Climate Change and Medieval Sacred Architecture

Chris Simmons

Notre Dame de Paris

Geography 495H

Dr. Jongnam Choi

Acknowledgement A very special thanks to Dr. Jongnam Choi for advising and evaluating this project. All of his help over the course of these past few years will always be warmly remembered by this author.

A Guide to Medieval Architectural Periods and Terms Approximate Dates for Architectural Periods Early Romanesque: 950 - 1080 A.D. High Romanesque: around 1100 A.D. Late Romanesque: 1130 - 1200 A.D. German Late Romanesque: 1140-1215 A.D. Early Gothic: 1140 - 1215 A.D. Rayonnant Gothic (Decorated), also High Gothic: 1215 - 1300 A.D. Flamboyant Gothic (Perpendicular), also Late Gothic: 1300 - 1500 A.D. Architectural Terms Ambulatory: A passageway that extends around the choir to allow the circulation of people through the church Apse (Apsidial): A small chapel attached to the wall of a church, usually radiating outside of the main body of the church (Apsidial--relating to an apse) Buttress: A structure used to support the thrust of the ceiling vaults of a church or cathedral, often extending beyond the exterior wall (however, internal buttressing is also used in some locations) Buttress Pier: A tall, narrow tower extending upward from the aisle level to support buttresses flying outward from the upper clerestory or roof level Choir (Quire): The eastern end of the church, where the altar is located Clerestory: The upper levels of the interior of a church, where large windows are often placed Flying Buttress: A buttress that arcs outward from the exterior wall, used in many Gothic churches Jamb: A figural sculpture placed to the sides of a portal in a Romanesque or Gothic church Lancet: A thin window (usually placed directly adjacent to other similar windows), used most often underneath a rose window Lintel: A rectangular frieze above the door but below the tympanum in a portal, sometimes stretched beyond the portal along the sides of the building in Romanesque churches (but often contained to the portal in early Gothic churches and eliminated altogether in later Gothic churches). Pinnacle: A steep, small, spire-like extension that often sheds rain outward

Portal: A church door or entrance, often surrounded by sculptures Nave: The main centre aisle of the church before the choir (western half of the church); on cross plans it corresponds to the lower vertical component of the cross Spandrel: The wall space immediately above the columns in an arcade, usually lining the nave near the mid levels of a church and often decorated with paintings or mosaics in the Romanesque period. Tracery: Thin, often curving stone decoration added to windows or architectural facades Transept: a north or south aisle extending away from the main aisle of a church; on cross plans, the transept are the wings making up the horizontal component of the cross Tribune Gallery: A passageway at the mid level of the church, formerly used to hold women or persons directing a service Triforium: An arcade (series of columns and arches) at the mid levels of a church between the aisle level and the clerestory, most common in Romanesque and Early Gothic churches and usually possessing a tribune gallery Tympanum: a half circular or bent triangular stone slab above the doors in a church’s portal entrance, often possessing relief sculptures during the Romanesque and Gothic eras

Simmons 1

Abstract

Shelter, as a means of providing an environment protected from the elements,

has always been a function of climate for traditional and premodern cultures. This study attempts

to explore the influence of climate and climate change on historical European shelters, and

particularly Medieval sacred architecture (which perhaps provides the best, most intact, and most

elaborate examples of constructions made during this period in history). In particular, building

elements and styles between the Medieval Warm Period (1000-1200), during which much of

Europe possessed a dry, sunny Mediterranean-like climate, and the Little Ice Age, which was

characterized by below normal temperatures and rainier conditions over Northern Europe were

analyzed. First, this study identifies the most dramatic architectural change of the high Middle

Ages—that from Romanesque to Gothic between 1150 and 1200 A.D. The Romanesque style,

with its small windows, low inclination roofs, and Classical Mediterranean design, was more

suitable to the dry, warm Mediterranean climates. Romanesque remained popular well into the

Thirteenth and Fourteenth centuries in southern and western France and Italy, long after the

invention of the Gothic style, largely due to the Romanesque’s regional climactic suitability to

the Mediterranean.

However, as rain, snow, cloudier weather, and colder temperatures became more

prevalent in the north, architects were compelled to design churches and cathedrals that would

provide more interior lighting (larger windows) and better roofing. The Gothic style, with its

pointed spires, high inclination roofs, large, symmetric windows, and efficient drainage system

in the form of gargoyles, was more suitable the Little Ice Age climate of Northern Europe. When

the Gothic style was used in Mediterranean countries it often took on vastly different qualities,

Simmons 2

and many of these southern Gothic churches were similar to the Romanesque and Early Gothic

designs from the Medieval Warm Period.

In addition to linking international architectural style changes in Medieval Europe to

climactic patterns, this study tracks the regional shifts in architectural styles still visible today,

such as the differences between Gothic windows in France versus Gothic windows in Italy, as

well as style changes over time (such as the expansion of window size and reduction of deep-

color stain glass usage from the high to late Medieval eras in northern Europe, as well as the

slow progression of gargoyles from northern to southern France at the onset of the Little Ice

Age). In addition, this research seeks to identify ways in which some of these style changes can

be seen as indicative of the location of the jet stream as it moved from a mean position over

central Scandinavia during the Medieval Warm Period to a new location over Northern Europe

(which provided these regions with colder and rainier weather). Introduction

Shelters have always been integral elements of human society; people have relied on

them since prehistoric times to provide vital protection from the elements of the outside world.

Of all these external realities with which humans are concerned, weather and climate are perhaps

the most fundamental considerations that go into the construction of shelters. We, as culturally

adaptive creatures, have the remarkable ability to modify our environments and live on virtually

any region of the earth where food and water are obtainable, and people familiar with a given

environment are often able to devise creative and effective adaptations to their native climates.

This is readily illustrated by traditional-style shelters developed around the world. For example,

the insulating, thick tent shelter adopted by the inhabitants of the desert Mongolian plain are

perfect for the dry, cold plains of northeast Asia, serving to keep dust out while sustaining

Simmons 3

internal warmth. Similarly, the stilted and ventilated houses of tropical regions allow for greater

internal circulation (resulting in a cooler interior) and protection from the deleterious effects of

the heavy moisture content of the soil during rainy portions of the year. And European shelters

are no different, with the brick-roofed villas and courtyards of Italy providing perfect shelters for

the hot, dry Mediterranean climate and houses with steep timber or mansard roofs in France or

England affording adequate protection from damp conditions, frequent rain, and occasional

snow.

Therefore, art and architectural historians, when studying the modification of building

styles and features through the ages, should also take into account changes in the weather and

climate that might have corresponded to or indirectly encouraged these alterations. Indeed, the

art and science of architecture itself can be simply defined as the innovations and features used in

construction of shelters, and while our modern society may have developed the technology

(using metals and sturdy artificial materials) to construct the same type and format of building

virtually anywhere in the world without modifying it substantially, more traditional, pre-modern

societies that construct buildings using their own flesh and blood and out of materials taken (by

traditional methods) directly from the earth must weigh climate matters more carefully. In

addition, these traditional societies must also be more willing to respond to the changes in

prevailing weather conditions that do gradually take place over time. Thus, looking at

architectural modifications during the pre-modern Medieval period might provide a better

indication of architects’ climate-related concerns than those buildings that were built using the

sturdy and more universally sustainable Western architectural innovations of later periods. In

addition, the Middle Ages also provide a particularly interesting example of architectural

Simmons 4

evolution because they stretch across one of the most dramatic climate transitions that have taken

place in the common era—the shift from the Medieval Warm Period to the Little Ice Age.

Unfortunately, this aspect of architectural science is often overlooked, and many

Medieval art historians use a linear historical outlook to label the transitions in style that took

place during the Middle Ages as simply architectural progress, innovation, ingenuity, or evolving

aesthetic tastes rather than considering the possibility that these changes may have served as

adaptations to a changing landscape. For example, in the architectural styles of pre-modern

Medieval Europe, the Romanesque style is followed by the Gothic style in the north, whereas in

the south many churches remained Romanesque until the Renaissance (at which point they were

built in Renaissance classicist style). Art historians are more likely to ascribe these differences to

regional trends, such as the influences of Byzantium and the Classical past in the south (and the

lack of this influence in the north), rather than to regional differences associated with climate and

climate change.

On the other hand, William Wachs, author of the influential book The Historical

Geography of Medieval Church Architecture, takes a more integrated viewpoint of the

differences in church architecture. In particular, he defined the north as having a cold, wet (and

potentially snowy) climate with substantial cloud cover for many days of the year and the south

as a mild, primarily dry region with persistent bright sunshine (Wachs 39-42). He then explains

how external building features, such as roofs, buttresses, drainage systems, and windows, varied

across Europe according to these generalized north-south climactic differences. His regional

observations are particularly helpful in understanding the architecture of the Late Gothic era;

however, many of them do not hold true for the Romanesque architectural period. Like

traditional architectural historians embracing the linear approach to history, Wachs ascribes the

Simmons 5

abundance of contradictory examples from the Romanesque period to the primitiveness of earlier

Medieval peoples and their architectural techniques (and he believes that the development of

better precipitation-handling techniques in later periods was a result of innovative adaptations

that architects from previous eras would have found useful had they been available). While

innovation and aesthetics likely did have a substantial role in the changes that took place

between the Romanesque and Gothic era, Medieval Europeans, as long term inhabitants of their

environment, would have been well adapted to their climate during the Romanesque as in the

Gothic period (and would have built shelters adequate to the prevailing climate of their time in

each period). Wachs made a fundamental error by assuming that the climate of northern and

southern Europe has remained exactly the same in the last two thousand years, when in reality

scientific evidence indicates that it oscillated quite dramatically during the heart of the Middle

Ages and during the architectural transition from Romanesque to Gothic.

This study, while elaborating on many ideas already established by Wachs, attempts to

provide a more holistic climate-oriented interpretation of Medieval architecture, in particular

focusing on the changes that took place in the construction techniques of sacred churches and

cathedrals surviving from the Romanesque and Gothic architectural periods (an era stretching

across nearly 600 years of European history from 950 A.D. to 1550 A.D) and associating them

with adaptations to the climate transition also seen during this epoch. In particular, this research

attempts to associate architectural features and innovations throughout the Medieval period as

potentially climate-related adaptations (rather than random or delayed innovations). Churches are

particularly useful in demonstrating this trend because they are the most complete structures to

survive from the Medieval period, and additionally, they represent construction efforts that

Medieval peoples put the greatest pride, care, and money into building. Thus, an analysis of

Simmons 6

elements surviving on the exterior and interior of churches—including roofs, paintings,

sculpture, windows, domes, spires, and gargoyles—can occasionally provide a valuable

illustration of changing climactic patterns. In this research, the primary evidence for these

observed trends was provided by an extensive analysis of hundreds of churches across the

European landscape surviving from the Medieval period.

However, as in all art, nothing is universal in Medieval architecture. While many

examples may appear to illustrate one tendency, a few, rarer churches may provide a completely

different interpretation. This method of interpretation is also complicated by the fact that not all

churches were perfectly built for the climactic conditions of their own time, and some features

probably served as aesthetic devices (or adjustments to other factors, such as the type of building

material available) rather than climactic adaptations. Also, different features built on the same

church from the same general time period might appear to tell different stories. In addition, few

records from the largely anonymous architects of the Medieval period survive, and thus it

remains impossible in the end to understand their true motivations (and indeed, some architects

may not have been completely conscious of the adaptive strategy they were employing). Thus,

this paper provides a possible interpretation of climate change through the lens of sacred

architecture, and as such, it presents ways in which various architectural features either indirectly

or directly serve as climate adaptations (whether they were consciously constructed as an

adaptation or not). But beyond the apparent trends seen in the majority of surviving architectural

examples (and records of preexisting church features), little other evidence is available to

confirm that architectural changes are directly influenced or caused by climate changes.

However, despite these limitations in approach, in many if not most cases the surviving

architectural and archaeological evidence in various regions of Europe fit strikingly well within

Simmons 7

the climactic transition framework of the Middle Ages, and perhaps vice versa the surviving

Medieval sacred architecture of Europe can be used to provide clues about the climates of the

past. Therefore, this study attempts to provide illustrations of how climate may have influenced

architectural features during the Middle Ages.

A Brief Summary of the Climate of the Middle Ages

A variety of scientific techniques have already been implemented in an attempt to

understand the climates of the past. Some of the best indicators are provided by tree rings, ice

cores, historical records, phenological (wine record) data, radiocarbon dating of organic material

crushed by expanding glaciers, and fluctuating grain prices, and although these methods

occasionally provide conflicting results for small periods of time, a broader consensus is

obtainable concerning the climates of various periods in history. For example, a generalized

Medieval Warm Period can be distinguished in most data methods, which stretched generally

from 800 AD to 1200 A.D. but was perhaps most pronounced in the Central Middle Ages (1000

to 1140 A.D.) (Fagan 19). This era of European history was marked by a strong westerly flow

(pushing the Atlantic ridge across Europe) which, along with increased sunspots and low

volcanic activity levels, likely provided mild temperatures and dry weather (Ladurie 255).

Extraction of the Oxygen-18 compound (O-18) from ice cap layers in Greenland, which can be

used to find average temperatures (high levels of O-18 indicate warmer temperatures), suggests

that the period from 800 to 1200 A.D. was consistently warm in North America and Europe, with

the greatest peaks in O-18 levels occurring between 950 and 1170, as Figure 1.1 above

illustrates. Correspondingly, remaining organic material near Hudson Bay indicates that between

880 A.D. and 1140 A.D. the forest limit in North America stretched several hundred miles to the

Simmons 8

north than it does today (257). However, these estimations may not provide a completely

adequate representation of European climates given errors and inconsistencies in the formula for

ice core data and their observation location several thousand miles away from Western Europe

(260). Tree ring samples provide a more regional scale picture of climate trends; Carbon-14 (C-

14) concentrations, for example, generally decrease when solar radiation is high (and are high for

when clouds, rain, and particulate matter block radiation) (263). Data obtained from tree rings,

appearing in Figure 2, seems to indicate a marked minimum in the Twelfth Century (associated

with greater radiation and warmer temperatures) and an increasing trend again beginning in the

early-mid Thirteenth century (associated with cooling temperatures).

