They went on to Bethlehem, thence to Jerusalem again, and thence homewards. On board the ship Raymond was seized with an illness, and the sailors wanted to throw him overboard, thinking, according to the usual sailors’ superstition, that a sick man would bring disaster. His mother, however, dissuaded them, and he quickly recovered. But the mother died herself shortly after landing in Italy, and Raymond went on alone. He was met at Plaisance by a procession of clergy and choristers, and led to the cathedral, where he deposited his palm branch, sign of successful pilgrimage, and then returned to his shoemaking, married, and lived to a good old age—doubtless telling over and over again the stories of his travels. And now began those vast pilgrimages when thousands went together, “the armies of the Lord,” the real precursors of the Crusades. Robert of Normandy (A.D. 1034), like Fulke the Black, anxious to wipe out his sins, went accompanied by a great number of barons and knights, all barefooted, all clothed with the penitential sackcloth, all bearing the staff and purse. They went by Constantinople and through Asia Minor. There Robert was seized with an illness, and being unable to walk, was borne in a litter by Saracens. “Tell my people,” said the duke, “that you have seen me borne to Paradise by devils;” a speech which shows how far toleration had spread in those days. Robert found a large number of pilgrims outside the city unable to pay the entrance money. He paid for all, and after signalizing himself by numerous acts of charity he returned, dying on the way in Bithynia, regretting only that he had not died sooner, at the sacred shrine itself. To die there, indeed, was, as we have seen in the case of Raymond, a common prayer. The form of words is preserved: “Thou who hast died for us, and art buried in this sacred place, take pity on our misery, and withdraw us from this vale of tears.” And the Christians preserved the story of one Lethbald, whose prayer was actually answered, for he died suddenly in the sight of his companions, after crying out three times aloud, “Glory to thee, O God!” Sometimes, but seldom, a sort of missionary spirit would seize a pilgrim, and he would try to convert the infidels. Thus Saint Macarius of Armenia, bishop of Antioch, learned Arabic and Hebrew, and going to Jerusalem began to preach to the Jews and Saracens. Of course he was beaten and thrown into prison. And we need not record the miracles that happened to him therein. Richard, Abbot of Saint Vitou, left Normandy at the head of seven hundred pilgrims, with whom was Saint Gervinus. There are accounts preserved of this pilgrimage, which offers little of interest except the miracles which were wrought for Richard.