Raoul of Saint-Sépulcre, The Life of St. Lietbertus, Bishop of Cambrai (c. 1100)


Translated by John S. Ott, Department of History, Portland State University. ©Not for use or citation without permission. Last revised on 28 March 2024.

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Excerpted and translated from the Vita Lietberti episcopi Cameracensis auctore Rodolfo monacho S. Sepulchri Cameracensis, ed. A. Hofmeister, MGH SS 30.2 (Leipzig, 1934), pp. 838-66.

A note to readers:
I undertook this translation because I wanted to make part of this valuable text, focused on Bishop Lietbert's 1054 pilgrimage to Jerusalem, available to students in my classes. I have omitted those parts concerned with Lietbert's upbringing and education, his dealings with the castellans of Cambrai and the count of Flanders, his local reforms of religious houses, and his death and burial, which are, nevertheless, important for the eleventh-century history of Flanders and western Francia. There are undoubtedly still bugs in the translation, although I think in the main it is accurate.
If you would like to make personal use of the text, please feel free. If you wish to use it for other purposes, including citation, please contact me at ott@pdx.edu. I also welcome comments and amendments from readers on the translation itself.

The in-text reference notes [in brackets] may be found at the end of the document.

Prefatory notes to the text:
The bishop Lietbert of Lessines, born ca. 1000 C. E., was an archdeacon and provost of the cathedral of Cambrai before his election to the episcopate of that city, which he ruled from April 1051 - 23 June 1076. The diocese of Cambrai sat on the political border between the German Empire, the Kingdom of France, and the County of Flanders, north and to the east of Paris. Although religiously subordinate to the archdiocese of Reims, which was closely allied with the French crown, politically Cambrai pertained to the German Empire. Its bishops, including Lietbert, traveled to the imperial court to receive the episcopal regalia from the emperor's hands. Its situation was thus unique among the dioceses attached to the ecclesiastical province of Reims, and once the Investiture Controversy erupted, Cambrai found itself torn between the competing interests of the pope and the emperor. Lietbert seems to have walked a fine line between the two powers: he appears as a witness in French royal charters as well as at the German court. It may well have been a political falling out with Emperor Henry III during the monarch's military campaign through Flanders in 1054 that was the immediate inspiration for Lietbert's pilgrimage. He was gone for two full years.

Pilgrimages to the Holy Land became more and more common in the century preceding the First Crusade. Lietbert's is one of the better documented of such voyages; but other journeys also attracted contemporary attention, notably that of a large group led by German prelates, including Siegfried, archbishop of Mainz, and Gunther, bishop of Bamberg, in 1064. A few short years after Lietbertus's trip, the bishop of Worcester, Ealdred, made a similar voyage. Lietbert even bumped into a fellow bishop from the province of Reims while on his travels.

Little is known of the author of the Vita sancti Lietberti apart from his name, Raoul (Radulf, Radulfus); that he wrote at an advanced age and was well-schooled (he borrowed freely from the work of Virgil, Horace, and Cicero); that he accompanied Lietbert on his pilgrimage; and that he was, or became, a monk at Saint-Sépulcre of Cambrai, a monastery reformed by Lietbert in 1064. An archdeacon of the same named witnessed two charters of Lietbert in 1057, soon after the bishop's return, before disappearing from the local historical record. The editor of the Latin text believes that Raoul was a younger contemporary of the bishop, and composed his life sometime between the years 1094 and 1133. Its date of composition was almost certainly about 1099-1100, however, after the death of Anselm of Ribemont on the First Crusade shortly before the conquest of Jerusalem in July 1099.

Lietbert's cult was confined to his diocese and its principal city.


Prologue to the Vita sancti Lietberti episcopi Cameracensis

The cultivation and permanence of the Christian religion is without doubt established from this: to believe by engaging faithfully in the generous bounty of omnipotent God, and, in believing, to preach sincerely. That faith of this religion, which is called catholic or universal, grows especially strong first on account of the universal precepts by which the authority of the same religion is understood, and second, because its observance shines throughout every corner of the earth. Indeed, true religion is the worship of one God, first among all princes, and the wisdom with which man is made wise. . . . Moved by this consideration, and also by the charitable encouragement of our brothers and lords, we prepared ourselves to bring to our ears the life of our lord and patron Lietbert, bishop of the church of Cambrai, and the labors which he sweated for the same church, and the end of his life; and to establish a burning lamp of faith upon the ecclesiastic candelabra by the grace of the septiform spirit, so that it may shine upon everyone who is in the house of God.  In this charitable act, let hazy eyes not go blind with biting jealousy, nor place the left hand of wickedness upon a wrinkled brow, nor impute its usefulness for the pulic good  to arrogance or pride, but for this and his other blessings may they praise the Lord for all time. . . .