Figure 1.1: Oxygen-18 composition for yearly layers in an ice core extracted from Camp Century, Greenland

Figure 1.2: Carbon-14 composition in tree rings

Other archaeological and cultural methods similarly suggests a warmer climate in Europe

during the Eleventh and Twelfth centuries; for example, the dominance of the Viking culture,

while perhaps most closely linked to cultural, political, and military factors in Europe, might also

provide important clues about the European climate of the Central Middle Ages (Fagan 62).

Simmons 9

Vikings maintained a colonial empire during the Eleventh Century, sailing across the northern

seas near Iceland and Greenland while avoiding major sea ice. This, however, was not the case in

the Thirteenth and Fourteenth centuries, as noted directly by an observer—Priest Ivar Baardson

of Norway—who indicated that the old routes to the Viking colonies had become blocked with

ice and were more dangerous (Ladurie 235, Fagan 49). However, increasing gales and ice over

the north seas had become a significant problem as early as 1250 (Fagan 62). Because Viking

boats were constructed in a manner that was relatively incapable of dealing with icepack on the

waters, the fact that they were able to traverse so much of the subpolar north in the 1000s and

1100s appears to indicate that warmer climactic conditions prevailed during this time in the

northern seas from Scandinavia to Greenland to North America (Ladurie 261). The jet stream

was also likely much further north than its average 56-60° latitude (N) position over Western

Europe, providing more rain to central Scandinavia and parts of Scotland while keeping much of

northern and central Europe in the warmer, drier high pressure of the Atlantic ridge (300). In

fact, the average temperature of the Medieval Warm Period was likely 1°C to 1.3°C warmer than

in the following centuries (254-255).

In addition, archived records also provide important indications of the warm and dry

nature of the European climate during the Central Middle Ages. For example, according to

Boulainvilliers, a Seventeenth century recordkeeper, the Sarthe River in France dried up three

times during the Medieval Warm Period (twice during the 800s and once in 1168) (256). This

dry trend is also reflected in organic evidence: strata samples in German bogs indicate that peat

levels were particularly low between 800 and 1200 A.D (256). Also, the dry weather allowed for

an increased likelihood of locust outbreaks, which were particularly severe in 873 and 1195 and

resulted in famine (257). Thus, the average climate during the Central Middle Ages appeared to

Simmons 10

be both warm and dry, dominated by the subtropical high ridge and similar to a Mediterranean

climate. The warm weather proved beneficial for wine grapes, and natural wine production

extended all the way into England (whereas today the viticulture limit is located on the northern

border of Champagne in France) (Fagan 2). Similarly, the dry, hot summers proved particularly

beneficial for cereals (the predominant agricultural staple in the diet of Medieval peoples), and

the population throughout Europe grew steadily during the Medieval period as more and more

land came under cultivation and inefficient Medieval agricultural practices naturally maintained

abundant harvests (Ladurie 258, 290). The population growth of the Medieval Warm Period also

provided a larger nonagricultural workforce and this fact, along with the additional wealth and

stability associated with agricultural success, allowed for the construction of a proliferation of

larger and more elaborate churches (Fagan 19). These churches, partially the product of a

favorable climate and also partially reflective of it, are analyzed closely in this study. In

particular, this research details the specific architectural features associated with these Eleventh

and Twelfth Century churches and how they reflect the warmer, drier, sunnier climate of the

Medieval Warm Period.

However, by the Thirteenth century, the Mediterranean-like climate of the previous two

to three hundred years was coming to an end, especially in northwestern Europe, and this is also

suggested by traditional climate-determining methods. By 1215, glaciers began to advance in the

Alps (after glacial retreat had been observed since 750 A.D.), some growing enough to crush

some Medieval mountain villages in the following centuries (Ladurie 250, 264). Ice core O-18

levels, visible in Figure 1.1, also appear to indicate a strong plummet in average temperatures

beginning in the late Twelfth Century and continuing into the Thirteenth Century (with O-18

levels remaining well below that of the Medieval Warm Period thereafter). Unfortunately, tree

Simmons 11

ring data does not correlate directly with the ice core data, but it also indicates an increase in C-

14 levels beginning in the Thirteenth Century. Thus, temperatures appeared to be getting cooler

across Europe, and the 1200s generally marks the transition from the Medieval Warm Period to

the Little Ice Age.

After nearly one hundred years of slow climactic decline, the transition to the Little Ice

Age was completed dramatically in the early Fourteenth Century in the form of rapid oscillations

in the mean jet pattern and semipermanent weather systems, known as the North Atlantic

Oscillation (NAO), in which the perpetually mild warm weather of the Medieval Warm Period

(consistent positive NAO) was interrupted by colder weather and large amounts of precipitation

(usually a negative NAO or transition to a negative NAO—when more precipitation shifts

southward over continental Europe) (Fagan 29). The unstable jet pattern, cooler temperatures,

and extensive rains led to the Great Famine, one of the most significant long-term food shortages

in European history. Fields were flooded in the spring and summer of 1315, followed by colder

temperatures that provided for a poor harvest. The flooding rains continued through 1320 in

many parts of Europe, providing for cooler temperatures (through evaporative cooling), a

shortening of the growing season, and very poor conditions for cereal crops (Jordan 17). An

increasing number of devastating windstorms in northern Europe (Normandy and England) were

also particularly harmful to agricultural production, and the freezing of the Baltic Sea during the

cold winters (the first time since the turn of the millennium) limited trade and the transportation

of food to some areas (18-19). Then, following this ‘Great Deluge,’ the years from 1320 to 1324

were characterized by an extreme drought (17). This precipitation pattern was not only

significantly discussed in archived records from the time but has also been demonstrated by

Mary Lyons in her analysis of oak tree ring growth in Ireland (17-18). She demonstrates that

Simmons 12

growth rates (highest in rainy conditions) were 7-10% above normal for most years between

1315 and 1318 and were as much as 10-22% below normal in the years from 1320 to 1324 (17).

These weather extremes, flooding rains followed by drought and accompanying some of the

coolest conditions ever seen (which stretched across the winters of 1310-1330), created extreme

agricultural instability that created the famine and resulted in a rapid increase in grain prices, in

Winchester, England (Jordan 17-18, Postan 103)

However, these climactically unstable conditions were not experienced by all of Europe.

Northern Europe, including the British Isles, northern France, and Germany were most affected,

whereas most of the Mediterranean basin escaped famine, not experiencing the same climactic

seesaw pattern as the north (Jordan 8). Unfortunately, due to the predominantly stable and

“gentle” weather pattern of the Medieval Warm Period, northern Europeans were unprepared to

deal with the disastrous consequences of this climactic shift (16-17). To make matters worse,

leftover grain or grains that did survive through the harvest period often rotted in the wet

conditions, not adequately protected by storage structures built during the warm, dry weather of

the centuries before (24). Several million people are believed to have died in the famine, which

caused the population growth rate, which had been high in the previous centuries, to approach

zero (10). Similarly, the Black Death, which wiped out an even larger proportion of Europe’s

population during the mid-1300s (estimated at approximately one-third of Europe’s total

population), also might have been edged on by the prevailing climactic conditions in the early

Little Ice Age. In particular, a drought in western China and wet and cool (but not freezing)

conditions in Europe (along with Pax Mongolia which allowed trade routes across Asia to

flourish under stable political conditions) allowed the Plague to thrive in Europe (Zophy 32).

Simmons 13

The agricultural instability during parts of the Little Ice Age also likely affected

pilgrimage traffic and church and cathedral construction, both of which were interrelated for high

pilgrimage traffic regions. During both the Great Famine and the Black Death, church

construction slowed or ground largely to a halt in many places, and this is especially true in

England (Architecture of Medieval Britain). A case study conducted by this author that surveyed

all major English cathedrals (to be discussed in another work at a later date) indicated that

construction projects were most frequent during the Norman era (the Medieval Warm Period),

whereas new work on cathedrals dropped off rapidly during the early and mid 1300s and many

ongoing projects were delayed or completed at much slower rates than during the Norman and

Early/Decorated Gothic periods. Also, churches must have needed to respond to the wetter

conditions by providing better architectural innovations that would handle larger amounts of rain

and snow, and building structural changes during the climactic transition period from 1200 to

1500 are the focus of the next two chapters.

In general, the conditions of the Little Ice Age, although not providing as severe of

weather fluctuations as during the Great Famine, extended into the Renaissance and beyond, not

ending until the Modern Warm Era began in the Nineteenth century. Figures 1.1 and 1.2 both

demonstrate this cooler trend extending through the modern period. In particular, Figure 1.2

shows two important minima in temperatures and a maximum in precipitation--Sporer minimum

of the Sixteenth century and the Maunder Minimum of the late Seventeenth century. These two

epochs, as well as the Little Ice Age in general, were characterized by colder, wetter conditions

over northern Europe, accompanied by a lack of sunspot (solar) activity and auroral reports

(which were both extensively documented by Early Modern scientists) (Parker 272-275).

Temperatures are estimated to have been 1° C cooler than average, and winters might have been

Simmons 14

several degrees Celsius below the current mean (Ladurie 244). In addition, the jet stream position

likely shifted to an average position 1° latitude to the south (56-60°N) of its current mean

position of 57-60°N (300). This would cause the jet to shift closer to continental Europe, with

oscillations in the jet stream more likely to reach further south over Europe than in the previous

Medieval Warm Period. Thus, it makes sense that northern and central Europe would be the

regions where the most architectural changes related to climate transition would occur, and

building style modifications that took place in the north (contrasted with changes or a lack of

change in the south) are the focus of this study.

Exterior Features and Decoration

Perhaps the most important climate-determining architectural elements associated with

sacred structures built during the Medieval period are located on church exteriors. This is

especially likely given the obvious fact that features placed on the outside of churches or

cathedrals are most heavily exposed to the weather. In particular, these external support

structures, such as roofs, buttresses, and portals, were entrusted to maintain the stability of the

sacred structure for essentially hundreds of years, keeping rain and snow out and maintaining the

inner peace of the temple to God (which served as a mansion and sanctuary to all people, rich

and poor). Thus, church architects applied their greatest attention and labor to the construction

the sacred structures that they built, and the high innovative adaptability of these designers and

stone masons to respond to needs associated with the weather, along with the great technical skill

with which solutions were devised, likely at least partly accounts for the survival and

prominence of Medieval churches and cathedrals across much of Europe even today. Therefore,

an analysis of the changes in exterior features protecting Medieval churches, such as roof

inclination and tile types, drainage systems, and buttresses, likely provide some of the best

Simmons 15

architectural indicators of the climate transition that occurred during the High Middle Ages.

Indeed, many of these shelter-related transformations might, upon a close and detailed analysis

of changes to church structure in a given region over time, reveal smaller climate shifts and

weather patterns that are undetectable by the limited variations in ice core data (usually located

relatively far away from the region in question) or poorly estimated weather indicators associated

with tree rings (due to vegetative trauma lag time). Thus, by analyzing the changes seen in

external features on church and cathedral facades that might be linked to climate transformations,

more information about the weather and climate of the Medieval period might be derived.

Additionally, broader trends in architecture might, in the future, be better correlated to the data

provided by the scientific measure associated with ice cores, tree rings, organic material carbon

dating, and other methods.

Roof Inclination

Of all of the exterior features placed on a building, the roof structure is probably one of

the most important determiners of climate and climate change. Roofs serve to protect church or

cathedral interiors from rain and snow as well as keep internal vaulting (if it exists within a

church) stable and dry. With increasing rainfall and snow rates associated with climate change in

the High Medieval period, it stands to reason that roofs also had to change to respond to the

increasing pressure and deteriorating effects of this added precipitation. One of the most practical

changes implemented, according to William Wachs, was an increase in roof inclination, which

served to accelerate rain and snow down to the ground. With a steeper roof in place, both liquid

and freezing precipitation would have been less likely accumulate on the roof, gradually seep

into the interior, and cause extensive structural damage.

Simmons 16

Wachs thus argues that northern churches and cathedrals, closer to the active weather of

the polar jet, had to promote a steep roof inclination, while southern cathedrals maintained the

same kinds of low angle roof structures that had been standard in the Mediterranean since

Classical Antiquity (as is evidenced by the low roof inclinations of Greek temples—Parthenon

13.7° and the Temple of Neptune at Paestum—17.6°) (Wachs 84). On average, Wachs finds that

High and Late Medieval southern churches maintain a roof inclination of 14° to 30°, sometimes

reaching as high as 45° with flat tile slates, whereas northern cathedrals maintain roof structures

with inclinations from 30° to 70° (89). Wachs also notes that transalpine Northern Italy acts as a

transition zone between the two regions, maintaining roof angles closer to 30° to 40° (84). In the

far north, such as the Alpine regions, Scandinavia, and Russia, roof inclination became the

primary architectural consideration due to heavy wet snowfall in these regions, and many

churches often adopted the needle spire to ensure that their roofs did not collapse underneath the

pressure of heavy snow (88). However, as a counterargument, some high elevation locations,

such as Splugen, Switzerland, maintained lower roof angles due to the prevalence of lighter and

drier snow that acts as an insulator for the church interior without significantly weighing down

the roof structure (104-105). Thus, during the Gothic period Europe appears to have maintained

large regional variations in roof inclinations based largely on climate differences.

