began to bite at
them from the inside; snakes and rats! When they understood what was happening, they
made such a huge and terrified lamentation that the noise of it filled all of hell! Never
has such a noise been heard from men and women before.
But a moment of unimaginable horror could not be avoided. The snakes inside them
prepared to emerge. They did so not only from the private parts but from every limb,
head and feet, back and side; they slid through abdomen and chest, and through every
joint, and made their exit all at once, sparing neither flesh nor bones. They were long,
with iron heads and had tails with barbs, and when their tails became caught because of
the barbs, as they pulled themselves through the holes that they had made, they turned
their heads inward and gnawed at the flesh and bone, exposing all the joints and biting
until all the insides had been consumed, thrusting their heads in and out. But still their
tails were caught, until the soul’s whole body was alive with a writhing, gnawing, flaying
and tormenting such that the screams of terror might have risen up to heaven itself, so
hideous it all was! The souls cried in anguish and lamented their foolishness and their
sins. But they were not delivered from this pain; the cycle was renewed and they had to
endure it again and again!
‘Lord, this is a dreadful sight,’ said Tundale to the angel. ‘I think this is worse than any-
thing I have ever seen.’
‘This torment is ordained for men of religion who have strayed from their profession,’
replied the angel. ‘Monks, clerics, priests and canons and other men and women of Holy
Church who have indulged their carnal desires and enjoyed other such delights, ignor-
ing the strictures of their order and leading their lives as they wish. They shall suffer for
this for eternity if they do not mend their ways before it is too late. And for the same
crimes that you have committed, you shall suffer this as well.’
As the angel finished speaking, the fiends led Tundale inside the hideous creature and
here he burned in a fierce heat for a long time and suffered dreadful torment.
But at last the creature expelled Tundale and he swelled up as though he would burst,
he was so full of worms and snakes pressed tightly together inside him that only their
hideous escape could release them. But then Tundale saw the angel standing patiently
before him. The angel touched Tundale with his hand and brought him out of this
nightmare.
‘Come with me,’ the angel said. ‘And follow close behind, for it is required that you
should witness still more pain.’ They travelled onwards, and Tundale took no pleasure
from the journey. He found himself travelling through darkness; it was unpleasant for
there was nothing to see by at all, except for the light which the angel emitted. They
continued their way without interruption for a long while and it was the worst journey
that Tundale had ever taken, for the path was so difficult and it descended so steeply,
down narrow steps as though into a gorge. The longer Tundale followed, the less sure he
was that the path had any end to it at all. The air had become bad and he began to fear
for his safety.
‘Where does this path lead?’ asked Tundale nerv-
ously, with tears in his eyes.
‘I will tell you where this path leads and where it
ends. It goes to the Place of Death.’ replied the an-
gel.
‘How can this be?’ answered Tundale. In the Bible it
is written that the road to everlasting death is large
and broad. This is a narrow path that you are leading
me down.’
‘The Bible speaks of the way of uncleanness and debauchery,’ said the angel. ‘That road
is easy to follow, but it is not the only way to everlasting death.’
And so they continued along the dark and lonely path until at last they came to the
bottom of the deep valley. Tundale stood aghast at what he saw! It was full of smithies.
Evil-looking blacksmiths were holding great hammers in their hands and hot glowing
tongs, casting distraught and weeping souls into the forges and then taking them out
again and beating them on the anvils with their hammers. The master of the smithy was
the Roman god Vulcan and, like all the others, smoke was coming from his mouth.
‘Look there!’ said the angel. ‘That devious fiend has lured many into sin! And for that
they shall be tormented in this place when they die.’
‘Will I have to suffer here?’ asked Tundale.
‘I’m afraid so,’ replied the angel.
Tundale was led to the smithy. Two of the smiths came running up with glowing tongs
and white-hot pokers in their hands; they grabbed at Tundale and led him into a place
of grim torture. Tundale was thrown into a forge that was glowing white, orange and
blue. Air was blown from a great bellows until the furnace was hot enough to melt iron.
Tundale began to burn, he and thousands of others, for souls were cast into these flames
a thousand at a time. Many were turned to steam, others to molten lead or to white-hot
iron. Then with iron hammers the devils laid into them as though they were mad! They
threw a thousand souls at a time into a long quenching trough just as men temper iron
and steel, and that was a grisly pain to feel. This torment was very prolonged, and yet,
they could not fully die. These fiends, black and dirty from the coal and the iron, each
consulted with his fellows how he could best inflict the most grievous harm – they did
not tire of their work. Each ingot was smashed open and the souls released once again
and each passed into the next smithy. ‘Have you taken from these souls all that you
want?’ they would cry. ‘Throw them over here, then, and let me see what I can do with
them.’
They roared and screamed and gesticulated, urging the souls to be handed over, receiv-
ing them with hooks and red-hot tongs. They thought they were not worked enough!
The devils thrust them into and out of the furnace, burning them in hot flames until
they were almost fully consumed.