***********************

27. [1054] The bishop worthy to God [Lietbert], moved by these and other blessings to follow the saying of the apostle, "Let us go to him outside the camp, bearing his stigma. For here we have no proper home, but seek the future" [Hebrews 13:13], conceived through a profound stirring of his mind the desire to travel to Jerusalem, not for the sake of seeing the stones of its towers or the rooftops of its houses, but in order to embrace and kiss the pathways once trod by Jesus' feet. He believed it would indeed be a blessed thing to see the humble dwellings; to adore in spirit with the shepherds the whimpering Christ-child; to celebrate in the church of Golgotha the sacraments of his blessed passion, crucifixion, and death; to weep over the death of Christ with the blessed women at the tomb; to utterly wash away with tears both his and their wounds inside the walls of the sepulcher; and to follow with the most profound and heartfelt passion, on the Mount of Olives above the heavens, the ascending Christ along with Mary his mother and the blessed apostles. But, in order to go about it wisely, he pondered how he might leave the city and church committed to him tranquil and peaceful and make precautions for there to be a suitable defender and protector for the entire region.

. . . .

29. And so the bishop, having established Anselm [Anselm I 'the Old' of Ribemont, castellan of Valencienne and Bouchain, who was oversaw the castellany of Cambrai during the minority of Hugh d'Oisy] as protector and defender of the county of Cambrai, and having full trust in his faithfulness and diligence, little by little relinquished his affairs in public matters and looked after the journey's projected costs with all his mental energy. Meanwhile, he had his hands full with how he might be able to keep [his departure] a secret, since he knew that if it were discovered, he would without any doubt be opposed.  But because, as Scripture says, "frequent worrying is the body's affliction," [1] his subdued aspect, drawn face, persistence in vigils, and frequent isolation disclosed what he wished to conceal. At length, having been summoned in a friendly way to a meeting by his closest friends, he revealed his heart's secret and sought their advice. All were troubled [by the news] and many tried to dissuade [him from going], and the various hazards were laid out: the [possible] intervention of [his] death, the destruction of the region, together with the destitution of the church committed to him. The wiser of mind agreed on these points, [but] those who weighed over the bishop's proposal were afraid to speak against [it], fearing they might experience the wrath of God or their lord over it. The bishop stood firm, [saying]: "I shall redeem my vow to God, which my lips promised" [2]; [and to this] one and all equally assented, though not without much weeping.

30.  This counsel thus affirmed, the companions were bound by covenant. Foremost among them were those whose names we have given below: lord Galcherus the archdeacon and provost of the [episcopal] court; Hugh the chaplain, whose sanctity the cloister of canons of the mother church [of Cambrai] and the monastery of Anchin [later] demonstrated; Erlebald the judge and procurator of the city; and another Erlebald, surnamed "the Red," whom the church of Sainte-Croix praised for the kind of man he was. [3] But two of these men, namely lord Galcherus and the judge Erlebald, would be supporters of great excellence and helpers of the lord bishop, as we shall say in the appropriate place, God willing.

31. In the year of the Lord's incarnation 1054, their depature having been barely agreed to by the clergy and people, the bishop Lietbert, the freedom of the homeland, a man worthy to the church and to God, departed from his city of Cambrai and took the road toward Jerusalem. People of all ages and both sexes followed him, not without tears and immense groans, for nearly three miles. Passing through cities and fortified towns—regions and provinces, the hazards of the mountains and the dangerous growth of forests, he crossed the lands which the Huns, barbarous in its language and customs, cultivated. And so that the brief account of his numerous travels might be enriched, after crossing the Danube he entered Pannonia, [a land] esteemed by the blessed birth of Saint Martin.[4]