However, northern churches and cathedrals have not maintained steep roof inclinations

throughout their entire histories. In fact, Romanesque cathedrals in both the north and south

maintained relatively low roof inclinations between 20° and 45° (100). Where Romanesque was

maintained as the dominant style in Italy and southern France, a variety of examples of low

inclination Romanesque roof angles survive, including the in the churches of St. Sernin in

Toulouse (Figure 2.1), St. Trophime in Arles (Figure 2.2), St-Foy in Conques (France) (Figure

Simmons 17

2.3), St. Vincente in Avila (Spain) (Figure 2.4), Santo Domingo in Soria (Spain) (Figure 2.5),

and the nearly flat-topped roofs of the cathedrals of Coimbra (Figure 2.6) and Evora (Figure 2.7)

in Portugal. While few original Romanesque roofing structures have survived unmodified in the

north, the low roof angles are still visibly apparent in the nearly flat-roofed chevet of St-Etienne

in Vignory (Burgundy, north central France) (Figure 2.8). Other examples can be seen in the

choir roof of the Romanesque church in Mareuil (Normandy) (Figure 2.9) and the low sloping

roofs of country churches of Liverdun (Figure 2.10) and St. Mammes (Figure 2.11) in Ile de

France, Epfig (Figure 2.12) in Alsace, Guer (Figure 2.13) in Britanny-Vendee, and Fixey (Figure

2.14) near Dijon.

Similarly, Romanesque churches in Cologne dating from the Central Middle Ages, such

as St. Maria in Capitol (Figure 2.15), St. Andreas (Figure 2.16), and St. Pantaleon (Figure 2.17),

show the same tendency for low inclination roofs. The nearby High Romanesque Trier Cathedral

(Figure 2.18) (built in the Eleventh and Twelfth Centuries) also maintains a particularly low

rooftop and provides a classic example of the low inclination structures seen on churches during

the Central Middle Ages (Prache 82). Further north, churches were more likely to have a central

tower and a larger roof inclination; for example, the Église St-Pierre of Touques (Figure 2.19) in

Normandy maintains a roof inclination closer to the maximum slope seen in the Romanesque

style, 45° (although much lower than most Gothic cathedrals and church roofs). In the German

Romanesque Churches of Cologne, like St. Pantaleon (Figure 2.20), central towers with steeper

roof inclinations (compared to southern Europe) were also used.

In England, church roof inclinations often followed the steeper Norman pattern

established in northern France. For example, Kilpeck church (Figure 2.21) in England has a

relatively steep roof over its nave (although also possesses a fairly shallow roof inclination over

Simmons 18

its choir). Of all the Norman churches, southern English churches (and northern French

churches) were more likely to possess a shallow roof inclination, such as the (approximately) 30°

roof structure at the priory church at Isleham, Cambridgeshire (Figure 2.22) (built in the 1100s

and influenced by Breton structures in northern France) (Platt 15). The chapel of Colchester

Castle (Figure 2.23), built in the late Eleventh Century, also possesses a particularly flat roof (9).

In northern England, church roof inclinations often a bit steeper but also relatively moderate,

such as seen in the nearly 45° roof angles of Fontaines Abbey (Figure 2.24) and the priory

church of Escomb in Durham county (Figure 2.25). Similarly, in Scotland church roof

inclinations were generally much larger than those of southern Europe, sometimes approaching

Gothic-style inclinations (such as in the church of St. Athernase in Leuchars (Figure 2.26)),

although often they were still lower than later roof inclinations. The church of Dalmeny (Figure

2.27) in Scotland, however, demonstrates a relatively modest roof angle more typical of other

Norman churches and the northern Romanesque style. Also, one of the best contrasts in roof

inclinations can be seen in the Temple Church (Figure 2.28) in London when comparing the

steep Gothic roof inclination of the Temple Church in London with its Norman rotunda, which

has a nearly flat roof.

The transition from low to steep roof inclinations, like all architectural innovations and

the climate change that accompanied them, was very gradual. In addition, other factors also

affected changes in roof inclination. For example, the great forest clearing campaigns of the

Carolingian periods and central Middle Ages, which brought more and more land under

cultivation, limited that amount of available large timbers required in the construction of low

inclination roofs (Wachs 89-90). Additionally, war and the construction of palisades and

bulwarks also depleted many thick timbers (Panofsky 95). Therefore, with only lighter timbers

Simmons 19

readily available, roofs also had to be made lighter, and the construction of high inclination roofs

allowed rafter thickness and width to decrease (thus allowing the use of lighter timbers in roof

construction that were more readily available and less expensive) (Wachs 90). Even Abbe Suger,

who commissioned the construction of the first gothic structure—the Basilique de St. Denis—in

the early-mid 1100s, explicitly indicates that, when trying to reconstruct the Basilique de St.

Denis, he was told by Parisian merchants that thick wooden beams could not be found in the

region “owing to lack of woods” (Panofsky 95). Abbe Suger apparently searched the forests for

these wooden beams himself and declared it a miracle, and a sign of God’s favor toward his

construction project, that he found a relatively abundant supply of large timbers. He then stated

that “when they had been carried to the sacred basilica, we had them placed, with exultation,

upon the ceiling of the new structure” (97). Abbe Suger also noted the “[great] length and width

of the new church”; and his use of thick timbers over a “wide” ceiling opening suggest that he

was constructing a low inclination roof, similar to other Romanesque churches that possess low

inclination roofs and require heavy beams (97). Correspondingly, the church of St. Martin des

Champs (Figure 2.29) in Paris, dating from the Romanesque-Gothic transition of the late 1130s,

also possesses a low roof inclination angle more characteristic of the Romanesque roofing style

of the Ile de France region. Likewise, the mixed Gothic-Romanesque church of St. Julien-le-

Pauvre (Figures 2.30-2.31), also in Paris, possesses a low roof angle characteristic of the

Romanesque style. Therefore, roof inclinations, even during the Early Gothic period, appear to

be relatively low, and this fact in turn indicates that abundant rainfall and snowfall was not likely

a major consideration in the construction of the roof of the Basilique de St. Denis and other

churches in the Parisian basin in the mid Twelfth Century.

Simmons 20

However, at the end of the Twelfth century and the beginning of the Thirteenth century,

roof inclination increased markedly in both France and England. Senlis Cathedral (Figure 2.32)

provides a remarkable transition example between the low inclination roofs of early Gothic

churches and the high inclination roofs of later Gothic structures. As Figure 2.32 indicates, roof

inclination began to exceed 45°, although remnants of the old Romanesque style low inclination

roof structure can be seen on roofs provided to the apsidial chapels. In the late 1100s and 1200s,

Notre Dame de Paris was provided with a similarly steeper roof structure (but lacked any low

roof structures), and in also in the Thirteenth centuries Chartres (Figure 2.33), Amiens, and

Reims were provided with roof structures that exceeded 60° inclination. Thus, by the Rayonnant

Gothic period of the 1200s, roof structures of cathedrals in northern France had increased

dramatically, perhaps in part to account for changes in prevailing weather patterns as the polar jet

slowly shifted southward (and trough oscillations in the polar jet would have been more likely to

reach northern France than during the Medieval Warm Period). Roof inclination angle increases

can also be observed in Germany’s Thirteenth Century Late Romanesque style, where the

rooftops of the churches of St. Aposteln (Figure 2.34), St. Kunibert (Figure 2.35), and St. Maria

in Lyskirchen (Figure 2.36) are remarkably steeper than earlier Romanesque churches (Santa

Maria in Capitol and St. Andreas) in the city. Similarly, some English Norman churches, such as

St. Albans Cathedral, were reworked and provided with a steeper roof during the Gothic era

(Pevsner 200).

In addition, this high inclination roof structure remained prominent in the north and even

moved southward with time, even becoming more prevalent in locations such as Barcelona,

Perpigan, and Milan (Wachs 106). The steep roof of St. Stephen’s Cathedral (Figure 2.37) in

Vienna, Austria also illustrates the importance of high inclination rooftops during the Late

Simmons 21

Gothic age in the north. In general, the Gothic style itself is associated with an average roof

inclination of 55° to 65°, much steeper than Romanesque churches, with the greatest inclinations

reached by the Fourteenth century (89, 100).

Most southern Gothic cathedrals, on the other hand, were built with the same low roof

inclinations that had been standard in the Mediterranean during the Classical and Romanesque

architectural periods. An abundance of examples illustrate this trend, although perhaps the most

obvious are the cathedrals of Florence (Figure 2.38) and Orvieto (Figure 2.39) in Italy. In

southern France, the same general trend can be observed, indicated by the very low roof

inclination (below 30 degrees) in Narbonne, France (constructed late 1200s and early 1300s, well

after roof inclinations had become steeper in the north) (Figure 2.40) (Prache 185). Similarly,

Albi (Figure 2.41) (which was built from the late 1200s to the 1400s) maintains an almost

entirely flat roof (238). This makes sense, as these areas would have been less likely to see fast

climactic changes during the early Little Ice Age due to their location adjacent to the

Mediterranean Sea. The latitudinal differences in roof inclination seem to confirm climate-

related changes in roof slope from north to south, and the increase in roof inclination in a given

region (especially along the climate transition zone) may prove important in determining both

the type of climate experienced at a given time and the regional climactic shifts that occurred

through the Medieval period.

With the advancement of the Little Ice Age in the Fifteenth and Sixteenth Centuries, one

might expect all roof angles to become steeper with the presence of more rainfall and

snowstorms. However, in England this does not necessarily appear to be the case, as the low

inclination roof angle of the King’s College Chapel (Figure 2.42) in Cambridge (comparable to

other perpendicular roofs) illustrates. Similarly, flat topped towers once again became a standard

Simmons 22

feature of the English countryside during the Perpendicular Gothic period, which makes little

architectural sense given the clear Gothic transition from low pyramidal towers to steep spires

(and the collapse of low inclination towers in Troyes in the late Fourteenth Century under the

influence of rain and frost). These trends may be primarily associated with changes in aesthetic

tastes, as are the later use of neoclassical Mediterranean temple-like structures in building

designs constructed by Inigo Jones, Christopher Wren, and others following the Renaissance.

Another potential reason for the lower roof angle in England might be the use of lead slates to

cover the roof, which can be supported at relatively high angles but tend to creep at extremely

high inclinations (104). In addition, the sturdier roof, better drainage systems, and the prolific use

of gargoyles might justify the flat roofed towers of the Gothic age, such as the Tour St. Jacques

(Figure 2.43) and the Tour St. Germain l’Auxerrois (Figure 2.44) in Paris. However, from a

climatological perspective, the introduction of Perpendicular Gothic might reflect the movement

of the mean jet stream position to the south of England during this period, which would have

provided cold but also drier conditions. Cloud cover would have still been relatively frequent but

precipitation not as consistent as earlier, allowing for a moderation in window sizes in cathedrals

(windows often remained large but were also flattened). A similar pattern of cool, dry conditions

during the Little Ice Age were experienced in England during the 1320s (associated with a

drought during the Great Famine) and also in 1666 during the Great Fire of London. In both

instances, the mean position of the jet shifted south over the continent, providing a prolonged

drought that, in the latter case, fueled the flames that burned down the Medieval core of London.

Another possibility is that conditions became milder before the Sporer minimum, as this period

in architectural history is marked by very slight glacial retreat in the Alps (from 1350 to 1550)

(Ladurie 264). Thus, with periods of decreased rain and drought conditions reestablished during

Simmons 23

parts of the late Middle Ages and Renaissance periods, a lower inclination angle roof would be

an appropriate adaptation to prevailing weather conditions over parts of northern Europe.

Spires Since the Carolingian Era

In addition, an analysis of spires roof structures can also provide important clues about

the position of the jet stream and nature of climate change in a given area. Steep spires serve to

dispel rain and snow efficiently, whereas towers with low roof inclinations (such as Italian

campaniles) are more likely to be degraded by the influence of precipitation (Wachs 117). One

must be careful, however, when analyzing the spire for climactic purposes, as they are also an

architectural feature with important metaphysical connotations (117). For example, Gothic spires

are often compared to fingers pointing to the heavens, the dwelling place of God, and such

sentiments may have coaxed the construction of steeper spires for nonclimactic reasons.

However, despite this limitation, a pattern does appear to emerge when analyzing the evolution

of the tower spire through the Middle Ages.

Most medieval spires likely descend from those known to have existed during

Carolingian and Ottonian Era, appearing as early as 800 A.D. on the Abbey of St. Riquier, which

is known to us from a copy of a Medieval drawing (Figure 2.45). These particular spires are

quite steep and vertical, similar to Gothic spires and very unlike Romanesque towers. This may

be partly related to the fact that the Carolingian and Ottonian periods stretched across the climate

transition associated with the beginning of the Medieval Warm Period, and tree and ice core

evidence suggests that temperatures were likely somewhat colder (and rain probably more

prevalent) between 800 and 900 A.D. than the centuries thereafter. Thus, with a mean jet

displaced further to the south than during the Medieval Warm Period, vertical spires would have

been needed in Central and Western Europe to provide better protection from the rain and snow.

Simmons 24

The abbey also appears to have a relatively high inclination roof over the nave; however, the

drawing also shows some elements of low roof inclination over the aisles of the church, which

might suggest that it was built in a period of aesthetic or climactic transition.

An analysis of Carolingian roof structures (and later reconstructions) also indicates that

Carolingian churches and cathedrals in the north were likely set at higher inclination angles

(despite the abundance of heavy timbers during this period, which was contemporary to the great

land clearing, that would have supported the development of low inclination roofs). For example,

the west front of St. Michael’s in Corvey (located in west central Germany) (Figure 2.46) has a

abruptly steep roof reminiscent of those associated with the Gothic style, and it also possesses

two vertical spires, required by the thinness of the Carolingian masonry below, that strongly

contrasts to most others from the Romanesque period during this time period (in addition, this

façade maintains as many windows as possible, indicative of the need for additional light).

