The Brotherhood Of The Holy Shroud (43 page)

Professor Marchais hesitated. The explanation the young woman had given was at least a serious one.

"I don't have much time, so tell me exactly what you want to know."

Ana breathed a small sigh of relief. She knew she couldn't make another mistake or she'd be thrown out like yesterday's fish bones.

"Well, specifically, I'd like you to tell me everything you can about the shroud's appearance in France."

With a bored gesture, the professor began a detailed recitation.

"The best chronicles of the time say that in 1349, Geoffroy de Charny, seigneur of Lirey, announced that he possessed a grave cloth bearing the impression of the body of Jesus, to which his family paid great devotion. Geoffroy sent letters to the pope and the king of France, asking for authorization to build a collegiate church in which to display the shroud so that it might be worshipped by the faithful. A collegiate church-in case your Catholic upbringing didn't clarify that point-is a church very like a cathedral, with an abbot and a 'college' of priests, in this case called 'canons.' It's that college of canons from which the term derives. So, to continue: Neither the pope nor the king replied to his request, which meant the collegiate church couldn't be built. But with the complicity of the clergy of Lirey, who saw an opportunity to increase their influence and importance in the seigneury, the shroud nevertheless began to be an object of public worship."

"But where had the shroud come from?"

"In the letter de Charny wrote to the king of France, which can be found in the royal archives, he assured the king that he had kept his possession of the shroud a secret so as not to inspire disputes among various communities of Christians, since other shrouds had appeared in places as far-flung as Aix-la-Chapelle and Mainz in Germany, Jaen and Tolosa in Spain, and Rome. It was in Rome, in fact, beginning in 1350, that a shroud, believed of course to be authentic, was displayed in the Vatican basilica. Geoffrey de Charny swore to the king and the pope, on the honor of his family, that the shroud that he possessed was the true one, but what he never told either man was how it had come into his power. Was it a family inheritance? Had he bought it? He never said, and thus we simply do not know.

"He had to wait years for authorization to construct the collegiate church and never lived to see the shroud displayed, since he died in Poitiers saving the life of the French king, whom he shielded with his own body during a battle. His widow donated the shroud to the church in Lirey, which contributed to the wealth of the city's clergy while at the same time inspiring the envy of the prelates of other towns and cities-and that, of course, created tremendous conflict throughout France.

"The bishop of Troyes ordered an exhaustive investigation into the Lirey shroud. An important witness was even brought forward to discredit its authenticity-a painter swore that he had been commissioned by the seigneur of Lirey to paint the image, and with that, the bishop prohibited its further display.

"It was to be another Geoffroy, Geoffroy de Charny the Second, who years later-in 1389, to be exact-persuaded Pope Clement the Seventh to authorize him once again to display the shroud. And once again, the bishop of Troyes intervened, alarmed by the influx of pilgrims to worship the relic. For a few months he managed to force de Charny to keep the shroud in its coffer and not actually display it, but meanwhile, de Charny reached a further agreement with the pope: He would be allowed to display the shroud on the condition that the clergy in Lirey be required to explain to the faithful that it was a painting done to represent the grave cloth of Christ."

In the same monotonous tone, Professor Marchais went on down through history, explaining that the daughter of Geoffroy II, Marguerite de Charny, decided to keep the shroud in the castle belonging to her second husband, the Comte de la Roche.

"Why?" asked Ana.

"Because in 1415, during the Hundred Years War, pillaging was rampant. So she thought the relic would be safer in her husband's castle, in Saint-Hippolyte sur le Doubs. She was an inventive woman, and when her second husband died, she added to the small income he had left her by charging a fee of a few pennies to anyone who wanted to see the shroud up close or pray before it. And it was her financial straits that led her several decades later to sell the relic to the House of Savoy, on March twenty-second, 1453, to be precise. The Lirey clergy protested, of course; they considered themselves the owners of the shroud, since the widow of that first Geoffroy de Charny had ceded it to them. But Marguerite ignored that. She lived in Varambom Castle and enjoyed the rents from the seigneury of Miribel, which were granted her by the House of Savoy. There is a contract to that effect, by the way, signed by the duke of Savoy, Louis the First. Since then, the shroud's history is transparent."