32.  It was announced to the king [of Hungary, Andreas I, r. 1047-1061] that certain men in pilgrims' dress had come from distant lands and wished to cross the borders into his kingdom. He quickly ordered them, once summoned, to be brought to him. Upon seeing the bishop, the king, changing his mind from his original disposition by God's will, quickly arose from his throne and most courteously invited the one had greeted [Lietbertus] into his private chambers. [There,] he inquired as to the reason for the journey, marveling at what he heard and amazed that such a great and distinguished man should take upon himself the weight of so difficult a labor. But because in those days hardly anyone, or rather practically no one, took up this road, he thought upon it carefully, lest they should be simulating [a pilgrimage] under the guise of other business. For that reason, having secretly summoned his men, he ordered [the party] to be carefully observed from that moment, lest they stir up any kind of wickedness. After observing the devout holiness of the bishop for several days and likewise hearing of his most liberal generosity in supporting the poor and his devotion to vigils, prayers, and fasting, the devout king offered his service, and whatever the bishop requested from him and his men, he gave freely. Truly, such a large multitude of people gathered in his company that it might have been called the Lord's army (exercitus Domini). Thus, having rendered [Lietbertus and his companions] his protection to the farthest borders of his kingdom, through God's mercy, [the king] bade him to depart in safety.

33. Having crossed the frontiers of the Pannones [Hungarians], [Lietbert] entered the wooded wilderness known as the Bulgarian wildlands, which the thieving Scythians inhabit. These people, living after the custom of wild animals, are not bound by any laws or contained by any cities. They live in the open air and set upon passersby whom the night forces to make camp, killing some on the road and capturing others. They move about in herds with their children and wives, carrying all their possessions with them, with everything covered in skins. They are bound by the divine cult of no religion, nor of any identifiable branch of heresy; nevertheless, as we saw from [observing] those among them who had been killed, that they are circumcised in the custom of Saracens.[5] Barbarians, cruel men, murderers: they are without any goodwill, without compassion. The bishop, entering these deadly wastes with his company, was met on the road by refugees, tearfully relating the reason for their flight. How many [of the pilgrims] were terrified and contemplated retreating along with the refugees! They described how they had run into bands of thieves, that many of their number had perished while others were wounded to the point of death, and, as he could see, [the rest] had just barely escaped. All [of the pilgrims] were deeply distraught and tearfully beseached the mercy of divine dispensation, since they had no idea what should be done. The lord bishop, on hearing the tearful lamentation of the distraught multitude—for he walked by alone, so that he might attend more attentively to his psalms and prayers—stopped, and asked why they were crying. On learning the reason, he made the sign of the holy cross, and, raising his right hand, indicated the direction he was about to take. Afterward, recalling to himself the words of the psalm by which he had prayed, he discovered this verse: "Rescue me from evildoers and deliver me from men of blood." [6] At this the solider of Christ (miles Christi) began to move forward little by little, and spoke briefly to those who were with him: "My fellow soliders (conmilitiones), do not let your adversary the devil, who 'like a lion prowls about looking for someone to devour,' deter you. Resist him, firm in your faith [7], because 'if God is with us, who can be against us?' [8] For that reason, 'clothe yourselves in the armor of God so that you may stand firm and be perfect in all things,' [9] because your God tempts you so that he may know if you love him. 'But he will provide a way out along with the temptation, so that you may be able to bear it.' [10] Hastening down the road you have taken up, quicken your pace, because 'no one who puts his hand to the plough and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.'" [11] In this way the soldier of Christ (miles Christi) with his troops and the leader (princeps) with his household companions urged God's army not to be afraid, and continued onward. For ten days or more they wandered through those solitudes, through which, as was said, the Saracens [sic: "Scythians" is probably meant], nomad-like, ever roamed here and there.

34.  On the seventh day, when they believed they had avoided danger, they suddenly saw horse-riders and theives on camel-back within a thicket of woods, with crested and bound hair and half-clothed, wearing mantles and wide sandals. Quivers hung from their shoulders, and they carried bows and long spears.[12] On seeing them the others became terrified, but the lord bishop became more cheerful in the hopes of obtaining the prize for which he had undergone the labor of so great a journey.