Similarly, Lorsch Abbey and its gateway, the Torhalle (Figure 2.47), also have particularly steep

roofs not often seen in the following two centuries. Other examples of steep-roofed Carolingian

and Ottonian buildings can be found in the churches of St. Justinius in Frankfurt-Höchst, St.

Michael in Fulda (central Germany) (Figure 2.48), and St. George in Reichenau (southern

Germany). Also, in Steinbach (east central Germany), Einhard’s Basilica (Figure 2.49) possesses

a roof inclination that appears more similar to those seen in England and Scotland during the

Romanesque period. Steep towers were also a prominent component well into the Ottonian

period as well, as Mainz’s high inclination spires (Figure 2.50)—inspired by Ottonian

architecture—illustrates (Prache 53). However, further to the south, Carolingian architecture has

much lower roof angles and appears similar to Romanesque roof inclinations, as demonstrated by

the church of Santa Maria de Naraneo in Orviedo (Figure 2.51), Spain (848 A.D.) (Jansen 261).

Simmons 25

Therefore, steep spires and high roof inclination angles in northern Europe during the last

centuries of the first millennium A.D. may demonstrate the need for greater roof verticality

during this era associated with prevailing cooler climactic conditions.

During the Romanesque era, however, such great verticality is rarely seen in spires or in

roofs in both the north and south (Wachs 117). In fact, most ‘spires’ from this era are, in reality,

towers with flat rooftops or topped with low pyramidal designs (119). Because these inclinations

were not particularly efficient in minimizing the deleterious effects of precipitation, it is highly

likely that many northern and southern towers, unlike their Carolingian counterparts, were built

without rain and snow being a primary concern. Examples of these low-topped buildings can be

seen in the Romanesque and Early Gothic towers of Vezelay (Burgundy, north central France).

Similar northern European examples of low rooftop towers can be seen in the examples of Guer,

Brion, and St. Mammes churches in France and the flat-roofed tower of Dalmeny in Scotland.

Other prominent low inclination towers can be seen in churches built further to the south, such as

San Martin in Fromista (Figure 2.52) (northern Spain), St. Trophime in Arles (Provence,

southern France), St. Vincenc in Cardona (Spain), and St. Clement (Taull, northeast Spain). In

Italy, the primary tower associated with a church or cathedral was often the campanile (bell

tower), and in most cases (except in parts of northern Italy, discussed below) these structures

maintained a low inclination ceiling. For example, the Campanile of Pisa (Figure 2.53) and the

Romanesque campaniles of Rome (for example, the bell tower of Santa Pudenziana in Figure

2.54) all possess these characteristically flat rooftops.

Despite the presence of low inclination rooftops in most of Europe during the Medieval

Warm Period, regional and temporal variations also existed. For example, northern churches

were more likely to possess steeper spires than southern churches. Some churches in Ile de

Simmons 26

France and Normandy, for example, maintained pyramidal tower roofs that reached

approximately 40° to 50° inclinations. In addition, some churches located in Normandy, such as

St. Georges in St. Martin-de-Boscherville (Figure 2.55), possessed spires with even higher

inclinations that rival Carolingian towers in their verticality. Although St. George’s central tower

is wider and does not maintain the marked steepness as Gothic spires such as those at Chartres

seen in the century following its construction, it contrasts markedly with the low roofed central

towers seen in central and southern France and Spain (for example, the central tower of Sant

Ponç in Cobera in northern Spain (Figure 2.56)). Further south in western and central France (or

in some northern locations—such as Cologne, Germany--during the heart of the Medieval Warm

Period) the less severe, cone-shaped turret slowly became a prominent rooftop feature for some

church towers. These are exemplified by the spires on the west façade of Notre Dame le Grande

in Poiters (west central France), St. Pierre in Angouleme (west central France), and St. Pantaleon

in Cologne, Germany (late Tenth Century). These are much shallower and lower in inclination

than their Carolingian and Ottonian predecessors but steeper than the tower tops of Italy and

other parts of the Mediterranean Basin.

Changes in tower structure over time can also be relatively easily demonstrated by

contrasting towers of Early Romanesque and Late Romanesque/mixed Gothic-Romanesque

churches. For example, churches in Cologne built in the late Tenth, Eleventh, and Twelfth

centuries were more likely to posses flatter rooftops and low to moderate inclination tower tops,

exemplified by St. Maria in Capitol and St. Gereon (Figure 5.57). However, in the Thirteenth

Century, churches (for example, St. Martin (Figure 5.58) and St. Severin (Figure 5.59) in

Cologne) were more likely to have steeper spires than those built primarily in the Eleventh and

Simmons 27

Twelfth centuries, perhaps due to the onset of climate transition before the conversion from

Romanesque to Gothic in this region.

In addition, another possible indication of climate change is visible in the brief

continuation or revival of the Ottonian-style architecture in German churches during the early

1200s after two centuries of a prominent low roof inclination Romanesque tradition. This is

perhaps best represented by Bamberg Cathedral (Figure 5.60) (built in 1201 to 1237), which is

heavily inspired by Ottonian style and is flanked by steep towers (similar to those at Corvey and

St. Riquier) as well as a strongly vertical roof (approximately 40-50° inclination) (Prache 197).

The climate of this era of transition was likely closer to that of the Ottonian period than the

Romanesque, and German architects having to deal with somewhat greater precipitation

frequency, cooler weather, and more snow perhaps reverted back to Ottonian style (which had

already solved the problem faced by architects during a climate transition period) likely still

readily visible in other churches from the Early Medieval period surviving in the region in the

1200s. Thus, the evolution of German Carolingian, Ottonian, and Romanesque styles provides a

prominent example of how architects provided high roof and spire inclinations to churches in

Early Middle Ages, decreased them in the Romanesque style of the Medieval Warm Period, and

increased them again during the Late German Romanesque period of the Thirteenth century, a

process which might be connected the precipitation and other climate changes prevalent during

this period.

A further analysis of the towers and spires associated with Early Gothic architecture in

Late Twelfth and Thirteenth century England and France reveals that this period was a time of

tower rooftop transition. For example, the west front towers of Wells Cathedral in England, as

well as those on the French cathedrals of Notre Dame de Paris, Laon, Amiens, and Reims, all

Simmons 28

possessed relatively flat roofed towers. The central crossing towers of Notre Dame de Paris and

Sainte Chapelle (also dating from the 1200s), on the other hand, are more characteristic steep

Gothic spires. Chartres appears to be in the forefront, possessing a dramatically vertical early

Gothic spire on its west façade. North of Ile de France, Coutances Cathedral (completed in 1250)

has front spires that outstrip those seen elsewhere in France, likely due to the Norman experience

with spires extending back to the Romanesque era (St. Georges in St. Martin-de-Boscherville),

which in and of itself may be related to the cooler climate of this northernmost region of France

(Swaan 289). Similarly, lower inclination Romanesque towers on the Cathedral of St-Etienne in

Caen were replaced with dramatically steeper tower spires during the Early Gothic era, as seen in

Figure 5.61 (Janson 281). Further north, England’s Salisbury Cathedral (constructed from 1220

to 1270) appears less confused than French churches in Paris, Laon, Amiens, and Reims, with

very strongly inclined tower tops on both its west front and crossing tower (318).

The use of pinnacles, or small, highly vertical spires, also increased during the Rayonnant

Gothic period, and this new spire adaptation (related to the earlier turret, although much steeper)

likely provided better water shedding on roof and pier support structures. Pinnacles were often

constructed as steep pyramidal structures placed on top of rectangular block towers. The block

towers underneath the pinnacles, however, most often possess a cross sectional area that is

smaller than the base area of the pinnacle (Figure 2.62 shows protective pinnacles on the

buttresses of Beauvais Cathedral). Therefore, pinnacles shed rain outward, away from the

vertical block tower support, and thus keep the main tower sheltered and protected instead of

allowing water to slide down the tower façade and wear away at the stonework. Pinnacle usage

was particularly prominent during the Rayonnant and late Gothic periods, prevalently employed

to protect flying buttresses and their support towers (discussed below), and they also served as a

Simmons 29

primary aesthetic decorative element on church and cathedral facades. Thus, the appearance and

prominence of pinnacle features in the Rayonnent Gothic era and their continued usage in later

styles might also provide some indication of the climate change occurring in the Thirteenth and

Fourteenth centuries.

By the Late Thirteenth and Early Fourteenth centuries, spires generally tended to become

even more vertical, which can be readily seen by contrasting the Early Gothic northern west front

spire of Chartres with its steeper Flamboyant spire on its southern west front tower. In England,

Parrington Church and Warboy’s Church, built around the turn of the Fourteenth century,

demonstrate this greater verticality (Platt 157). The Gothic cathedrals of Ulm, Germany (Figure

2.63) and Strasbourg, France (Figure 2.64), possessing spires built in the late Fourteenth Century

and Fifteenth Century, are also strongly vertical, unlike anything seen in the Romanesque or

Early Gothic periods. Other examples of the general increasing steepness of spires in the Late

Gothic period can be demonstrated over continental Europe in the examples of Rouen Cathedral

(Figure 2.65) (and St. Maclou (Figure 2.66), also in Rouen in Normandy, northern France), St.

Stephen’s Cathedral in Vienna, and the spires of late gothic gateways, buildings, and churches in

Prague (Figure 2.67). Many of these later cases have spires that greatly exceed the verticality

seen during the Carolingian and Ottonian periods (accompanied by steep roofs that also

exceeded the high inclinations of the time of King Charlemagne)—perhaps demonstrating, to a

certain extent, the severity of the cooler and rainier climate that took hold in the north during the

Little Ice Age. Additionally, these High and Late Gothic towers contrast even more markedly

with their medium or low inclination Romanesque predecessors (dramatically illustrated by

contrasting the roofs of the tower-like rotunda churches of Prague (Figure 2.68) with the spires

of later Gothic churches). These changes in spire height since the beginning of the Gothic era can

Simmons 30

also be easily seen in the Cathedral of Naumburg (Figure 2.69), where the low inclination towers

built during the Romanesque period contrast strongly with the greater steepness of the towers on

the same church built during the Gothic era (Schmidt-Glassner 11).

Italian campaniles, on the other hand, remained largely the same throughout the High and

Late Middle Ages. For example, Giotto’s Campanile in Florence (Figure 2.70), characteristic of

Italian Gothic bell towers, was constructed in the late Thirteenth and early Fourteenth century,

and it maintains a very low pyramidal roof (almost flat) unlike towers in the north at that time

and similar to towers of the Romanesque era (such as that provided by the example of the

Campanile of Pisa). A few high inclination spires are seen in parts of Italy; for example, Santa

Croce in Florence maintains a single characteristically Gothic spire, as do the duomos of Siena

and Arezzo. However, the use of such spires may be primarily decorative, and they are certainly

not as extensively used on individual churches, nor are they as prevalent in the region as a whole,

as in the north.

A Case Study of Campaniles in Venice

In northern Italy’s transalpine region (where topographical influences and precipitation

are greater), however, the campanile often took on a more terraced appearance (indirectly

providing greater pointed verticality) or maintained a high inclination pyramidal top during the

Gothic era, which might be an indication of climate transition in this region. Variations in

Venetian spires over the centuries from the Medieval warm period provide a particularly good

illustration of these potentially climate-related architectural changes. During the Medieval Warm

Period, the polar jet is believed to have been shifted well to the north of Italy, providing a sunny,

warm, dry Mediterranean climate with only the colder months providing an opportunity for jet

interaction and notable precipitation. However, as the jet stream dived to the south during the

Simmons 31

early Little Ice Age, northern Italy would have been not only first to feel the effects of colder

temperature intrusions but also more likely to receive precipitation from more baroclinic lee

cyclones forming along troughs in the jet near Genoa or over the Adriatic. Colder air would have

also been capable of penetrating the Slovene Pass into the Venetian Gulf, also potentially

providing more freezing precipitation associated with northeasterly winds to this part of Italy.

Thus, the transition of Venice’s climate might have similarly induced changes in

Venetians’ outlook toward architecture which was not seen in other parts of Italy. For example,

Venice was willing to take the Gothic style much more seriously than much of the rest of Italy—

while only one Gothic church exists today among the nearly one thousand churches in Rome,

many of Venice’s churches built during the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries were constructed

in the Gothic style (Macadam Venice 82). One reason for this, of course, is likely due to

influence from the north as an important trading partner and adjacent geographical region;

however, this turns out to be a rather dramatic shift in style considering that Venice’s previous

primary architectural and aesthetic influences came from Byzantium and the Near East (the

importance of these connections can be seen in the Byzantine-styled Basilica of San Marco and

surviving Byzantine paintings, reliefs, and architectural fragments located throughout the city)

(Macadam Venice 53). Thus, other considerations, including climactic ones, likely accelerated

this shift away from Byzantine-Classical influences prevalent in most of Italy to that of the

Gothic north.

Before this architectural change, however, Venetian campaniles looked much like they

did in the rest of Italy and, indeed, most of Europe. Flat roof tops, such as those seen on the

Romanesque campaniles of Sant’Aponal (Figure 2.71), Torcello Cathedral (Figure 2.72), San

Geremia (Figure 2.73), and San Giacomo dell’Orio (Figure 2.74), proved sufficient in the sunny

Simmons 32

Mediterranean conditions. Other Romanesque monuments in northern Italy, such as Milan’s

Chiesa di San Ambrogio, also maintained flat-roofed Romanesque campaniles. In a few areas of

Lombardy, such as at Santa Maria in Pomposa and San Zeno Maggiore in Verona, Romanesque

campaniles were topped with a high inclination pyramid, which may indicate the beginnings of

climate change or mountain-related influences of climactic conditions in this general region, but

Venice largely maintained low pyramidal or flat-topped campanile roofs for the entire

Romanesque period.

