Stained Glass
Queen of Cathedrals: Chartres

Almost everything about Chartres Cathedral is beyond normal belief. The barest facts concerning it and the more bizarre of its traditions have an air of unreality. Yet there it is, a manifestation in stone and glass of a city that at times was possessed, not by devils, but by adoration of the Virgin, the patroness of Chartres.

There had been some sort of church on top of the hill at Chartres for centuries. It had been set on fire by the Duke of Aquitania in 743 and by the Danes in 858. Fire also destroyed it in 962, 1020 and 1194. Each time it was rebuilt – six Chartres in all – triumphs of faith and unquenchable energy, culminating in one of the greatest masterpieces of Europe.

Since the ninth century the cathedral's sacred relic, the Virgin's tunic, had made Chartres a city of pilgrimage, adding to its prosperity, its fame and its standing as a centre of scholarship, with its important library and its international band of scholars. Chartres was not only a famous town; it had a strong sense of corporate identity and unity. It lay in the centre of fertile agricultural land, but increasingly its prosperity came to depend on its growth as a trading Centre. Many of the factors which made the town so full of vigour were indeed material; the catalyst that turned them into religious fervour was the Virgin.

There was a remarkable instance of this extraordinary fervour when the cathedral was being enlarged in 1145. It became known as the Cult of the Carts. The Abbot of Mont‑St‑Michel recorded that "men at Chartres began to drag carts, harnessed to their own shoulders, laden with stores and wood, corn and other provisions needed for the new church". Some accounts describe this amazing activity as a great penitential movement that spread through Normandy and the Ile de France – others portray it as a rather jolly outing with the citizens in friendly rivalry in collecting material for the workmen. It did not last long, but it was astonishing in that it so openly brought together all classes of society in the service of the Church.

There was a similar communal outburst of fervour in 1194, after the discovery that although much of the cathedral had been destroyed by fire the Virgin's tunic had been rescued. For this rebuilding, gifts flooded in from all over France and abroad‑from kings, the nobility, archbishops, bishops and all other ranks of the Church, and from merchants, guilds, workmen and peasants. Gifts begat other gifts; as St Bernard had written, "Money brings money; for I know not how, but where most riches are seen there offerings flow most liberally."

By 1222 the main part of the new cathedral was Complete, and all sculpture and stained glass was In place for the cathedral's dedication in 1260. In fact, most of the windows were glazed between 1215 and 1240 – a stupendous achievement, even though many glaziers must have been involved. Their skill was amazingly sure, for they used techniques which did not allow them, while they were creating a window, to see what it would look like when the light was shining through it. Moreover, they could not see – although it was essential to imagine – what effect their windows would have when seen at a distance.

But despite the unpredictable nature of their work, the glaziers of Chartres helped to create a spiritual sanctuary which continues to evoke a sense of awe. The windows glow harmoniously within the subdued light of the vast interior and, framed by the contrasting darkness of the masonary seem to be suspended in space.

Subtle variations of colour, particularly of blue, are produced by the continually changing quality of light. A radiant sky blue created by direct sunlight deepens to violet and purple as the sun moves away or is obscured. In dull weather the windows have a mysterious dusky glow, yet when pierced by sunshine their diapered borders glitter and their striking patterns of diamonds, trefoils and circles are delicately emphasized by fine bands of soft yellow light.

A kaleidoscopic effect of light and shadow, through which colours and forms appear and disappear in shifting patterns, is seen most dramatically in the clerestory lancets, where the tall biblical figures appear almost animated by the Sudden illumination of their savage expressions and hieratic gestures.

The scale of the gifts to Chartres and the range of the givers is reflected in the windows. Some four thousand donors are shown in figurative medallions – royalty, nobility, churchmen, tradesmen and craftsmen, a panorama of medieval society. In all there are the "signatures" of about seventy guilds, indicating their position and wealth the town. People are shown at their work. Underneath King David and Ezekiel is a butcher demonstrating how to kill an ox with an axe. Below Moses and the burning bush are two bakers with their newly baked bread. The winemakers' window shows the use of wine at Mass. The furriers gave the Charlemagne window, depicting the Song of Roland; their "signature" is a furrier showing a fur‑lined cloak to a client.

Inevitably, many windows were devoted to the Virgin. Among these are the north transept rose and five lancets depicting the glorification of the Virgin. They were the gift of Blanche of Castile, mother of St Louis (King Louis IX of France). In the centre lancet the mother of the Virgin, St Anne, is holding the infant Mary.

St Anne had become another revered saint of Chartres, because her skull, looted by the Crusaders from Constantinople, had recently been bequeathed to the cathedral. Once again Chartres was in the vanguard of a new cult, which did not become widespread in Europe until the fourteenth century, and did not sweep through France until the sixteenth century.