    This was what he prayed for; the dutiful man beseeched it with the fullness of love in his spirit [13]

[namely,] that he might be slain by them or taken captive and led away to distant and barbarous nations for the name of Christ. He promised with the disposition of a devoted spirit to suffer the passion of the living cross for the redemption of humankind, so that he might destroy the laws of death. Whence, that partner of the martyrs and chalice of Christ, preferring to step forward and participate in Christ's passions so that he might rejoice in the revelation of his glory, said: "Your vows, O God, are within me, and these praises I remit to you." But he who rules the earth in equity, taking heed of the prayers of the church of Cambrai, which day and night had entrusted its bishop to him, preserved [Lietbertus] unharmed together with all his men in the face of such a deadly hazard. You would have seen those wretched people [the brigands] freeze at the bishop's arrival and weaken in the face of his exertions; and what you would have been even more astounded to see was [Lietbertus], upon leaving that place, pointing out the road to those passing through it. [14] In this way the bishop, worthy to God, together with his companions, bypassed the perilous region and the thieves' dwelling places unharmed.

35. Entering Dalmatia and passing through those places in which Diocletian [15] had once built thermal baths and brought down upon the martyrs of Christ various fatal punishments, [Lietbertus] turned his route toward Isauria.[16] Crossing this land he arrived at Corinth, and hearing that the body of St. Demetrius [17], foremost among all martyrs, lay there, he sought out his tomb. There [the bishop] beseeched, with his entire spirit, divine aid by [Demetrius's] merits. From there, proceding to Laodicea, he entered Syria.[18] There, upon learning that the church of the Lord's Sepulcher had been violently blocked off by the King of the Babylonians [19] -- the Christians having been ejected -- and the road through that land had been almost completely closed off from fear of the pagans, he made ready to delay in the same city for three months. Although others began to despair of the pilgrimage and dispersed in various directions, [the bishop] together with his nobles and intimate company stood firm, and, because he could not go by land, he committed himself to a passage by sea. They scoured the docks, diligently seeking a captain; the amount of their valuables was added up and foodstuffs were gathered, so that at the moment a sign was given, there would not be any sort of delay in departing.

36. While they waited for a suitable time to set sail, one of their company, namely lord Fulcher [20], fell ill in bed. As his weakness grew worse each day and the time to sail approached, the lord bishop was shaken by the extreme agitation of his thoughts. He anguished over whether he should postpone the crossing or wait for the turning point of his faithful companion's illness. With [Fulcher] growing ever weaker, and the sailing date was announced; fear coupled with desire wracked the bishop's mind: fear, lest his most faithful companion should die in his absence; and desire, lest the time of the journey already begun should be put off [any longer]. With the bishop placed in this frame of mind, the health of the sick man was despaired of by the doctors by the feel of the pulse in his veins, and his looming death heralded by his daily suffering. The time came, and the boat-master appeared with his sailing implements and announced the date and hour of departure. One by one [the passengers] were called forward; the din of those who were claiming the spots assigned to them was immense. What should the soldier of Christ (miles Christi) do? Should he desert his companion or put off the voyage? But the Almighty did not permit him whom he saw was his devout servant to be disturbed any longer. He who extended his hand to Peter as he sank [in the sea], brought counsel to [the bishop]. [21] He recalled to [Lietbert's] mind the response that he had once given to a man wishing to bury his father: "Leave the dead to bury the dead." [22] Strengthened by these words of the Savior, [Lietbertus] vanquished the imperatives of the flesh with God's love. He paid another visit to the sick man, who, appearing already to be dead, was at the point of drawing his final breath. Addressing him now by gestures, now by words--[in short,] by whatever means he could--he beseeched [Fulcher's] permission [to go]. But the sick man, although on the verge of surrending to the other world, upon recognizing the bishop's words and sobbing and regaining his strength, opened his eyes. When he understood, with great difficulty, the words of the one speaking [that, is the bishop], the sick man likewise beseeched [Lietbertus'] permission to depart, just as one who is preparing to leave the world behind. [At this] the venerable bishop, commending [Fulcher] to God with the greatest sadness and profound anguish of the spirit, committed [him] with prayers and blessings to the apostle Andrew and to the glorious queen Mary, the mother of God. Nor is it surprising that he committed to [Andrew and Mary] him whom he loved as one so familiar to them, who had served [them] more attentively than all others. After this, as they said their final good-byes and gave one another the kiss of peace, the lord bishop rose to go and the sick man remained behind. Yet [Fulcher], although he had been given up on by the doctors and had been deserted by his companions, who now thought he was dead, was invigorated by the bishop's blessing and revived by his tears. He then began to breathe little by little and, with all the energy of his spirit, he inhaled as best he could a sufficient amount of air to speak. Then, calling to mind the words with which the bishop had committed him to the holy apostle Andrew and with which he implored the holy mother of God, and drawing in deep breaths of the heart on his own behalf, said -- as he himself later testified -- "O blessed Andrew, to whose protection my lord bishop Lietbert commended me, and whose memory he venerates in the monastery at Neufchâteau [23], if you are tuly that worthy, courageous apostle of Christ, the friend of God whom the Lord loved in the fragrance of sweetness [24], then make haste, hurry, have mercy, and dipping your finger in the oil of mercy [25] of our lady the mother of God, holy Mary, sustain the flagging spirit and extend help to the one who labors [i.e., Fulcher] with your prayers. Hurry, friend of God, through the mystery of Christ your master! I am on the brink of dying! And, because I am unable to do so on my own behald, beseech the Mother of Mercy, who for so long was my supporter, not for my own merits, which deserve the punishment of death, but for the merits of he who committed me to you [i.e., Lietbert] with tears and prayers." The bishop spent that night unable to sleep [26], commending himself and his men to God with his accustomed sobs, and with his humble prayers he prolonged the life of his dying friend.