After a while, Tundale was released from this terror, much to the displeasure of Vulcan
and his fiendish blacksmiths. All the other souls, however, had to remain where they
were.
When Tundale came away from this horror, he soon recovered and quickly heard the
angel’s voice again. The angel asked him how he was: ‘And now you can see,’ he said,
‘how well your sins have served you. Great anguish lies in store for you for your follies
and wicked delights. All those who were there with you, and who remain there still, are
those whom you followed. Let their fate be a lesson to you.’
Tundale could not say a word but stood there, speechless.
“But take comfort from this thought,’ said the angel. ‘If you have witnessed suffering
up to now, and have been forced to taste some yourself, know that greater suffering still
awaits you, but you shall survive it all. Some souls you see will not be so lucky, and will
lie in pain that lasts forever. Their misdeeds have caused them to be damned for all time
and their cry is one of everlasting lamentation. Those who seek God’s mercy are certain
to avoid that fate.’
When the angel had said all this, he laid his hand upon Tundale. Then Tundale was
healed and felt fully recovered. But yet, onwards they went.
Soon, a great darkness descended, a great blackness and the air suddenly became very
cold, so cold that Tundale could scarcely walk. He was very nearly frozen to death.
Frightened and in great and sudden pain, he trembled so much through cold and terror
that he could feel his whole head shaking and his teeth chattering. All the agony he had
ever felt before, he thought, had been nothing compared to this.
‘What is happening?’ he stammered. ‘My hands and feet won’t work. I cannot walk!’
The angel said nothing.
Tundale wept and was very frightened. The angel moved away.
When Tundale could no longer see ahead of him, he
tried to make his way forwards as best he could. He
knew he was on the road to hell.
Soon he began to hear the piteous cries of souls who
were suffering eternal damnation for their sins and
wickedness. Thunder cracked. No heart can conceive,
and no tongue can tell, how hideous are the noises
that he heard. The soul of Tundale stood in great
dread, shooting his gaze nervously about, expecting
every sharp crack to herald the fresh arrival of fiends
coming to seize him. In the flash of the lightening
he could see that he stood beside a deep pit from which rose a flame that stank so much
that it made him feel sick. He tried to move away from it but could achieve nothing now
except to begin to discern that from out of the pit rose a tall, round pillar that stretched
high up into the sky towards heaven. Flames were licking along its length on all sides
and around the pillar were fiends and souls flying, low and high, up and down, like the
sparkles from a bonfire in a wind. And when the souls were all burnt to ashes, they fell
back into the pit. Here they recovered and made another attempt to fly up the pole, and
in this way was their torture ever renewed. Tundale would far have preferred that the
Earth could have returned again, but out of his terror came the fear that he could not
return; he could not move his legs, he could only stand there, crippled with cold and
paralysed with fear and nearly insane with dread. He tore at his own cheeks in distress
and anguish at the thought that he could not go back to the world that he knew.
‘Alas!’ he cried. ‘What can I do? For now I know that I am dead!’
The wicked spirits, as they flew about the pillar, heard Tundale’s cries of dismay and
swept down upon him. They carried burning hooks that had been specially made to
torment souls.
‘Ah, a fine wretch!’ they cried. ‘You have made a good journey to visit us, but where have
you come from? Your foolishness and your wickedness certainly qualify you to burn in
these fires, and you have not yet felt real pain, for here we will destroy you properly. You
shall dwell with us in everlasting hellfire and burn in glowing flames for evermore! Do
not nurture any hope of deliverance, for you can never escape! You will stay in this place
with us forever, in perpetual darkness, and never again see the light. Nothing can save
you! We shall lead you to the very gates of hell, for you lived your life wickedly enough
for us to take you to see Satan, deep in the pit of hell, and there you shall remain, for
whoever persuaded you to come here did you no favours, and it is too late for him to
rescue you now. Be certain that you shall never see him again.’
They conferred amongst themselves and came to a decision: ‘We shall take this groaning
wretch to Satan, to be swallowed whole!’ they declared.
The fiends handled Tundale roughly and told him what they intended to do; their eyes
burned like lamps and they made a hideous noise, their teeth were long and black and
they had tusks! They had the bodies of dragons and the tails of scorpions, and each of
their claws was hooked like a ship’s anchor, as hard and as sharp as though it was made of
steel. With huge black wings they could fly wherever they pleased. They narrowed their
eyes and bared their teeth and Tundale looked on in heart-stopping terror.
Then the angel returned and the fiends fled quickly away.
‘Tundale,’ said the angel, ‘let your fear melt
away and turn into joy. Your pain shall soon
explode into light! From now on you are safe,
through God’s mercy. God has granted that
you shall experience no more torture, so be
glad, although you shall see more suffering.
Come with me quickly and I will show you
your mortal enemy, the greatest enemy that
mankind has ever known, the creature who
tries to tempt every person into wrongdo-
ing.’
