Dissing d’Arcis is a popular pastime among those who cling to the historical authenticity of the Shroud as the burial cloth of Jesus. His famous, undated, unsigned, amended and corrected memorandum has been roundly denounced as a deliberate falsification of the Shroud of Lirey, driven by his need to stimulate pilgrimage to Troyes, whose partly-built cathedral kept collapsing, and sometimes by his personal dislike of Geoffrey (II) de Charny, who seems to have gone behind his back to get his relic authorised for ostentation. To this end, say his detractors, he invented an investigation into the relic carried out by a predecessor, Henri de Poitiers, and in particular the admission of the craftsman who had originally created it.
None of this is justified, of course, and as usual, authenticists tend to differ in which details of this fabricated history they choose to believe. In fact, we do not need d’Arcis at all to decide that the Shroud was considered a forgery, and, paradoxically he is the only source we have to suggest that it was ever previously displayed as authentic. He claimed it had been acquired by the Dean of Lirey, who displayed it as authentic until suppressed by Henri de Poitiers, and that it was now, thirty-four or so years later, being displayed by Geoffrey de Charny’s son, Geoffrey II, with all the trappings of authenticity, but without explicitly saying so.
D’Arcis became Bishop of Troyes in 1377, but no mention of the Shroud is found among his or anybody else’s writings until over 10 years later. He was a local boy; born in Arcis-sur-Aube, about 30 km north of Troyes, and had succeeded his elder brother Nicholas (who was appointed bishop of Auxerre in 1372) to be a canon and later treasurer, of the collegiate church of St Étienne, in Troyes, before being appointed bishop, so if the Shroud had been well known in the diocese, surely he would have known about it. He seems to have been an active bishop, consecrating the high altar of St Urbain after a hundred years of hesitant construction, approving of the relic of St John the Baptist’s finger in Bassefontaine, and laying the foundation stone of the rood screen of his cathedral in 1385. He held office for eighteen years, until he died in 1395, and is buried in the cathedral.
The first dated documents referring to the Shroud are a series of letters and bulls by Pope Clement VII, dated 28 July 1389 (letter to de Charny), 6 January 1890 (a bull and two letters), and 1 June 1390 (another bull). The first refers to some previous correspondence, with Geoffrey II de Charny, with Pierre d’Arcis, and with Cardinal Pierre de Thury, who had visited de Charny on on his way back to Avignon after a papal mission to Paris. The pope seems slightly surprised that d’Arcis has forbidden, under threat of excommunication, the display of a figure or representation of Christ’s shroud which de Charny had acquired from his father, and formally permits it, pardons the excommunication, and says he has enjoined the bishop to perpetual silence.
Six months later his tone had changed. A second letter to de Charny reiterates the previous one, right down to the permission to display, the pardon for exhibiting the cloth even when forbidden to, and the injunction on the bishop to perpetual silence. However, it continues, in order to prevent error and idolatry, “as long as an ostentation lasts, no capes, surplices, albs, copes or any other kind of ecclesiastical garments or accoutrements are to be worn, nor any of the solemnities usual to the ostentation of relics performed. Torches, candles and tapers must be kept to a minimum, and no other kind of illumination used instead. And throughout the display of the said image, whenever a large crowd of people has gathered, it is to be formally announced to them, in a loud, clear voice, with no obfuscation, that the image or representation before them is not the true Shroud of our Lord Jesus Christ, but a painting or canvas made in the form of or as a representation of the said Shroud, of our Lord Jesus Christ.”
Clearly, Geoffrey had overstepped the mark, and was displaying the cloth as if it were an authentic relic, even if he wasn’t actually declaring it to be so. Not any more. Clement also notified other local diocese of his instructions. If d’Arcis didn’t tell him, who did?
Presumably this latest injunction was adhered to, as the next time Clement issued a bull concerning the Shroud it was almost passingly referred to as “the image or representation of the shroud of our Lord Jesus Christ.” This bull, of June 1390, simply enumerated the occasions when the Shroud could be displayed, and made clear that the income that might accrue from pilgrims visiting it was for the upkeep of the church and nothing else. It concludes: “In order that everything offered or donated by the faithful in order to obtain the grace of this kind of generosity, may be completely converted to the uses for which they were offered or donated, under the threat of divine judgment, we strictly command that no one, of whatever state, condition, or dignity, appropriates or usurps to themselves any of these offerings and donations, however small.”
Bishop d’Arcis died five years later and was followed as Bishop of Troyes by Etienne de Givry, who held the office for the next thirty years. No document relating to the Shroud appears to be associated with him, although he was bishop when it was transferred to the protection of Humbert de Villersexel in 1418, never to return.