However, by the Fourteenth through Sixteenth centuries, campaniles in Venice changed

markedly from nearly flat roofs to strongly inclined pyramidal roofs. Of course, the most notable

campanile in Venice, that associated with the Basilica of San Marco, has a markedly different

appearance than the city’s Romanesque flat-topped towers. The Campanile di San Marco

(Figure 2.75) was finished in the Late Romanesque period and altered through several times

through the Gothic era, the last time in the High Renaissance (Macadam 95). Thus, it appears to

have been built and modified during a time when the climate of Venice was slowly changing and

perhaps also becoming more cooler, which would account for its characteristic spire. Other

campanile examples from the Gothic and Renaissance periods also demonstrate the increasing

prevalence of steep-roofed campaniles in Venice; for example, Santo Stefano (Figure 2.76),

Santa Fosca, Sant’Alvise, San Fantin, San Martino in Burano (Figure 2.77), and San Giorgio

Maggiore (Figure 2.78) all possess characteristically steep spires. While not all campaniles built

during the Gothic era show such verticality, such as the campanile of Santa Maria Gloriosa dei

Frari with its relatively flat roof, even this church’s campanile is more strongly terraced than the

rectangular proportioned Romanesque campaniles. Other parts of northern Italy also demonstrate

Simmons 33

this trend—for example, both Modena and Verona possess several strongly inclined towers that

provide an important contrast to much of the rest of Italy.

Despite the prevalence of these Gothic campaniles and their clearly greater verticality

versus previous Venetian spires, they are not nearly as strongly inclined as the towers on some of

the Late Romanesque churches in Cologne, nor were they as steep as other spired towers being

built at the same time north of the Alps in Vienna (Austria) or France (especially by the Late

Gothic period). Thus, Venice’s flat topped campaniles seem regionally suitable to their

environment—not as inclined as in other parts of Europe that experience more precipitation and

colder weather but more inclined than central and southern Italy which experienced even more

typically Mediterranean weather conditions. Other trends in Venetian roofs also might reflect

this trend; for example, excluding its Byzantine domes, the Basilica of San Marco maintains a

nearly flat roof top, as does the Romanesque church of San Giacomo dell’Orio and the secular

Romanesque Fondaco Dei Turchi. These contrast markedly with the steeper roof of the nearby

Gothic Doge’s Palace. Similarly, many Gothic churches in the city, such as Santa Maria Gloriosa

dei Frari, Madonna dell’Orto, and San Giovanni e Paolo, maintain relatively steep roofs—

approximately between 30° and 45° inclination—more vertical than those seen in many areas of

southern Italy but not nearly as steep as those north of the Alps. Therefore, using the example of

architecture in Venice, variation in spires and campanile roof structures appears to provide at

least an indication of the climate change that occurred in Northern Italy by the Fourteenth,

Fifteenth, and Sixteenth centuries as the onset of the Little Ice Age.

Roof Tiles

In addition to roof and spire inclination, the type of roof tile used in church construction

might also be able to provide important information about climate and climate change during the

Simmons 34

Middle Ages. In general, the most prominent type of tile used during the Early Medieval era

stretching into the Romanesque period was the imbrex Mediterranean-style tile (Wachs 87).

These particular tiles, still prevalent across much of the Mediterranean basin today, are made of

brick and often have the shape of a half cylinder divided along its diameter. They also work

particularly well on low inclination roofs (like those seen during the Romanesque era) but

become much less stable when placed on roofs with inclination angles exceeding 45° (87). In

addition, imbrex tiles can be made relatively easily and cheaply, which is responsible for their

relative popularity and prevalence across southern Europe. In addition, most water falling on

these tiles is able to channel between the individual semi-cylindrical tiles down the inclination of

the roof (87).

However, imbrex tiles do not provide adequate protection from the elements for buildings

in a cold climate with lots of precipitation, such as that which characterized northern Europe

during the Little Ice Age. With a southward shift in the mean position of the jet, faster winds

associated with an increased number of cyclonic storms over Europe would have driven

rainwater in between the roof tiles, which in turn likely caused water to leak into church interiors

(93-94). Additionally, while imbrex tiles might be adequate for the dry Mediterranean climate,

most often associated with short bursts of rainfall with afternoon thunderstorms in the summer

followed by rapid evaporation, they are not able to sustain prolonged periods of rainfall or

persistently damp conditions. Although most rainwater drains off the rooftop, without rapid

evaporation a layer of water also clings in the crevasses between the tiles, which would serve

over time (through the process of capillary attraction) to weaken the tiles and allow ever greater

amounts of water to seep below the roof level and cause internal damage to the vaults, roof

supports, or interior. In addition, the freezing of rainwater in the crevasses between the tiles has a

Simmons 35

particularly deleterious effect on the roof structure, causing the bricks to spread apart and

creating significant gaps that allow water to leak into the interior. Similarly, the crevasses also do

not aid in the transport of snow to the ground; in fact, snow gets caught between the crevasses,

adding additional weight to the building’s roof during particularly heavy snowfalls and creating

the potential for roof collapse. In addition, as snow melts gradually, the cycle of snow melting

during the day and refreezing at night also weakens or even destroys the tiles. And in general,

these imbrex tiles are unstable under the steeper roof angles achieved during the Gothic era in

order to accelerate rain and snow to the ground. Thus, imbrex tiles appear to be particularly

ineffective under the kinds of weather conditions increasingly experienced by northern Europe

during the Little Ice Age.

Thus, it stands to reason that northern Europe would have sought alternative methods of

roofing during the onset of climate changes in the Thirteenth and Fourteenth centuries, and

indeed imbrex tiles in the north were gradually exchanged for flat tiles. These tiles were

relatively easier to make than the curved imbrex tiles of the century before, and they were often

made of metals (such as lead roof tiles of Chartres Cathedral) and lacked groves, which served to

minimize capillary attraction and roof degradation (93-94). While hydroscopic clinging is an

important consideration as rainwater spreads out along a flat tile surface (which provides more

friction than the channeled imbrex arrangements), these tiles could be placed on steeper roofs

than could be allowed with the use of imbrex tiles (93-94). Often anchored on securely with

bosses or flanges, these flat tiles, used in combination with a steep roof inclination, allowed for

faster rain and snow shedding to the ground (93-94). In addition, these tiles could also be

partially overlapped to provide even greater protection from the penetration of rainwater (93-94).

Therefore, the use of flat tiles in northern churches would appear to be an appropriate adaptation

Simmons 36

for cooler, damp, and rainy northern climates, while imbrex tiles seem more suitable to a warm,

dry Mediterranean climate. Correspondingly, a region by region analysis of tile types and

changes in tile designs, not only in churches but in secular constructions as well, over time

during the Central Middle Ages through Late Middle Ages might provide crucial information

about climate changes that occurred in Europe.

Unfortunately, most Medieval rooftops have been significantly modified since their

original construction, creating important limitations to this kind of research, although estimations

on the previous roofing styles of some churches (especially rural ones, which were least likely to

be frequently modified) can sometimes be inferred by assuming a principle of persistence (where

previous styles have been adapted or reconstructed according to their traditional original

appearance). Wachs indicates that the flat roof tiles began gradually replacing other tile

variations in the north in the late Eleventh century, after the climax point of the Medieval warm

period. However, other important factors, such as the opening of lead mines in the Thirteenth

century in France, England, and Germany, the expense of the roof tiles, proximity to mines or

centers of distribution, and kinds of local materials available also likely controlled the rate of

conversion to flat roofed tiles during the Central and High Medieval Period (Wachs 95, 100).

Thus, if conditions were still relatively dry and sunny, and the weather appropriately

Mediterranean, then the imbrex tiles might have continued to be used in many locations in the

north until climate change necessitated a transition in roof tile usage.

Indeed, many Romanesque churches in the north did maintain the imbrex tile tradition

during the Medieval Warm Period, and this is readily visible in the churches of St. Etienne in

Vignory (Burgundy, north central France) and the Romanesque-Gothic church of St. Madeleine

in Vezelay (also in Burgundy) (Altet 18, 120). Additionally, although their original roof state

Simmons 37

cannot be confirmed, the presence of brick tiles on the northern rural Romanesque churches of

Luzarches, Epfig, Guer, and Mareuil (previously discussed in the roof inclination section above)

may indicate the usage of imbrex tiles through the High and Late Romanesque periods. By the

Gothic age, however, slate tiles had become prevalent, as is evident by the flat tiles used over

late Romanesque churches in Cologne, and preexisting churches were also likely retiled to

provide better water shedding in later eras when Romanesque roofs adapted to the dry Medieval

Warm Period became dangerously unstable under the damp conditions of the Little Ice Age. In

addition, Northern churches, such as St. George in St. Martin-de-Boscherville, were also more

likely to adopt flat tiles due to demands to produce greater spire and roof verticality (perhaps,

again, related to the cooler, wetter climate of this northern region). One of the best examples of

surviving flat tile roofs is provided by Chartres Cathedral, which was reworked in lead sheets in

1335 after the clear onset of the Little Ice Age in the early part of that century (Wachs 106).

Because of constant modification and repair needed to maintain a roof structure, however, such

analysis is limiting, and a closer archaeological analysis of the original states of roof tiles (and

original and modified inclinations of roofs) of cathedrals or other buildings during the

Romanesque and Early Gothic periods in northern and central Europe is needed in order to

provide a better picture of climate change in the north using roof tiles.

Another prominent method of roof covering, especially in poorer or rural regions, was the

thatch roof. While no examples of original Medieval thatch survive today, sometimes traditional

usage of thatch in a given time period (or continued traditional use today) can give an indication

of past climates. In general, thatch cannot be used in dry climates due to the associated fire

hazard, so only regions that were appropriately damp could use this material as a shelter covering

(99). Thus, during the Medieval Warm Period, when the jet stream was shifted to the north,

Simmons 38

thatch remained unviable for much of Europe. Parts of Northern England, such as East Anglia,

did maintain a thatch tradition during the High Medieval period, and this provides clues

concerning the location of the polar jet. Tracking the usage of thatch as a roofing medium in

other rural regions, particularly through archaeological remains and surviving documentary

evidence, might provide important indications about the dampness of certain regions compared

to others. However, unlike original tiles (which can sometimes be found in excavations around a

cathedral or in remnants on the roof), thatch cannot be traced as easily due to its eventual

biodegradation. Additionally, changes from traditional, simple wooden roof structures to better

protected tiled roofs and the dates during which greater protection and support was afforded to

wooden roofs, also might provide important details about the nature of climate change in the

High Middle Ages, especially in England where plain wooden roofs were common during the

Romanesque era and parts of the Gothic period.

The Medieval Cathedral Transept-Nave Crossing: Regional Variations in Domes and Spires In addition to spires, domes were also prominently used as church vaulting or roof

structures during the Medieval period, and they are worth close consideration due to their strong

latitudinal and temporal variation across parts of Europe. The domes of the Romanesque period

were largely semicircular or slightly oblong, which allows the exposure of the roofing structure

and permits rain to spread out slowly along the sides of the dome accentuating the eroding

processes of capillary attraction. In addition, while domes are particularly sturdy architectural

features, wet, heavy snow could easily accumulate on the flatter surface of the dome top and

provide additional weight or melting and refreezing on the rooftop that could weaken the dome.

Thus, spherical and even slightly oblong domes are not appropriate for climates in the far north

and are rarely found there. The fact that Russian churches often maintained domes would seem

Simmons 39

to contradict this conjecture, but domes in Eastern Europe (probably an adaptation due to

Byzantine influences) are often limited in size, placed on larger towers or spires, often topped by

nearly vertical pinnacles, and possess strong tiling methods that limit snow accumulation. In

addition, the fact that many parts of Russia experience lighter, dry snowfall in the winter would

allow the domes to support more snow weight (and lighter snow would also be more likely to

blow or slide off the domes). The damper conditions, wetter snowfall, and cooler climate of

northwestern Europe, accompanied by a relative lack of classical and Byzantine influence,

resisted the development of domes in Northern Europe until well after the Medieval period had

come to a close.

As already demonstrated, in the Mediterranean Basin (and particularly Italy and

southwestern France), the characteristic vertical spire or pinnacle feature was rarely used over

the central nave and transept crossing in the Mediterranean as it was in Rayonnant, Gothic, and

even Late Gothic/Early Renaissance churches in the north. In Toulouse (southern France), the

strongly vertical crossing spire of St. Sernin provides an important exception, but many other

churches in the surrounding region began developing an alternative architectural feature—the

dome—during the Romanesque period. Like many surviving structural elements from classical

antiquity, the dome was a characteristically Mediterranean phenomenon, used in the Pantheon in

Rome and many other smaller temple structures throughout the empire. In addition, the dome

remained an important feature of many churches in the Byzantine-Greek world, such as Hagia

Sophia in Constantinople and the monasteries Hosios Loukas and Daphni in Greece.

Romanesque architects in the south, heavily influenced by classical remains and Byzantine

influences, were particularly likely to adopt this dome aesthetic (most often used to cover the

central transept crossing). This is particularly evident in Italy in the examples provided by San

Simmons 40

Marco (in Venice, Italy) and Pisa Cathedral, both of which maintain prominent domes dating

from the Romanesque period (Jansen 285). Although previous influences might provide a large

part of the justification of dome prevalence in Italy, this semispherical architectural feature is

also appropriately suitable to the Mediterranean environment due to a relative lack of rain and

snow in this region. In addition, windows placed along the lower lantern of the dome also serve

as a prominent means of providing light into southern cathedral crossing interiors, and these

windows also add an aesthetically appealing lightweight airiness to the transept vaults and the

ceiling (Wachs 82).This effect is particularly noticeable in the dome lantern in the Romanesque

Old Cathedral of Salamanca (Spain).

