native of Perigord. He, after the death of his master, took a small barrel,
in the middle of which he placed a partition. In one half he put the sacred
sheet, and his drink in the other. In this manner he carried the relic back
to his native land, and placed it in a church near Cadouin, of which he had
charge. Fearing that someone might steal his treasure, he left it in the
barrel, which he put away in a chest near the altar, showing it only to a
few of the monks of Cadouin. But one day, while he was absent, fire broke
out and gained the whole village. All that was in the church was consumed,
excepting the chest that contained the barrel. The monks of Cadouin,
informed of the fire, hastened to the spot, and, having broken open the
chest, took away the barrel, and carried it to their own church. The clerk,
on his return, asked for what had been taken from him; but the monks said
that, inasmuch as they had risked their lives in saving it from the flames,
it belonged to them. The difference was arranged in this wise: the clerk
was received as a religious, and the keeping of the relic was entrusted to
him during his lifetime. He himself thought it safer there than in a rural
church.'

In 1392, when the country was distracted by the dynastic wars between the
crowns of France and England, the Holy Shroud was taken for safety to
Toulouse. Subsequently, the people of Perigord wished to have it replaced
at Cadouin, and the Abbot and Chapter of St. Etienne at Toulouse resisting,
much litigation ensued. In 1455 some monks of Cadouin took it away by
stealth, and brought it back to their abbey. Tarde mentions, among other
circumstances which tended to increase the importance of the abbey of
Cadouin, '_les bienfaietz d'une reyne d'Angleterre_'.

Had it not been for other plans, I should have continued my journey
southward from Cadouin as far as the Chateau de Biron, one of the most
instructive relics of the past in Perigord, and have taken on my way