37. Now, as the fourth hour of the night approached [27], while the others in the house in which the sick man lay were sleeping, he seemed to fall into a half-waking sleep. When behold! he saw two demonic spirits standing before him, and holding an iron trident, flaming as though it had just been removed from a fiery furnace, which -- as the same man later said -- they called the "Sting of Death." For [the demons] said they had brought it there to affix it to his heart and thus eject his soul [from his body]. What fear is this, O God? what pain? what anguish? The sick man struggled, and, laboring, he collapsed. He then saw a blow strike, and the menancing spirit was utterly dissolved. Screaming, [the demon] was destroyed, and amidst the screams the following [words] resounded: "O holy mother of God, virgins of virgins O St. Andrew!"

38. In this time of great and terrible tribulation, among the mists and shadows of death, the glittering, heavenly sea-star, the mother of piety and--if I may say so, piety of pieties, by whose prayer God's devotion spares the faults of sinners--illuminated the place with her most holy presence. She was present, I say: the hope of the wretched, the salvation of the ill, the joy of Christians, the utter lament of demons. And raising her right hand with which she wrapped Christ in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger, and setting the left hand upon the holy apostle Andrew, she made the sign of the living cross and said, "Who, O spirit of wickedness, fears your anger? Where are you running off to? How great is your arrogance? Do you have such great confidence in your own kind [28], that you would wish to sell those who are committed to us? What is this sick man to you, whom my son returned to health by the prayers of his saint, Andrew? Go on, get out of here, leave now!" At her command, those aforesaid demonic spirits quickly disappeared. [29] Then the mother of piety gazed upon the sick man with a face of serenity, the same expression with which she brought forth her crying son, and the same with which, among the celebrants [of the wedding feast at Cana], she indicated the wine had run out [30] -- with, I say, that same expression with which she looked upon the grieving Theophilus [31]; that is, with an expression of tenderness and grace. It was with that very expression, I say, that she looked upon the man, sick to the point of death and grasped by the demon's hands, and -- so that [Fulcher] might rise up and follow his bishop -- by commanding [the demon], made the sign of the cross and then departed.

39. As the vision faded, the sick man who seemed to himself to be sleeping, opened his eyes and discovered that he was healthy and unhurt, as though nothing evil had befallen him. Immediately calling out for the boy who had stayed with him (so that, should he die, he would not go unburied), he ordered him to bring him his clothes at once and prepare all the necessary things for following after the bishop. [Fulcher] immediately got up -- the boy thought he had left his sense -- called forr the lord of the house, and asked him how much he owed for his accumulated expenditures. When this was tallied and paid, he ordered his horses to be prepared as quickly as possible and ordered the boy not to forget any of his clothes. Not only did the head of the household in whose dwelling he had stayed marvel at the man's health, but so too did all the neighbors rejoice in his health. Indeed, the entire city (cuncta civitas) rejoiced and applauded, since they saw the dying man, whom they had been arranging to bury the evening before according to apostolic precept, urging forth his horse at daybreak and leaving at full gallop. The joyful [Fulcher] related to all who asked how much the Lord had done for him through his glorious mother and the holy apostle Andrew and raced with a quickened pace to follow the bishop and his company, whom God's piety and providence was detaining at the shore.