Further to the north, other parts of Europe also maintained dome structures during the

Romanesque period. Most of the domes in France are likely also tied to Byzantine influences; in

particular, western France had important trade connections with Venice and the Near East and

maintained the strongest dome tradition, and this is particularly well reflected by the dome

structures developed in St. Front at Perigueux and St. Pierre in Angouleme (the latter church is

built on a series of dome vaults modeled heavily off of San Marco’s domes)(Tilley 339). Also,

Western France is dominated by the Atlantic ridge and related Gulf Stream and experiences a

somewhat milder and drier climate than areas just a few hundred miles to the north and east, and

thus the dome structure must have been particularly appropriate during the Medieval Warm

Period when the Mediterranean-like climate already provided much drier and milder weather to

Western France than would have typically been seen in later centuries.

Also in France, Notre Dame in Le Puy en Velay (south central France) also maintains a

prominent, externally exposed dome structure in its central crossing. And eastern influences (as

well as ties to Western France) were similarly strong further to the south in Spain where

Simmons 41

cimborio domes were used in the Old Cathedral of Salamanca and Zamora Cathedral. The latter

two domes, as well as most domes in Italy, remained uncovered on the exterior façade (and

possess virtually no vertical pinnacle or spire protection of their relatively flat tops), but many

domes further to the north were given additional shielding by a low inclination roof (Altet 120).

Notre Dame du Port in Clermont-Ferrand (central France) provides a good example of this, as do

the dome-like vaulting structures that developed in lantern towers in Germany (for example, at

Speyer Cathedral) during parts of the High and Late Romanesque periods (although these were

surrounded by a steeper inclined roofs often exceeding 40-50° inclinations). In the case of St.

Pierre in Angouleme (western France), many of the domes were also protected by the roof

(unlike San Marco, where the roof domes are exposed) and the central crossing dome, which is

exposed, is provided an oblong shape and pinnacle at its top to ward off the effects of

precipitation. The fact that Spanish, southern French, and Italian domes remained largely

exposed on their exteriors, while churches further to the north often maintained low sloping roofs

(and a lack of domes slightly further to the north in Brittany, Normandy, Ile de France, and the

Loire Valley), suggests that domes might not have been appropriate for some northern

environments even in the Medieval Warm Period (but that low inclination roofs were relatively

adequate to northern precipitation draining needs during this period). Thus, the domes of central

and western France might have needed added protection, and this would have especially been the

case during the Little Ice Age (when further protective measures, such as the addition of spires,

would have been necessary in many places). Another telling sign is the fact that dome

construction became less prevalent in Western and Central France during the Little Ice Age.

In general, while elaborate dome-like lantern (crossing tower) interior vaulting is

particularly prevalent in Normandy and parts of England during the Romanesque and Gothic

Simmons 42

ages (such as at St-Etienne in Caen), the dome is curiously lacking in the North until Italianate

Late Renaissance and Baroque art and architecture became the predominant pan-European

aesthetic trend. The lack of domes in the Medieval Period may easily be due to climactic factors.

As already discussed, the flattened top of the dome allows water to spread out on a half spherical

dome surface, weakening the tiles and increasing the risk of the collapse of the dome. Northern

churches, on the other hand, often maintained spires rather than domes in their central towers.

This is readily demonstrated by Rayonnant Gothic churches (or Rayonnant additions to earlier

Gothic churches) such as Amiens, Notre Dame de Paris, and other locations. Salisbury

Cathedral, as discussed earlier, also maintains a steep spire at its crossing, as does the Late

Gothic Rouen Cathedral.

Thus, it makes sense that the spire, with its clear verticality and rain and snow shedding

capacity, would be predominant type of central crossing tower found in northern Europe and

used instead of the less climactically adaptable spherical domes. Even when domes were adopted

in the north during later centuries of the Little Ice Age, they often took a more oblong, parabolic,

or terraced appearance (and less spherical like those of the Romanesque period). In addition,

northern domes were almost always topped by a steeply vertical or terraced spire and further

protected by sturdy flat tiles (rather than the easily eroded imbrex-brick tiles used on the

Fifteenth Century dome of Florence Cathedral). These spire-like features can be seen in the

buildings and cathedrals of later centuries, such as that of the Institute de France in Paris (built in

the Seventeenth century) and the dome of St. Paul’s Cathedral in London.

The domes of transalpine Northern Italy, and specifically those of Venice, probably best

illustrate the evolution of dome structures over the course of the climate transition during the

Medieval period. For example, the domes of the Romanesque church of San Marco were

Simmons 43

originally shallow, hemispherical, and covered in easily-eroded brick tiles (Zuffi 14). However,

in the 1200s these domes were replaced by steeper dome structures covered in flat tiling and

topped by spire-like lanterns (14). And in the Venetian domes of the Renaissance and Baroque

periods, built during the heart of the Little Ice Age, prominent towers and spires were placed on

the top of dome structures that minimize the flat space over the dome (these were also often

covered in flat lead tiles). This trend can be readily demonstrated by the domes over the facades

of large scale churches of Santa Maria della Salute, San Giorgio Maggiore, Il Redentore, and San

Simeon Piccolo. Even more southerly churches in the Late Gothic and Renaissance periods,

such as in Florence, Siena, and Vatican City, had more prominent dome pinnacles or towers and

were made more oblong, contrasting markedly with the domes of earlier centuries such as those

at Zamora and Pisa. While this may likely be due to architectural and technological innovations

as well as aesthetic tastes, a more prominent negative NAO might have provided more

precipitation to the south as well on occasion, which would have promoted the adaptation of the

tiles and roof structures of the domes.

The Conical or Semispherical Roof of Apsidial Chapels

Another dome-like feature often seen on church facades is the semi-spherical apse. This

particular roof shape, which looks like a quarter sphere attached to the side of a building (and

positioned over an aspidial chapel or choir), was particularly prominent during the Romanesque

era in both the north and south. A simple, slightly upward-bent quarter sphere (in contrast to a

half spherical dome) constrains its lowest inclination area against the wall (thus minimizing the

flat area). Water, in turn, would be more likely to drain along the curvature in the wall than

spread along the dome (which would have been more of a problem in the transition period and

Little Ice Age compared to the Medieval Warm Period when walls were largely unprotected

Simmons 44

from running water), and the steeper inclination at the other sides of the dome would likely

accelerate water downward. In addition, these quarter spheres’ attachment to the exterior wall

likely made them sturdier and easier to replace than elevated crossing domes (which are largely

supported from support structures established below). However, despite some water drainage

limitations, spherical domes attached to larger wall or roof structures acted slightly more like low

inclination roofs than regular domes and were thus more acceptable to a greater part of Europe.

The choir of St. George chapel in Prague, while possessing a thoroughly modified roof, suggests

the importance of the semispherical apse. Often a more conical rooftop to the spherical apse was

also adopted, usually having very low roof inclinations in southern churches (such as St Sernin,

St-Foy (Conques), and St. Martin (Fromista, Spain)), and relatively high inclinations in the north

(such as the Norman Church of St. Georges). In some northern European churches, the

inclination of these apse roofs was increased further by cutting the quarter sphere/cone in half,

producing a steeper conical shape that served to drain cathedral roofs even better. This is

particularly visible in Hildesheim cathedral in northern Germany. Additionally, in many of

Cologne’s churches (particularly the late Romanesque churches dating from the late 1100s and

early 1200s) a steep conical rooftop or even a geometric (greater verticality) rooftop to protect

the apses was generally preferred to the traditional quarter spherical or moderate inclination cone

variety.

Similarly, in the early Gothic age the spherical apse/cone roof had not been abandoned

completely, and this is suggested by their prevalence on the Cathedral of Senlis (completed in the

late Twelfth Century and Early Thirteenth Century) on the apsidial chapels of the choir. In later

Gothic styles, however, low conical and spherical apse rooftops were rarely seen, and apsidial

chapels were largely replaced by sharp, pyramidal rooftops, such as at Amiens Cathedral and St.

Simmons 45

Vitus in Prague, or pushed underneath larger spires. However, this produced creases in the roof

structure that could become weak spots and mandated the creation of more complex networks of

drains and gargoyles as water drained from one roof level to another. Also, in many cases the

chapel level was kept under a single roof of its own, and architects of Gothic churches also

brought chapels inside cathedral walls rather than radiating them outside the walls (such as at

Rayonnant to Late Gothic St. Baff’s Cathedral in Ghent and St. Jacobskerk in Antwerp,

Belgium). The transformation of the treatment of the apsidal chapel (and its roof structure) that

occurred from Senlis to St. Baff’s seems to indicate a clear incentive to protect the cathedral

from the harmful effects of precipitation. However, many southern churches and cathedrals did

not bring apsidial chapels within cathedral walls, and some churches in the Gothic style, two

notable example of which are Florence’s Duomo and Todi church, maintained outward-radiation

apsidial chapels with a proliferation quarter sphere domes. Nor would a southern Mediterranean

location like Florence have to worry much about the effects of precipitation on the dome facade.

Thus, the Central, High, and Late Medieval evolution of the spherical/conical apse rooftop, as

well as changes in the architectural positioning of apsidial chapels within the framework of a

sacred building, may also be related to climate change occurring in Europe in the Thirteenth and

Fourteenth Centuries.

Roof Drainage: Gutters and Gargoyles

The gutter systems added to roofs during various architectural periods of the Middle

Ages also provide an important indication of climate change. In particular, the prevalence of

precipitation is an important part of determining climate, and architects also had to take the

regional amounts, frequency, and kinds of precipitation into account when building the roofs and

stone facades of the churches and cathedrals in order to be successful in their construction

Simmons 46

endeavor. More specifically, persistent water running down facades of churches causes capillary

attraction, which can cause roof structures and stone facades to erode at joints, crevasses, and

indentations, and in turn destabilizes the entire sheltered structure (Wachs 60). Therefore, the

fact that gutters did not exist on many Romanesque churches and cathedrals is particularly

telling, likely indicating that the Medieval Warm Period brought drier conditions more similar to

that of the Mediterranean to northern Europe (55). While various means of water shedding were

developed during the Romanesque period, such as splayed window sills, hood-moulds,

weatherings, copings, and cornices, as Wachs indicates

“by the end of the Romanesque period, however, most of the expedients to shed water were known and used. But they were not used universally nor consistently. In pre-conquest England, for example, few, if any were used; and even in the belated Romanesque of the Rhineland there was not a concerted effort to clear the walls of the water running down their surfaces” (55).

Thus, although several devices were developed during the Romanesque period to help prevent

capillary attraction, which indicates an overall awareness of the need to divert precipitation, the

shedding of water did not appear to be of great concern to Romanesque church architects. And

even by the Early Gothic period (late Eleventh and Early Thirteenth Century), as indicated in the

above quote, the shedding of water away from the facades of churches was not an immediate

concern to German architects. Therefore, while Wachs considers the climate of northern Europe

to have been constant in the past 2000 years, and thus interprets the lack of use of gutters and

shedding features as an ignorance of innovations from the past and present, the dry weather of

the Medieval Warm Period likely provided at least part of the justification for a lack of water

shedding features on Romanesque roofs, towers, and facades in northern Europe.

And indeed, at the close of the Medieval Warm Period and the onset of the Little Ice Age,

when the jet stream shifted southward and precipitation likely became more prevalent over

Simmons 47

northern Europe (along with more snow and ice), the architectural handling of precipitation

quickly evolved to adapt to these important climactic changes. For example, gutters began to be

developed in the mid Twelfth century and became more prevalent in the late 1100s and early

1200s, and cornices were also improved in Notre Dame de Paris to the point of having the same

efficiency as Mediterranean Greek and Roman cornices of classical antiquity (Wachs 63).

However, while gutters were systematically developed during the Early Gothic era, in

some cases they were likely much more inefficient than later gutters developed during the

Flamboyant Gothic period. This is suggested by the problems experienced during the

construction of Troyes Cathedral, which was begun in the 1200s and continued until the 1500s.

Of course, during the beginning of construction the Medieval Warm Period was coming to a

close (but conditions in Troyes, in the comparatively mild climate of southern Champagne, were

probably still relatively warm), but by the Fourteenth century climactic conditions were likely

rapidly deteriorating, and slow wear and tear on the early Gothic and Rayonnant parts of the

cathedral began to cause structural problems by the late Fourteenth century. In particular, the

gutters on the nave roof were ineffective in transporting the volume of precipitation experienced

at this point in history, and this, along with leaking and winter freezing inside the roof,

contributed to the nave ceiling’s collapse in 1389 (Murray 30). Gutters in the bell tower and over

the choir had also deteriorated over the centuries and required expansion and repair (30). In

addition, according to Stephen Murray, author of Building Troyes Cathedral, “the gutters

running between the pyramidal roofs did not have enough of an inclination to ensure a vigorous

flow of water” (10). These could have been solved by a higher spire inclination angle on the

towers, and this likely was achieved for other cathedrals built during and after the time of the

collapse of the tower. However, for Troyes Cathedral, whose construction spanned the transition

Simmons 48

from the Medieval Warm Period to the Little Ice Age, the gutter system had to be completely

reworked in later centuries (following major structural failures and collapses) to make up for

inefficiencies provided in the earlier construction methods. Thus, Troyes Cathedral provides an

interesting illustration of how climate transition and architectural failures, changes, and

innovations interacted with each other during the Gothic era.