At the turn of the nineteenth century, Canon Ulysse Chevalier, Professor of History at the University of Lyon, a prolific researcher into the primary sources of everything related to the Middle Ages, turned his attention to the Shroud, and published four books containing all the relevant documents he and his fellow researchers could unearth. First was “Le Saint Suaire de Turin: Est-il l’Original ou une Copie?” in 1899, then, with an Appendix of the texts of 33 documents, “Étude Critique sur l’Origine du St. Suaire de Lirey-Chambéry-Turin”, in 1900; then “Le St. Suaire de Lirey-Chambéry-Turin et les Défenseurs de son Authenticité,” 1902, and finally “Autour des origines du suaire de Lirey,” with another Appendix, of twenty documents, some of which are the same as in “L’Étude Critique.” Amongst them is Pierre d’Arcis’s celebrated memorandum, which actually exists in two copies, one heavily annotated with deletions and insertions, and the other more of a fair copy, topped and tailed with the obsequious formalities appropriate to a letter to the pope. The second has, written above the text in what is probably the bishop’s own hand:
“Veritas panni de Lireyo, qui alias et diu est ostensus fuerat et de novo iterum fuit ostensus, super quo intendo scrihere domino nostro Pape in forma subscripta et quam brevius potero.”
[“The truth about the Shroud of Lirey, which was displayed previously some time ago and is now being displayed again, about which I intend to write to the Pope as set out below, as succinctly as I can.”]
This succinctness seems to have precluded his quoting from, or enumerating, the original documents referred to, but d’Arcis does say:
“Paratum me offero hic in promptu per famam publicam et alias de omnibus supra per me pretensis sufficienter informare. »
[“I am quite ready to provide sufficient evidence to all and sundry justifying all the claims I have made above.”]
On the back of the paper is written:
“Copia licterarum domino nostro pape per episcopum Trecentem transmissarum, super facto Sudari de Lyreyo.” and “Magistro Guillelmo Fulconis – De panno sepulture dominice.”
[“From a collection of letters sent to our lord the pope by the bishop of Troyes, on the subject of the Shroud of Lirey” “Master William Falcon – On the burial cloth of the Lord.”]
William Falcon – Guillelmo Fulconis – was a canon in Mantes, and probably working in the Papal Court at Avignon.
Whether the memo was actually sent to the Pope or not, it seems that at least its salient information, that the Shroud was being displayed as genuine when it wasn’t, was known by the beginning of 1390, when Pope Clement issued his very restrictive bull. Ulysse Chevalier dated it at the end of 1389, although Jack Markwardt suggests early August, on the grounds that although it mentions an appeal to the King to get the relic suppressed, it does not mention that the Bailly of Troyes, acting on behalf of the King, had failed to get hold of it on 15 August.
It is the opinion of the Shroud authenticist camp not only that d’Arcis did not send his memo – which as we have seen is largely irrelevant to what actually happened to the Shroud – but that at least some of what he wrote was entirely made up, in order to suppress pilgrimage to Lirey in favour of his own church in Troyes, which was in dire need of funds. This, however, seems largely spurious.
‘Building Troyes Cathedral: The Late Gothic Campaigns,’ by Stephen Murray, is an exhaustive account of the tribulations of this huge Gothic edifice, which was begun in about 1200 and not finished until three hundred years later. Much of it is based on “fabric accounts,” details of the construction, collapse, and expenses of the cathedral, kept in various places and never collectively gathered or published. From them we can explore the causes and results of several substantial collapses, such as the upper choir in 1228, the crossing tower in 1365, and the upper nave and north transept rose in 1389. This last is supposed to have been the cause of d’Arcis’ enthusiasm to have the Lirey relic suppressed but since it did not occur until Christmas 1389, three or four months after his memo was written, the rumour cannot be sustained. Furthermore, although expenditure rocketed following the collapse, partially incurred by the emergency employment of a team of thirty labourers to help clear away the rubble and secure the remains of the building, the extra expense was almost entirely borne by large donations from prominent people, not from pilgrims’ contributions.
Redrawn from ‘Building Troyes Cathedral: The Late Gothic Campaigns,’ Stephen Murray
The years circled in blue are enumerated in detail in Murray’s book, under various headings. The largest contribution to regular income was from “Quests,” which seem to have been annual appeals, both to the general public, via boxes opened on the day of the annual Great Synod, and targeted to specific individuals and organisations. These raised 143, 172 and 141 pounds in the years specified. The largest irregular contribution was from donations (“Extraordinary”), from the King, the bishop, the Duke of Burgundy and other notables, which amounted to 198, 545 and 836 pounds. Bishop d’Arcis himself contributed 40 pounds in 1389, which was far more than could be expected from any sudden upsurge in pilgrims. Two years later he contributed a further 50 pounds. Other sources of income included levies from new canons, collecting boxes and various rents. The following table shows this in simplified form:
In view of all the above, the case for d’Arcis being dishonest, and inventing the investigation of his predecessor Henri de Poitiers, looks far fetched and somewhat mean-spirited.