Pilgrim's Progress – Long Distance Walks in Europe and the UK

Not a whit, we defy augury. There’s a special providence in the fall of a sparrow.                     If it be now, ’tis not to come;         if it be not to come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come. The readiness is all.

William Shakespeare – Hamlet Act V Scene 2

I’ve always loved this quote from the final act of Hamlet.

What exactly is augury and how relevant is it to our lives today?

Well augury is usually defined  as simply “superstition” or “divination.” But there’s more to it and it’s fascinating. Augury was the ancient Roman practice of divination through birds, and it’s where we get the words “auspicious,” “inauspicious” and “inauguration.”

In this quote, Hamlet rejects the notion that the will of the gods or fate can be divined and avoided, and asserts that everything unfolds according to an immutable plan. If something is fated to happen, it will happen. If not now, then it will come later. If not later, then now. For the first time in the play, he finds a sense of acceptance and peace in the face of overwhelming circumstances. 

Even the smallest sacrifices (i.e. the fall of a sparrow) are part of a grander design that we cannot fathom with our limited human perception. Because you can’t see the bigger picture, you can’t outsmart it.

And what would you think if one day, out of nowhere, an eagle dropped a writhing snake at your feet? A few days later a shocking event occurs. Happenstance or something more? And what, if anything, do such things have to do with my walk on the Way of St Giles?

Miracles are what Saints are made of. St Gilles du Gard was one of them. Yet rational quantification of what constitutes a miracle and thereby justifies Sainthood is a more tortuous process. For those interested, I recommend a book by John Cornwell, a lapsed Roman Catholic priest, who examines the subject in forensic detail in his book ‘ Powers of Darkness, Powers of Light’.

The great irony is that the conversion of the Roman Empire to Christianity was in no small part due to an omen before the Battle of Milvian Bridge in 312AD which led directly to Constantine’s conversion to Christianity. Prior to the battle, he prayed to the Christian God and saw a Chi Rho, and the words “in hoc signo vinces,” or “by this sign, conquer.” He credited his victory to the Christian God and subsequently passed decrees to ensure that the Roman Empire converted to Christianity.

The track record of the Catholic Church and the cult of Sainthood, relics and pilgrimage is not a pretty one. Call it mercenary capitalism if you will, but the excesses of relics and pilgrimage led directly to it’s rejection in the form of Lutheran and Protestantism.

Today’s rather tedious walk got me thinking about Providence and Auguries. If an eagle drops a snake at your feet and a few days later a loved one dies is it pure chance? Or is it an omen? What is the statistical probability of such a thing happening by chance? Is it purely a case of ex actio rationalisation of the improbable? I don’t claim to have the answers, but I do believe that it’s worth keeping an open mind on such matters.

As for miracles, I like to think of myself as a fairly rational individual and consequently dismiss the bulk of miraculous events as hogwash. But one particular recent event caught my eye for which I have no rational explanation.

Readers of this blog may remember my mentioning a superb travel book by a French author called Charles Wright. In the book, the author describes his walk through the Massif Central as a trainee Jesuit priest in the footsteps of the great French poet Arthur Rimbaud and the French missionary Charles de Foucauld.

Charles de Foucauld was canonised 2 years ago by the Catholic church following a miracle which occurred on the 100th anniversary of his death. The facts surrounding the miracle and the witnesses to the event, defy rational explanation. This is what happened:

  

On November 30, 2016 at the Saint-Louis high school in Saumur, two workers from the Asselin company, which specializes in heritage restoration, were busy working on the framework of the chapel. Leaving the construction walkway, Charle a young 21-year-old apprentice, decided to take a short cut by walking on the vault. Perhaps due to the weight of his toolbox, the vault suddenly gave way, causing Charle to fall 15 meters. Although his fall only lasted less than 2 seconds, it felt like an eternity to Charle. Thoughts raced through his head: “Above all, don’t fall on my legs. Protect my head with my hands.” He opened his eyes. “I wasn’t down there yet. I tried to lie down. And I closed my eyes again.”

The statistics on workplace accidents are clear: beyond 10 metres, the speed of impact with the ground is such that a fall is almost always fatal or leaves the victim seriously disabled. Charle landed at 60km/h on a bench that shattered on impact. A simple scratch on the forehead, he got up. Nothing else? Yes: one of the uprights of the bench, about 50cm long, pierced his chest just below his heart. Literally pierced, he nevertheless went back up the nave, decided not to go out into the courtyard “so as not to worry the students” and turned towards a side door. “I saw him coming. He told me: ‘we have to call for help’”, remembers, still astounded, Eric Bernard, head of IT.

It was Charle who, as a good carpenter, told the firefighters the diameter of the piece of wood by telephone. A helicopter made an emergency landing on the high school football field and whisking Charle, under sedation to Angers University Hospital. 

As soon as his boss, François Asselin, a staunch Catholic, learned of the tragedy, he immediately launched an intense prayer chain with his wife. Charles de Foucauld, to whom his family often prayed, was called upon to intervene and save Charle. Unable to contact either the hospital or his worker’s parents, the Charle’s boss spent a sleepless night, convinced that the young carpenter was going to die.

At the same time, in Angers, the latter entered the operating room. The surgeon who removed the wooden bench shards from his body had to remove his spleen. However, he noted with relief that none of Charle’s vital organs had been affected. And with the exception of a broken rib, Charle’s was uninjured. “Scientifically inexplicable,” medical experts would later conclude.

And the time of the miracle? 30 Nov 2016, the eve of the 100 years anniversary (1 Dec 1916)  of the assasination of Charles de Foucauld in Tammanrasset. Happenstance or something more significant? You decide.

As for today’s walk? Well it was very long and, for the most part fairly dreary. The weather was great, the problem lay in the terrain I covered – scree covered pine clad hillsides with very limited visibilty, all of which made for arduous walking.

There were a few highlights – the medieval château of Portes which survived several sieges during the middle ages but not coal mining activities in the vicinity in the 19th and 20th centuries which ultimately caused it’s collapse.

Mid afternoon I emerged from the woods onto an escarpment with panoramic views. A couple of young chaps were racing round on rally bikes making a huge racket and rather spoiling the tranquillity.

I eventually reached the outskirts of Alès at around 4pm. It took me another hour and a half to reach my accommodation called La Batejade. I hadn’t realised quite how sprawling and ugly Alès was. Blocks of flats had been built a stone’s throw away from the cathedral. There was a labyrinth of ring roads leading to sprawling industrial estates. It was quite a shock to the system after a fortnight of walking through isolated hill side villages.

Every cloud has a silver lining. After running the gauntlet of a dual carriageway for 2km, I eventually found La Batejade, a rambling estate on a hillside.

After showing me to my room, Catherine directed me to a Take Away pizza van located on a roundabout 100m from La Batejade.

A hot bath, a comfortable bed and a spicy pizza awaited. After 10 hours of slogging through the Cévennes, in a pair of rapidly disintegrating boots, fuelled by a sole pain au chocolat, the luxury of La Batejade seemed like a small miracle.