In addition, as the Little Ice Age continued to push the jet stream to the south, and as the

Gothic style continued to evolve, gargoyles became a widespread feature on the cathedrals and

spires of northern Europe. Gargoyles are particularly effective devises for preventing capillary

attraction because they project water running down the roof top or walls of a church or cathedral

into the air away from building. Some of the first gargoyles seen in France were developed for

the Early Gothic cathedral at Laon (skipping the cathedral or Chartres, constructed earlier around

1200), and they achieved greater sophistication later at Reims, where they were placed at

strategic points on the cathedral façade to maximize drainage efficiency (Frankl 88). At Le

Mans, completed in the mid Thirteenth Centuries (although work on these stone sculptures was

likely continued in later centuries), gargoyles were projected further away from the cathedral,

also likely an added attempt to keep rainwater away from cathedral walls (90). As the Gothic age

progressed, more and more gargoyles were employed for drainage purposes on church and tower

façades, perhaps due to greater precipitation or the need for a more efficient draining system and

perhaps also partly due to better technical handling and skill of church drainage systems with the

onset of the Little Ice Age in the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries. This proliferation of

gargoyles on Late Gothic facades and spires is perhaps best represented by the example of St.

Stephen’s Cathedral in Vienna, which is virtually covered in gargoyles. In addition, compared to

the more decorative sculptural variety of Laon, gargoyles in later cathedrals often evolved into

Simmons 49

longer necked creatures specifically designed to remove precipitation away from a church or

cathedral as efficiently as possible.

In this respect, the density of gargoyles on church facades (along with, of course, the

dates that they were placed there) might also be an important climactic indicator. While churches

such as St. Stephen’s in Vienna maintain a large number of gargoyles, churches experiencing

drier Mediterranean climates, such as those Albi in southern France and Palma di Mallorca in

Spain possess a comparatively small number of strategically placed gargoyles, with few

pinnacles or other devices used to protect their facades from rainwater. A smaller scale regional

comparison through the Gothic period also provides a similar, potentially climate-related

illustration of changes in gargoyle usage. For example, focusing on the smaller city churches in

Paris, structures maintained fewer (or no) gargoyles in the Early Gothic era (for example, the

Romanesque-Gothic transition churches of St. Julien-le-Pauvre and St. Germain-des-Pres) than

in the Late Gothic Era, where churches such as St. Severin, St. Merri, and St. Germain

l’Auxerrois and the Tour St. Jacques proffer a much greater number of gargoyles. Similarly, the

dates at which gargoyles were added to preexisting gothic facades also might provide important

clues about the nature of precipitation efficiency and climate. For example, gargoyles were not

added to Chartres or Notre Dame de Paris until after the completion of cathedral construction in

the mid 1200s (at a time when gargoyles had been increasingly used at Leon and Reims).

Similarly, Early Gothic facades in central France undoubtedly lacked gargoyles until they were

added in later Gothic periods (for example, St. Madeleine in Vezelay and St. Etienne in

Bourges). In addition, gargoyles might even be able to indicate smaller variations in precipitation

and climate. For example, a church built in southern Europe during an unusually wet period

might have more gargoyles on its facades than churches constructed before or after this time (this

Simmons 50

might be the case in Limoux (southern France), where the number of gargoyles on the spire of

the church of seems unwarranted given its far southern location—indicating that it might have

been constructed during a prominent negative NAO).

These latter examples from Burgundy and southern France seem to illustrate that

gargoyles also spread slowly to the south over the course of the Thirteenth, Fourteenth, and

Fifteenth centuries. Indeed, they were employed in buildings and churches in Clermont,

Limoges, St. Nazarre, and even as far south as Carcassone and Limoux, perhaps following the

southward movement of rain and colder weather associated with the oncoming of the Little Ice

Age (Wachs 64). While Wachs maintains that “in the softer climate of Burgundy, in the center

and south of France, gargoyles were rarely used,” the climate change associated with the Little

Ice Age would have likely made gargoyles more prevalent in Burgundy from the Thirteenth

through Fifteenth centuries, and this is evidenced by the inclusion of gargoyles on the cathedral

facades at Vezelay, Bourges, and Auxerre. In the last case, the gargoyles also accompany a high

inclination roof structure that allows better water shedding (but this kind of steeper roof was not

typical of earlier churches and cathedrals in Burgundy, even during the High Gothic age

(Bourges Cathedral’s rooftop is not so inclined), indicating a possible climactic shift). In

addition, gargoyles were also employed in Milan and Siena during the Late Gothic period,

although the presence of exposed (unniched) sculptures also placed on their façades indicate that

decorative aesthetic rather than capillary action might have been the primary motivation for the

usage of these structures. In general, though, gargoyles were much less common in southern

churches and cathedrals and particularly rare in Italy, where the Gothic style as a whole was

much less common. Indeed, gutter systems were often less fully developed in Italian churches

Simmons 51

compared to northern cathedrals, which the Romanesque style and Romanesque-like external

features prevailing over the newer conventions of the northern Gothic style.

Other nonclimactic factors might have had a role in the construction of gargoyles—for

example, when the stone used for construction was particularly porous and susceptible to damage

from capillary attraction, gargoyles were more likely to be used, and additionally, gargoyles were

often limited to construction projects where available funding could be spared to provide

sculpted decoration (and thus not all churches could afford gargoyles) (Wachs 64). Therefore,

when cheaper lead pipe drains were developed during the Sixteenth century, these were often

used in place of the gargoyle sculptures. However, the fact that the gargoyle method of drainage

was developed at the beginning of the transition into the Little Ice Age and remained popular

throughout the rest of the Gothic period suggests that they are at least, in part, a product of the

increasing precipitation rates seen with the southward translation of the mean jet location during

the Little Ice Age. Thus, a closer analysis of the geographic diffusion of gargoyles during

different stages of Gothic style might provide additional meaningful information about the nature

and scope of climate change as the Medieval Warm Period came to an end.

Flying Buttresses

In addition, the flying buttress technique developed during the Early Gothic era provides

an example of another exterior feature that is affected by precipitation, and thus changes in the

flying buttress support structure during the Gothic era may also likely be affected by increasing

precipitation rates. During the Romanesque period, the thrust associated with the massive barrel

vaults used to frame the ceilings of many cathedrals and major churches had to be supported, and

this was often achieved by creating thicker walls. However, walls could only be made so thick

before becoming impractical and incurring great expense, so architects soon began using

Simmons 52

buttresses—or wall extensions lengthened beyond the exterior church wall—at the location of

vault-wall intersections so that actual church walls could remain appropriately thin. The buttress

feature continued to evolve over the course of the Romanesque and Early Gothic eras, and as

cathedral vaults rose toward the heavens, the supporting buttresses had to be extended further

and further outside of the walls of the church in order to support the thrust of the elevated

ceiling. It was in response to this need that the flying buttress was born. Many of these early

buttresses, such as those (reconstructed) at Notre Dame de Paris, radiate majestically outward

from the rooftop to the ground.

However, these features are also prominently exposed to the elements, and because flying

buttresses are relatively thin arches with a component of their projection perpendicular to falling

rain, they are highly subject to degradation through capillary attraction (Wachs 74). In other

words, water falling onto the individual stones that make up flying buttress arcs are more likely

to spread out on the partly horizontal stone surface of the buttress and seep into crevasses and the

mortar between the stones, which eventually would serve to destabilize both the buttress and the

entire ceiling of the cathedral (these kinds of deleterious effects would be especially rapid given

a colder climate in which water can freeze between the buttress stones). This degradation is made

even worse by the fact that some early buttresses even served as drains funneling precipitation

off church walls or roofs.

Therefore, in the cold rainy (and even snowy) climate of Northern Europe during the

Little Ice Age, flying buttresses would need constant upkeep in order to maintain the stability of

church vaults, and thus in the long run these support structures appear to be an impractical

solution to the vault thrust problem. Therefore, it is not surprising that the Early Gothic period

was the golden age of the flying buttresses, as precipitation at this time (the late Medieval Warm

Simmons 53

period) was likely still limited and flying buttresses probably served as a viable, effective, and

relatively permanent support structures under the drier (on average) climactic conditions. This

seems even more likely considering the fact that the first flying buttresses, such as those of Notre

Dame de Paris and St. Remi de Reims, were almost completely unprotected from rain and ice

(79). St. Etienne in Bourges provides another example of Early Gothic, large span flying

buttress structures, and it was also completed before the Little Ice Age. However, this particular

cathedral is located further to the south (in central France) than most Gothic cathedrals

constructed during this period in history, and it thus enjoyed a more favorable climate for flying

buttresses than most of northern Europe during later Gothic periods.

As precipitation increased over the course of the Little Ice Age, buttresses had to be

modified to limit their exposure to rainwater. In the far north, for example, Swedish and

Muscovite churches responded to the problem by developing a sophisticated system of internal

buttressing, using low, thick walls, providing converging walls when possible, and adding a

cupola profile that could carry the vault’s thrust to the ground (Wachs 76). However, internal

buttressing often limited the size of windows, which was not considered an option in many other

northern locations where interior lighting became one of the most important considerations of

church architects (74). One of the most popular alternatives to the exterior flying buttresses was

developed in English churches (which came under the influence of the stronger jet earlier in the

Gothic era): many of these cathedrals maintained buttresses underneath the aisle roof, when

possible, which minimized their exposure to the elements (74). Another popular method

maintained in England was the use of steeply vertical flying buttresses (such as those seen on the

façade of Salisbury cathedral), which provides a sturdier buttress structure (leaning closely

against the wall) that minimizes the component of the buttress perpendicular to the direction of

Simmons 54

falling rain (thus causing fast transport of water toward the ground and limited spreading on and

seeping into stone surfaces). In general, the creation of steeply vertical buttresses and buttressing

within church roofs in England in the Thirteenth century, at a time when more elaborate exterior

buttresses were still being used on the cathedrals of Reims and Beauvais in northern France,

suggests that the weather of England was first to deteriorate under the effects of a southward-

translating polar jet at the end of the Medieval Warm Period and the beginning of the Little Ice

Age.

In France, the aisle roof, which often extended below and outward from the clerestory

level, was the primary means of limiting the size and exposure of flying buttresses. Buttresses

were often simply extended from the clerestory to the aisle roof rather than to the ground, and as

the aisle roofs became taller and closer to the cathedral (and with the elimination of the formerly

prominent and separate triforium exterior terrace level), buttresses tended to become narrower

and more vertical. In some cathedrals, such as Amiens and Beauvais, buttress piers (towers

extending upward to meet the buttress), often protected by precipitation from gargoyles or steep,

water shedding pinnacles, were extended vertically from the aisle walls to height of the

clerestory, which allowed the span of the flying buttresses to be minimized. The Rayonnant

cathedrals of Reims, Amiens, and Beauvais also serve to illustrate changes in the treatment of

flying buttresses over the course of the Rayonnant period. Reims, the earliest cathedral built in

the Rayonnant style, possesses prominent flying buttresses in its choir, well protected by

pinnacles but maintaining a larger horizontal span more similar to Notre Dame de Paris than

cathedrals like Amiens built slightly later in the Rayonnant period. In addition, although Amiens

maintains some double-arched flying buttresses to support the cathedral vaults, Beauvais uses

them consistently to ensure their stability (which is understandable given Beauvais’s particularly

Simmons 55

disastrous experience with the collapse of vaults in the past). Similarly, while Amiens’s buttress

piers only extend to the height of the clerestory, requiring a larger arcing buttress span,

Beauvais’s towers stretch from the aisle roof to the choir roof, allowing a reduction in buttress

length. In addition, Amiens’s pinnacles remain relatively unprotected by gargoyles, whereas

Beauvais’s taller towers are covered with particularly long-necked stone monsters to ensure that

the buttresses and their supports are undamaged by precipitation. Thus, an evolution of

consciousness concerning the damaging effects of precipitation on flying buttress features is

clearly evident during the architectural evolution from Notre Dame de Paris and St. Etienne de

Bourges to Amiens and Beauvais, and this might be related to the climate changes occurring

during this time span.

In general, by the mid Thirteenth century buttresses began to be used with increasing

caution. For example, small drainage channels were carved into the upper buttress supports to

ensure that as little water as possible would run down them, and gargoyles were built out from

the buttress piers (these devices were also added to Notre Dame during a Thirteenth Century

remodeling of the cathedral, which may indicate an increasing consciousness of precipitation in

from the Early Gothic to Rayonnant architectural periods) (Wachs 80). In addition, more

invisible and protected methods of buttressing were developed in the church of St. Chapelle de

Paris. This particular structure has a very high vaulted ceiling, although most of the buttress vault

thrust is maintained in the interior and only relatively small extensions (called wall-adjacent

vertical buttresses) are maintained on the exterior (72). This example, along with a similar

structure of the Lady Chapel in Lichfield Cathedral, provided a model of architectural

engineering copied in many other parts of northern Europe (such as the Franciscan Church in

Bratislava), as it provided a perfect balance between the need for light (the walls of St. Chapelle

Simmons 56

are virtually made of glass) and the need to keep buttresses protected from the elements (Sloboda

41). The verticality of the buttresses also made the gargoyle method of draining more effective,

and indeed, two outward-projecting gargoyles are provided on the top of each wall-adjacent

buttress in St. Chapelle to provide better protection from water draining off the roof.

Eventually, vertical wall-adjacent buttresses became one of the most common forms of

buttressing during the Late Gothic period, seen in the particularly tall churches of Our Lady

Before the Snows and Our Lady Before Tyn in Prague, Czech Republic (as well as many if not

most others throughout Europe dating from the late Thirteenth and Fourteenth centuries—

indicating the rapid spread of this convention across northern Europe after its perfection at St.