The rising sun [32] poured its lengthening rays into the sailors' eyes; observing [the rays] from the stern of the boat, the shipmasters took note of an approaching storm. By common agreement, they waited until the middle hour of the day to ascertain what the sun's brilliance portended. Amidst all these things, during the third hour of the day, ehilr the bishop was walking along the shore thinking about miseries of the present life and with them lamenting the misfortune of the faithful friend who had been left behind, it was announced to him by those who were keeping a lookout that lord Fulk was coming. Stunned at first, then gathering his wits, he asked how they knew it was him. They related that they had truthfully seen the horses he was accustomed to ride and his clothes. Sighing, [the bishop] responded: "It can't possibly be Fulcher, but perhaps it's his boy who, having buried his lord, is now following after us. For I have no hope of seeing Fulcher except by the clemency of God  alone. Nevertheless, I do not despair of Christ's mercy, which returned Lazarus to his sisters, the only son to the widow, or indeed, with which the believing man entrusts him to his guarantors." [33] While they were saying these things to one another and looking out intently at those who were approaching, Fulcher arrived. O what joyous joy, what happy happiness did the human spirit know! [Fulcher] was unable to recount what had happened to him or how, so great was the tumult and so frequent the embraces of those crowding around him.

40.  Having welcomed back their companion, the lord bishop boarded the ship with his men at the sailors' orders. The sailors put their backs into the oars with all their might,

    and the wind, freshening, blew from astern to chase them on. [34]

They took their leave from the port of Laodicea and flew over the open sea; and with frequent shouts [the sailors] passed through the frothing strait. The sails inflated and the decked ship ran the vast sea. Later, when the ship held to the high seas and no sign of land could be seen, a darkening storm-cloud rose overhead,

    bringing with it darkness and rain, and the waves quivered with shadows.
    Immediately the sea-winds rolled in
    and the black seas rose;

those men, tested by the vast ocean, were tossed about.

    Storms cloaked the day, and night-fog carried off the skies,
    lightning redoubled with the precipitous shadows.

They were thrown off course and wandered blind amidst the waves. Those seasoned sailors, lost in the deep sea, denied the currents day and night. For three uncertain days they wandered the open sea, under starless nights. On the fourth day the first land seemed to rise up and to open its mountaintops and spew forth smoke. The sails were stowed and the sailors immediately took up their oars, and
   
    heaved up swirls of foam on the dark blue sea.

41. The shores of Cyprus received the lord bishop, now safe from the waves, together with all his men. The ruler of the island, whom they called the "katapant," and who was second-in-command, afraid lest they fall into the hands of the pagan, kept [the bishop] there from June 4 until July 31[35], namely until the day when, having barely secured an exit through [the expenditure of] a great deal of gold, and believing that they had resumed the sea-crossing to Jerusalem, he was fraudlently taken back to Laodicea, because the sailors wished to avoid the ambushes of the pagans. He was once again bound by delays in that place until no hope of fulfilling his vow remained. Reflecting on the many and difficult travels, and on the advice of the bishop of Laodicea, he took up the sad path home, returning with Hélinand, the bishop of Laon [36], who at the same time had also gone to Jerusalem.

[42. On his way home, Lietbert attends a peace council at Cologne between Baldwin the count of Flanders and the German king Henry IV in early December 1056. This is the only part of his return journey that Raoul mentions.]

43. [Lietbert] had fixed in his mind [37] not to enter Cambrai first, but rather that he should revisit Neufchâteau, the steadfast fortification of his diocese, which he had most diligently maintained in St. Andrew's memory. [38] On arriving there with his companion lord Fulcher and the other members of his household, he was most honorably received by everyone. Once greeted, he was led into the church of Saint-André to pray. Lying prostrate on the ground, he did not beseech the tears, which were always so familiar to him, in his prayer. At length, standing up, he gave the blessing. Embracing everyone he could in the moment, he went forth publicly [from the church] and related to everyone how many misfortunes of the road he had endured. Then lord Fulcher, in [Lietbert'] presence, approached the altar, relating what and how much the Lord had given to him through his glorious Mother, by the merits and prayers of St. Andrew. After giving a tithe-offering, in sight of everyone, he handed himself over to St. Andrew, placing upon the saint's altar two ounces of the purest gold. And just as in that very place he made himself a servant to honor God and in memory of St. Andrew, he likewise handed over [to the saint] his son, like himself named Fulco. Having been made a monk, he offered up a great gift to provision the brothers, which he confirmed by a legal charter and the bishop's authority. When these things had been done with proper ceremony, the lord bishop came to Cambrai, and with fitting joy was received by his people.



