West Facade (front) of Chartres Cathedral with its spires that transcend time – one being Romanesque and the other Gothic.

As the train left Paris-Gare Montparnasse, I realized that I had forgotten how much I loved to travel this way — by train. I watched as the countryside went by my window. Fields of sunflowers, now dry and dying, then fields of corn doing the same. Every now and then I would see an ancient, broken, stone wall through the trees, or a tower, or a chateau. My first daytrip out of Paris was taking me to Chartres…

The train took about an hour to travel the ninety miles between Paris and Chartres. The conductor announced our arrival while we were still traveling through the fields outside of town. Leaving the train station, there was no mistaking the direction in which to take — the spires of Chartres Cathedral rose above the rooftops, visually calling to the pilgrims who sought her out.

The face of Chartres stood in front of me, its sheer size dwarfing my puny existence. I walked across the dirt plaza in front of the church, and as I got closer its perspective changed from ‘facing a friend’ to ‘looming protector’. The biblical Kings and Queens lining the Royal Portal smiled down upon me, blessing my arrival — an arrival that took more years than I can count, three trips to France, and an hour train ride from Paris, to accomplish. Taking a moment to saveur my arrival at last, and the majesty of the building, I stood for a moment and let the sun shine down upon me before entering.

Entering the cathedral, the darkness shrouded my being like a veil. I stood inside the door and waited patiently. Slowly, my eyes adjusted, and as they did so they began to search for the very thing that makes this cathedral so magnificent — its stained glass windows.

Walking into the darkness of the cathedral my feet passed over the stones in the floor that are uneven with the centuries of wear. They passed over the dips and bumps, over the same paths of pilgrims who have, for seven hundred years before me, come to this place — pilgrims of Mary, pilgrims of history, pilgrims of art.

My feet passed over the stones as my eyes read the windows. Blue, reds, a little yellow, a little green. At first all I see are the colors.

The beauty of these windows lie in their age and function. Not only are they the original windows of Chartres, Chartres is the only cathedral in France to carry an almost complete original set from the 13th century. There are over 150 vitreux in the church and throughout the years their function has served as a primer, an illuminated guidebook, in teaching the lessons of the Bible and the history of the people who donated their efforts to the building of the structure.

Many of the original windows, 42 actually, were donated by merchants of the city. These particular windows contain over 100 scenes and depict the merchants’ occupations as well as life in 13th century Chartres. I have often wondered if the merchants happily donated those windows and the money to rebuild the cathedral or whether the fear of God, or the fear of going to Hell, guilted them into the donation … It’s hard to say.

I walked through the nave and on to the ambulatory behind the choir. Always aware of the stones beneath my feet. I passed Mary’s relic which has an apsidal chapel all of her own, to hold the Sancta Camisa — the garment she wore during the birth of Christ. There was someone playing a dither at the eastern point of the church, its resonating sounds echoing through the choir. The ambulatory is lined with bas relief carvings and more stained glass, arches of gothic design and chapels paying homage to various contributors to history. I kept walking, slowly, until I finally completed the full circuit of the cathedral and I wandered outside.

The exterior of the cathedral is no less fascinating than the interior — covered in carvings that explain biblical stories as well as those of the times in which they were made. But it is not only the sculpture on the outside of the building that is interesting … the architecture itself is full of angles and edges and dimensions that make the eyes wander over its body.

I finished my day in Chartres with a walk through the city streets, visiting two other beautiful churches, St. Aignan’s and St. Peter’s, then strolling by the river. The town was not crowded on this October day and I felt as if I had the streets to myself. I watched as the town’s children left school for the day, getting picked up by their parents or running through the streets, home for dinner. The old town of Chartres is being renovated to it’s medieval charm. My walk took me on a passage through time, before returning on the train to modern Paris.

Chartres is a World Heritage Site

Malcolm Miller is probably one of the ultimate pilgrims of Chartres. His love and knowledge of the cathedral brought him from England to the town of Chartres where he lives in a renovated 15th century house. He gives two tours daily of the cathedral to English speaking pilgrims. He literally wrote the book on Chartres, her stained glass windows and architecture. In the winter months he tours and lectures in universities around the world.

This building is like a book. Its architecture is the binding, its text is in the glass and sculpture. – Malcom Miller

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