They went a little further and came to the very
gates of hell itself. Here Tundale saw a great
pit. ‘Come here,’ said the angel, ‘and see something truly terrifying. Stand at the edge
and look down. It is pitch black down there but are you able to see all the demons and
souls? They are all so racked in torture that they will not see you staring down at them.
And you will shortly see Satan himself, bound to the floor of the pit of hell.’
Tundale did as he had been asked; he stood at the edge of the huge and cavernous exca-
vation and looked down into it with awe, because there he could see Satan tied to the
floor of the pit. Never before had he seen such a hideous sight! So ugly was that loath-
some creature and surrounded by such suffering and distress that, were a man to have
a hundred heads and mouths and each mouth a hundred tongues and every tongue the
ability to impart the wisdom and intelligence and experience of all the finest minds that
live, still it would not be enough to describe the pain that Tundale was looking at now
on the floor of the pit of hell. Tundale gazed intently at Satan and tried to frame words
that could describe the grim spectacle that he saw, but could come up with nothing. The
bound creature was more horrible than any Tundale had ever seen. Satan was huge and
as black as pitch; he had the shape of a man but must have been a hundred and fifty feet
in length! His shoulders were thirty feet across and his chest rose to fifteen feet above
the floor of the pit, and when he opened his mouth he swallowed a thousand souls at a
time. From his body came a thousand arms and hands and each hand had twenty fingers
and each finger was fifty feet long with nails as hard as iron, sharper and longer than the
lances that knights use in war. With a terrifying array of teeth he chewed the souls that
came into his mouth before swallowing them down, and with a long tail that was full of
hooks and barbs he caught and impaled the souls that were to serve as his next mouthful.
He lay upon black burning coals and iron that glowed red-hot, attended by a company
of fiends armed with bellows. So many souls were swarming around that Tundale was
amazed that the world could have brought forth so
many! Satan was bound in iron chains surrounded
by molten brass. The souls that he caught in his long
fingers he tore to pieces as he brought them to his
mouth as a man would a handful of grapes. When
he had crushed them and digested them he expelled
them back into the fire; and yet, they revived and
were put to renewed torture! Tundale saw and heard
how Satan cried out in anguish at his binding and
constraint and with each tormented exhalation a
thousand souls were breathed back out into the fire.
Soon they were scattered all around him, but this torture was still insufficient, and when
he breathed in again all the scattered souls were swallowed down again, along with the
fumes of pitch and sulphur. The souls that managed to escape from his grasp fell into the
hot coals and were burned; but they revived and were caught by the hooks in Satan’s tail
once more. And so the torture continued, both to the souls and to Satan himself.
Because the more pain that Satan gave to the souls that were brought to him, the more
was his own pain, it is a pain from which he can never escape.
‘Here is the heart of suffering!’ exclaimed the angel. ‘Satan, this ugly fiend whom you
have not abhorred enough, was the first creature that God made in his own image. He
fell from heaven through his pride into this deep pit. He is tied up and shackled, as you
can see, and will remain so until Doomsday, for if the iron failed and he was released, he
would wreak havoc throughout heaven and Earth. Of the devils that are with him, some
trace their descent from Adam and others are angels that fell out of heaven when he did.
All of them are damned for eternity. And many more shall arrive here before Doomsday;
those who forsake God and will not recognise His truth nor acknowledge His works
but love sin, both common men and clergy. These souls have suffered all the torments
you have seen on your journey and now they have been thrown to Satan. Whoever is
brought here shall remain for eternity. Powerful men who have caused the poor to suffer,
who impose their authority unjustly and take whatever they want from those who are
weaker than themselves, these princes of wickedness shall suffer unendurable torment,
inflicted by fiends who now have absolute power over them.’
‘Sir, God’s will shall be done,’ replied Tundale, instinctively. ‘But one thing puzzles me
and I would like to know the answer. Why, on Earth, does God not give at least as much
power to those who are good and would be a guide to their fellow men as he does to
those who are wicked?’
The angel replied: ‘Sometimes a district or a nation gets the rulers it deserves, because
the people need to be punished, and sometimes God is keen not to let the good people
of this world have too much wealth because it would harm their chances of going to
heaven. But all the things that you have seen up until now are reserved for the purgation
of misdemeanours and are nothing compared to the horrors you now see before you. It
is not for nothing that this fiend is called the Prince of Darkness.’
‘I can believe you!’ replied Tundale, ‘And I feel more dread and awe standing here than
I have of anything up until now. Please let me go from this place. I can see some of my
friends and associates here; their home is now this pit and I renounce all my admiration
of them and all my friendship for them. This will be my fate too, if Jesus does not have
mercy upon me – I shall be forced to stay here
for eternity!’
‘I can call you a blessed soul,’ replied the an-
gel mildly, ‘because you have passed through
all of your punishments. All these things that
you have seen and suffered with courage you
need have no further fear of. You have seen
the wicked suffer for their misdeeds and now
you shall see the bliss that lies in wait for those
whom God has chosen. So be glad! Come
now, and follow me.’