"1 wanted to ask you whether it's possible that the shroud came to Prance through the Templars."

"Ah! The Templars! So many legends, so unfairly they were treated, and all out of ignorance! It is rubbish, pure rubbish, that pseudoliterature on the Templars. Many organizations-some Masons, for instance-claim to be the heirs of the Temple. Some of them were, to put it in the popular parlance, 'on the good side,' during the French Revolution, for example, but others…"

"So the Temple has survived?"

"Well, of course there are organizations that, as I say, claim to be its heirs. Remember that in Scotland, the Temple was never dissolved. But in my opinion, the Temple died on March nineteenth, 1314, on the bonfire on which Philippe le Beau ordered the Grand Master Jacques de Molay immolated, along with the other knights who were with him."

"I've been in London. I found a center for Templar studies."

"I told you there are lodges and organizations that claim to be heirs of the Temple. I have no interest in them."

"Why is that?"

"Mademoiselle Jimenez, please. I am a historian."

"Yes, I know, but-"

"There are no buts. Anything else?"

"Yes, I'd like to know whether the de Charny family has come down to our own day, whether there are any descendants."

"The grand families intermarry. You should consult an expert in genealogy."

"Forgive me for pressing, professor, but where do you think this Geofrroy de Charny got the shroud?"

"I do not know. I've explained to you that he never said. Nor did his widow or the descendants who were its possessors until it passed into the hands of the House of Savoy. It could have been bought or received as a gift. Who knows? During those centuries, Europe was full of relics that had been brought back from the Crusades. Most of them were false, of course, which is why there are so many 'holy grails,' shrouds, saints' bones, pieces of the True Cross……"

"Is there any way to know whether the family of Geofrroy de Charny had any relationship to the Crusades?"

'As I said, you'll have to see a genealogist for that. Of course…"

Professor Marchais became more pensive, tapping the end of her pen on her desk. Ana sat silently, expectantly.

"It is possible, of course, that Geoffrey de Charny, whose name was spelled without the final
e,
may have had something to do with Geoffroy de Charney, with an
e,
the precept of the Temple in Normandy who died at the stake alongside Jacques de Molay and who also fought in the Holy Land. It's a question of the spelling of the name, and-"

"Yes, yes, that's it! They're from the same family!"

"Mademoiselle Jimenez, don't let yourself be led astray by what you
wish
the facts were. I said only that the two names
might
come from the same line, so that the Geoffroy de Charny who possessed the shroud-"

"-had it because years earlier the other Geoffroy brought it back from the Holy Land and kept it in the family home. That's well within the realm of possibility."

'Actually, it isn't. The precept of Normandy was a Templar. If he had possessed the relic, it would have belonged to the
Temple,
not to him or his family. We have a great deal of documentation on
that
Geoffroy, because he remained faithful to de Molay and the Temple. Let's not let our imagination run away with us."

"But there may have been some reason he didn't turn the shroud over to the Temple."

"I doubt it. I'm sorry to have confused you; in my opinion it's not a problem of spelling, it's that the two Geoffroys belonged to different families. And even if they were related, that would not account for the family's possession of the shroud, as I've just explained to you."

"I'm going to Lirey."

"Well, that's fine. Anything else?"

"Professor Marchais, thank you-you may not agree, but I think you've just unveiled part of an enigma."

By the time Elianne Marchais saw Ana Jimenez to the door she had once again confirmed her opinion of reporters: shallow, for the most part uneducated, and given to the most idiotic fantasies. It was no wonder there was so much rubbish printed in the newspapers.

Ana arrived in Troyes the day after her meeting with Professor Marchais. She rented a car to drive from there to Lirey and was surprised to find just a tiny village, with no more than fifty people living in it.

