September 19: Walking through history

The stretch of country between Burgos and Fromista, where we rest tonight, is crowded with history. Yesterday, the route passed between the ruins of the Monastery of San Anton and its Pilgrim Hospital, founded by royal patronage in 1147 CE. The picturesque ruins are the remains of an enormous 14th Century complex. The Order supported pilgrims and was also dedicated to treating “St Anthony’s fire” (a condition of burning pain, inflammation, blisters: a general name for ergot poisoning, shingles, gangrene - the latter two often triggered by the former).

Ergot poisoning often presents with hallucinations and convulsions, which raised fears of demonic possession. The disease was assigned to St Anthony because he exemplifies resistance to the Devil and offers protection from the tormenting fires of evil spirits. The cure comprised herbal remedies, including ointments and “St Anthony’s wine”, (properly blessed), prayer and eliminating rye, most often the source of the infection, from the diet. The hospital offered nursing care and even surgery for extreme cases.

Almost unknown to us, St Anthony’s Fire ravaged Medieval Europe repeatedly. Outbreaks were interpreted as Divine punishment, leading to witch hunts (literally). There are even academic suggestions that it was at the root of the Salem Witch Trials. That highlights the bravery of the Order and its monks, in taking in and nurturing the afflicted.

Usually there is a peaceful pilgrim garden there. This time it was sequestered for a film set. We threaded our way through, but there was no opportunity to loiter.

Castojerez, yesterday’s rest stop, is a strategic feature in the vast, fertile Meseta plain. Julius Caesar established a Roman military base there, no doubt dislodging its then-local warlord. Since then, regional strongmen have fortified the summit and held sway over the harvest and potential invaders, including Moorish armies in the 9th Century. The Counts of Castrojerez held real political power (like the English Marcher Lords). In the 14th Century, Queen Eleanor of Castile was imprisoned in the castle and handed over to her rebellious nephew (who executed her to become Pedro I). Powerful into the 18th Century, the castle was finally ruined by the Great Lisbon earthquake of 1755.

Today, we walked along the Canal of Castile. Constructed between 1753-1849, the Spanish War of Independence was only one obstacle in its checkered history. Ultimately, outmoded by the railways, the canal was cut short at 207km and never reached the Bay of Biscay. It was repurposed for irrigation and still supports 23,000 hectares of farmland across 48 municipalities. It also provides a cool, green space for walkers and wildlife, cutting through the dusty plain, lined with trees and reed beds on both sides.

Of course, there were our fellow travelers. We are beginning to “know” familiar faces that we meet most days on the trail. And, there are new conversations. I walked 7km, almost 2 hours, with Peter, an Australian Catholic, walking as a Devotion. Despite our differing faith traditions and geographies, we had much in common and much to discuss