Notes to the Text:

[1] Compare Ecclesiastes 12:12.
[2] Psalm 66:13-14.
[3] Galcherus would later be elected bishop of Cambrai in 1093; he was deposed in 1095 (but actively contended for the bishopric until 1107). Hugh 'the Abbot' became dean of the cathedral chapter of Cambrai in 1075 and helped to endow the reform monastery of Saint-Sauveur of Anchin at its foundation  in 1079. Erlebald 'the Red' was a prominent citizen of Cambrai, who established Sainte-Croix, a house of secular canons attached to the cathedral, in 1070.
[4] The Roman province of Pannonia lies in modern western Hungary. Martin, an early Christian confessor-saint (d. 397) who later was made bishop of Tours in central France, was native to the region. His cult was widely celebrated throughout Europe and particularly in France.
[5] The people being described here are likely Pechenegs, on which see Alexsander Paroń, The Pechenegs: Nomads in the Political and Cultural Landscape of Medieval Europe, trans. Thomas Anessi (Leiden: Brill, 2021), 163. My thanks to Natalia Zajac for the reference.
[6] Psalm 59:3.
[7] 1 Peter 5:8-9.
[8] Romans 8:31.
[9] Ephesians 6:11.
[10] 1 Cor. 10:13.
[11] Luke 9:62.
[12] This passage echoes Virgil, Aeneid, 11.874, and 5.557ff.
[13] Horace, Odes, 2.6.1.
[14] Compare Sulpicius Severus, The Life of St. Martin of Tours 12.3.
[15] Roman emperor who ruled from 284-305; responsible for sporadic yet severe persecutions of Christians during his rule. Dalmatia was the region (formerly a Roman province) between the Black and Adriatic seas; it is possible that Raoul is referring to the famous Palace of Diocletian at Split (Spalato).
[16] While the Roman province of Isauria is a mountainous region in south-central Asia Minor, Lietbertus and his fellow pilgrims had traveled through modern Croatia and south toward Greece.
[17] Demetrius was a deacon martyred at Sirmium; his uncertain biography has him a resident of Salonika murdered by the emperor Maximian and (in another tradition) a soldier martyred for his faith in the fourth century. Corinth is in southern Greece but, according to the editor Hofmeister, Demetrius was buried in Thessalonika, in the north. It is worth noting here the degree to which the text -- composed a half-century or so after the event, and following the capture of Jerusalem by the first crusaders in 1099, portrays the bishop and his companions as soldiers of Christ (and their entire group an 'army of God') and links them to the warrior-saints Martin and Demetrius. The latter's cult became increasingly popular in western Europe in the wake of the crusades.
[18] Raoul, somewhat frustratingly, tells us nothing of the pilgrims' passage from Greece to Syria. If he passed through Thessalonika, this would suggest he also traversed Constantinople (after which he could have crossed through Isauria). The geography in this section thus appears to be garbled.
[19] The "King of the Babylonians" presumably refers to the Fatimid caliph in Cairo, al-Mustansir (r. 1036-1094).
[20] An arch-chaplain and vicedominus of the church of Arras, in the diocese of Cambrai.
[21] Compare Matthew 14:31.
[22] Matthew 8:22.
[23] The monastery of Saint-André at Le Cateau-Cambrésis, about 25 km southeast of Cambrai.
[24] Ephesians 5:2.
[25] Compare Luke 16:24.
[26] Compare Virgil, Aeneid, 9.166.
[27] Virgilian echoes here as well, 5.159 and 9.371.
[28] This last line is taken directly from the Aeneid, 1.132.
[29] Virgil, Aeneid, 1.142.
[30] John 2:3.
[31] The story of Theophilus and Mary was a widely shared account of how a priest in the Byzantine Empire had begged Mary to intercede on his behalf after he had made a pact with Satan to become bishop.
[32] Virgil, Georgics, 1.438ff.
[33] John 11:1; Luke 7:12.
[34] This and many of the following lines are taken from Virgil, Aeneid, 3.124-208
[35] The year is now 1056. Katapant was a Byzantine title held by military commanders.
[36] Laon was a diocese which, like Cambrai, was in the archdiocese of Reims. Hélinand was bishop there from 1052-1096.
[37] Compare Virgil, Aeneid, 4.15
[38] Saint-André of Cateau-Cambrésis.