She wandered through what remained of the old seigneurial manor, her hands stroking the ancient stones, vaguely hoping the contact with them might inspire her. Lately she'd been letting herself be carried along partly by intuition, without planning things beforehand.

She approached a nicely dressed older woman walking her dog along the side of the road.

The old lady looked her over from head to toe.
"Bonjour."

"This is a lovely place."

"It is, but the young people don't think so-they prefer the city."

"Well, there is more work in the city."

"Work is where one wants to find it. Here in Lirey the land is good. Where are you from?"

"I'm from Spain."

'Ah! So I thought, from the accent. But you speak French very well."

"Thank you."

"And what are you doing here? Are you lost?"

"Oh, no, not at all." Ana smiled. "I came specifically to see this place. I'm a reporter, and I'm writing a story on the Shroud of Turin, and since it appeared here, in Lirey-"

"Hmmph! That was hundreds and hundreds of years ago! Now they say the shroud is not authentic, that it is a forgery, that it was painted here."

'And what do you think?"

"I frankly could not care less-I am an atheist, and I've never been interested in the stories of saints or relics."

"No, neither have I, but I was sent out to do this story, and work is work."

"But here you will find nothing. The fortress-what remains of it-well, you see it there."

'And there are no archives or documents on the de Charny family?"

"In Troyes perhaps, although the descendants of the family live in Paris."

"Live?"

"Well, there are many branches of the family."

"How could I find them?"

"I don't know. They don't have much to do with the village now. Once in a while one of them will come around, but not often. Three or four years ago a young man was here. Such a handsome boy! We all came out to see him."

"Is there anyone here who could tell me more?"

The woman gestured down the way. "Ask in that house at the end of the valley. Monsieur Didier lives there-he oversees the de Charny lands."

Ana thanked her and began walking briskly toward the house the woman had indicated, her anticipation mounting with every step. She was certain that in this unassuming little place she would find the nexus between past and present-and concrete evidence to support her suspicions.

Monsieur Didier was a man of about sixty. Tall and strong-looking, with gray hair and a stern face, he looked at Ana mistrustfully.

"Monsieur Didier, I'm a reporter and I'm writing a story on the Holy Shroud," Ana began. "I've come to Lirey because it was here that the Shroud of Turin first appeared in Europe. I know this land belonged to the de Charny family, and I'm told you work for them."

"Your business is of no concern to me, miss," he said, clearly annoyed. "What do I care what you're doing? You think I'm going to talk about the de Charnys because you're a reporter?"

"I don't think I'm asking you to do anything wrong, sir. I know you must be proud that the shroud was discovered here in Lirey."

"We don't give a fig about the shroud, young lady- none of us. If you want to find out about the family, go talk to them in Paris. We're not gossips."

"Monsieur Didier, you've misunderstood me. I'm not looking for gossip at all, I just want to write a story in which this town and the de Charny family played an important part. They owned the shroud, it was displayed here, and… well, I should think you'd all feel proud of that."

"Some of us are." Tall and robust, the woman who had just joined Didier in the doorway looked a bit younger than he, and a good deal friendlier.

"I'm afraid you've awakened my husband from his nap, and that makes him grumpy," she said to Ana with a warm smile. "Come in, come in. Would you like some tea, coffee?"

Ana stepped into the house before the invitation could be overruled by the old grump, who finally retreated to the parlor with a parting glare as his wife led the reporter to the kitchen.

There, Ana repeated the purpose of her visit while Madame Didier poured coffee for them both.

"The de Charnys have been the lords of this land for as long as anyone can remember," Madame Didier told Ana as they sat down. "You should go to the church- that's where you'll find information on them, and of course in the historical archives in Troyes."

For a good while she went on to talk about life in Lirey, bemoaning the flight of the younger generation. Her two sons lived in Troyes; one was a doctor, the other worked in a bank. She proceeded to detail the affairs of her entire family while Ana listened patiently letting her babble on. Finally she managed to steer the conversation back on track.