Chapelle in the mid 1200s). This method of buttressing is also exemplified by the perfect Late

Gothic Little Ice Age cathedral, St. Stephen’s in Vienna, which maintains large wall-adjacent

buttresses that do not interfere with the large window size and are hardly exposed to the

elements. While the pinnacle-flying buttress support system never died out, as is evident by their

usage on the exteriors of St. Merri (Paris), St. Gervais-St. Protais (Paris), St. Vitus Cathedral

(Prague), St. Maclou (Rouen), and Milan Cathedral, the vertical wall-adjacent buttress method

became more and more common across much of northern and central Europe. One notable

exception is England—while the vertical wall-adjacent buttresses were relatively common, many

larger constructions during the Perpendicular Gothic period sported exterior flying buttresses, as

illustrated by Henry VII’s addition to Westminster Abbey in London and Bath Abbey in Bath.

While this may be due to changes in aesthetic tastes of this particular period of art history (when

exterior and easily visible flying buttresses were rare in England in earlier centuries), drier

conditions to the north of the polar jet (such as those experienced in the early 1320s) might have

been better able to sustain the exposed buttresses of this era than when the polar jet was more

Simmons 57

concentrated over far northern Europe during the transition from the Medieval Warm Period to

the Little Ice Age.

Although flying buttresses are perhaps more supportable in southern Europe where

precipitation is rarer, they were largely excluded from Italian churches and cathedrals built in the

Gothic style. This is likely due to the prevalence of internal buttressing in this region, which had

been first developed by the Romans and prevailed in Italy for much of its post-Classical history.

Although internal buttressing limits the size of church windows, large windows were not a

valued addition to church architecture in the south as it was in the north (and the Gothic windows

in Italian churches were often not much larger or more extensive than Romanesque ones—this is

discussed in more detail below). Thus, Italian churches largely maintained a consistent method

of internal buttressing with little reason to adopt the extended, external flying buttresses of

northern Europe. And when they were constructed with flying buttresses, such as Santa Chiara in

Assisi (which has a particularly larger horizontal span), they were often done without

consideration for the effects of light and rain. In addition, buttresses in the south were more often

used in secular architecture to balance that outward thrust of town houses and building walls

spaced closely together, as illustrated in the Late Gothic era thin arcing buttresses between

houses in Rhodes Old Town (Greece). Such thin and exposed buttresses would not have likely

survived long in the north (where other adaptations, such as closely adjacent housing clustered

on each side of the street, were developed by the Little Ice Age—resulting in some of the

irregularity of northern Medieval street plans).

Spanish churches, on the other hand, adopted the Gothic style with a greater zeal, and

flying buttresses were more prevalent on churches in Spain than in Italy. In addition, the

persistent Mediterranean environment and limited rainfall of the Spanish kingdoms made the

Simmons 58

arcing exterior buttress model of Early Gothic churches in northern Europe more climactically

acceptable, and many Spanish cathedrals maintained flying buttresses instead of the wall-

adjacent or underneath roof buttresses more prevalent in the north (Wachs 81). For example, the

flying buttresses on the cathedral of Palma de Mallorca are extremely long, exposed, and

stretched out horizontally (which would not suffice very well if this region had persistent rainfall

or damp and cold conditions). Pamplona Cathedral also possessed extended flying buttresses

with a large horizontal span built largely in the 1400s—long after such buttresses had gone

extinct in northern European constructions (Street 211). Similar flying buttresses added to

Seville Cathedral in the Fifteenth and Sixteenth centuries (well after the north converted to more

internal and vertical buttressing) are extremely long, prominently exposed without protection

from gargoyles, and are also nearly horizontal (which would again be highly subject to capillary

attraction, but concern for this did not seem to be expressed by Spanish architects in their

construction of flying buttresses). Southern France as well was more likely to maintain a more

traditional, wide arced flying buttress style of the Early Gothic and Early Rayonnant periods,

such as those seen extending from the choir of Narbonne Cathedral which appear to be hybrid

between the buttresses of Bourges and Amiens.

Exterior Decoration: Sculpture, Porches, and Outdoor Wall Paintings

Changes in the exterior decoration placed on church facades and portals can also provide

important clues about climate change during the Medieval period. In particular, Wach notes that

Mediterranean churches often sport a variety of different kinds of exterior decorations—mosaics

are often used on the exteriors of Italian churches, such as Santa Maria in Trastevere in Rome,

and many churches were decorated with external paintings and exposed sculptures, such as those

seen on the facades of the cathedrals of Orvieto, Siena, and Florence. Northern churches, on the

Simmons 59

other hand, remained relatively undecorated by such ornaments—most sculptures were kept in

niches or under porches or recessed doorways, and similarly many exterior façades possessed

architectural stonework for decoration (such as tracery) rather than elaborate paintings or

mosaics. These differences, according to Wachs, are likely related to climate, as greater rainfall

rates north of the Mediterranean basin tend to wash away outdoor paintings and mosaics and

erode sculptures (45). By contrast, the Mediterranean’s general lack of rainfall has allowed

external paintings and mosaics to last for much longer periods of time. For example, Byzantine

paintings placed on the exposed interior walls of the Parthenon in Athens (Greece) are still

visible to this day, and similarly the early Renaissance paintings on the facades of Florence and

Orvieto’s respective duomos have withstood the test of time (47). In addition, unprotected stone

sculptures placed in external settings are also popular in the Mediterranean environment, as

illustrated by the prominence of sculpted fountains in outdoor locations in Italy, such as

Bernini’s outdoor sculptures and fountains in Rome), the four fountain sculptures of San Carlo

alle Quattro Fontane (also in Rome), and the procession of saints on the colonnade stretching out

from St. Peter’s Basilica in Vatican City. Stone sculptures and deep stone reliefs also often hang

off the facades or stand on the rooftops of churches, such as Siena’s Duomo, fully exposed to the

elements, and they have remained relatively intact with time. Some of dissimilarities in the

treatment of exterior sculpture decoration between northern and southern environments is likely

associated with carving mediums. Northern churches often used local stone—usually

limestone—for exterior sculptures, while Mediterranean environments more frequently used

quarried marble. Nevertheless, exterior exposure of art and outward aesthetic flamboyance (such

as in the triptych-like facades of Orvieto and Siena cathedrals) is rarely seen in Northern Gothic

Simmons 60

cathedrals, which primarily use architectural rather than sculptural decoration as the primary

aesthetic for facades above the portal/porch level.

However, Wachs fails to take into account another important point—many northern

churches throughout the Romanesque era, and even some churches built in the Gothic style, did

possess external paintings, exposed or poorly recessed sculptures, and sometimes even mosaics.

Therefore, the gradual loss of these prominent decorative schemes is likely not only associated

with changes in aesthetic tastes associated with new architectural innovations but also at least

partially due to northern Europe’s shift from a Mediterranean, viticulture climate (where this

kind of external layout was easily supportable given the dry conditions) to a much cooler and

wetter temperate climate.

Exterior Painting in Northern Cathedrals

For example, as had been practiced in the Mediterranean basin in Classical Antiquity,

many church and building facades during the Romanesque period were painted in both the

Mediterranean regions and Northern Europe. Not all Romanesque cathedrals possessed painted

exteriors, and the exclusion of outdoor paintings was probably more common in the north than in

the south (for example, Norman cathedral exteriors were often bare). In addition, sometimes in

the place of painted decoration, polychrome masonry was arranged in patterns on the exterior

(and sometimes interior) walls, such as the alternating red, black, white, yellow pattern at Notre

Dame du Puy en Velay and the reds, whites, and dark greys of Marmoutier and Rosheim in

Alsace (Altet 58). However, many churches, cathedrals, and monasteries that could afford further

painted decoration often invested in it. Unfortunately, few examples of exterior Romanesque

decoration on northern churches and cathedrals survive to illustrate this trend, likely due to the

slow wear of time and deleterious climate changes seen during the Little Ice Age, although an

Simmons 61

important example of what many Romanesque exteriors must have looked liked survives in the

example of fresco decoration on the sheltered east portal of St. Aubin d’Anger in the Loire

Valley (north central France).

Exterior painted decoration was particularly likely to appear in northern Europe on

painted sculptural decoration placed along cathedral facades. The revival of sculpture during the

early Romanesque period (and the beginning of the Medieval Warm Period) is believed to have

been based on miniature painted decoration, especially in the north where preexisting examples

of Classical sculptures and reliefs were lacking (Demus 6). While sculpture slowly developed

under the Romanesque style, eventually evolving into a sophisticated, three-dimensional rounded

art form, the influence of painted decoration on sculpture can still be seen well into the High

Romanesque period in the two dimensionality of many tympanum or portal figures in north and

central France (such as the west tympanum of St. Lazare in Autun, Burgundy, France) as well as

the swirling drapery seen in figures such as those of the tympanum of the central portal of the

narthex at St. Madeleine in Vezelay (7). Similarly, in imitation of figural representations in wall

frescoes, metal carvings, and manuscript miniatures, sculptures on the interior of churches were

also frequently painted in vibrant colors to provide an emphasis to biblical stories and figures (7).

However, despite the fact that most Romanesque interiors were at least partly painted, and many

major northern churches were provided with painted decoration from top to bottom (on walls,

sculptures, columns, capitals, vaults, and ceilings), 98-99% of interior Romanesque decoration

has been destroyed through wear and tear over the ages (21).

It follows naturally that any exterior architectural and sculptural painting from the

Romanesque period, which was even more exposed to the elements than during the Gothic era,

has largely worn away over the ages, and many art historians have ignored the prospect that

Simmons 62

exterior sculptures were also comprehensively painted until recently (22). However, it seems

logical that many tympanum, portal, and lintel sculptures and reliefs, having been initially

inspired by paintings, were likely painted like interior sculptures to provide visual emphasis

(especially during the early Romanesque period when sculpture and painting were most closely

related). In particular, early Romanesque relief sculpture, such as at St. Genis des Fontaines, was

most likely painted given its strongly flat, two dimensional nature (and the presence of potential

pigmentation at the foot and hands of one of the figures). In addition, paint survives on the relief

sculptures on the south tympanum of Notre Dame du Port in Clermont-Ferrand (central France)

and on sculptural decoration in Donzy-le-Pré, Lavardin, St-Pierre-le-Moutier, St-Benoit, and La

Charité, all in northern and central regions of France. Many other exterior sculptures and reliefs

in later Romanesque styles were likely painted similarly to surviving exterior Romanesque

painting further south at Notre Dame la Grande (Poitiers, western France) and St. Ambrogio in

Milan (northern Italy). The practice of outdoor sculptural painting in transalpine northern Italy

was maintained well into the thirteenth century, as is evidenced by the painted late Romanesque

and Gothic sculptural reliefs on the outdoor cathedral façade of San Marco in Venice (although it

is better protected than most Romanesque facades by a deep portal) (Zuffi 19).

Indeed, the prevalence of Romanesque exterior painting, previously considered rare, is

being more and more debated by art historians. For example, recent research indicates that the

famous statuary at St.-Gilles-du-Gard in Arles, Provence, (southern) France might also have

been painted (Demus 32). However, a closer observation of evidence is needed in order to

provide more evidence of the extent of this medium on church facades. More surviving

Romanesque wall space, particularly near the entrances of churches, should be closely

investigated for traces of pigment or painted decoration, and additional archaeological

Simmons 63

investigations near some churches might reveal the presence of nearby paint chips. In addition, a

close analysis of crevasses in the walls of Romanesque facades and sculptures for surviving

pigmentation might also prove useful in providing additional evidence of exterior Romanesque

wall painting. While the full extent of outdoor decoration in northern churches and cathedrals

will never be determined due to widespread replacement of Romanesque monuments with

Gothic buildings, a better indication of the prevalence of painted decoration and its decline might

provide more clues to the nature of climate change during this period. However, it is safe to

conclude that the vulnerable nature of Romanesque wall and sculpture painting, along with its

suspected prevalence on some northern and central European church exteriors during the

Romanesque period, likely indicates that prevailing conditions were dry enough to support such

decoration.

While exterior painting appears to be largely limited to the Romanesque era, the practice

of painting of exterior sculpture and architecture even survived into the Early Gothic era in some

northern churches and cathedrals. For example, the entire front façade of Wells Cathedrals was

brightly painted by the cathedral’s dedication in 1239 (Chapter of Wells Cathedral 4). The fact

that church walls were being painted into the Thirteenth Century provides an important

indication that the Medieval Warm Period was likely still in full force at this time; cathedral

authorities would not have commissioned the painting of such a large surface (at great expense)

if they believed that rainy weather would quickly destroy it, and thus the climate of southwestern

England (nearest of all locations in England to the North Atlantic Drift-Gulf Stream and Atlantic

ridge) during this period must have been sufficiently warm and dry in order to justify such a

work. Today, of course, little survives of this original painted decoration, indicative of the

climate changes that ensued since the construction of Wells Cathedral.

Simmons 64

As the Gothic style continued to evolve, however, exterior painting was largely

eliminated from church facades. Most major French and English cathedrals from the

Rayonnant/Decorated and Flamboyant/Perpendicular Gothic periods possessed only sculpture or

architectural decoration. While these relatively sudden changes in architectural ornamentation do

not necessarily precisely mirror climate shifts that occurred in the late Thirteenth and Fourteenth

centuries, the end of the medium and it failure to revive even during the Renaissance era when

fashionable Italian aesthetic movements had greater sway and some Italian facades boasted

colourful exterior sculptures and paintings (such as the Duomo in Florence), suggests that

climate change might have literally dampened the revival of exterior painting in the north.

However, in some territories north of the Alps, alternatives to exterior frescos and sculpture/wall

paintings, such as sgrafitto, were developed. Sgrafitto decorations, which were particularly

popular in central Europe (especially Bavaria and Bohemia), were produced by scratching

contour lines into a surface layered in one or multiple colors of wet plaster. The result produced

an effect similar to that of paintings, although the fact that it was etched (rather than painted) into

the wall allowed it to endure the normally deleterious effects of rain and water. Therefore,

sgrafitto can be viewed as an adaptation to the important limitations posed by climate on the art

of exterior wall painting and fresco north of the Alps.

Exterior Mosaics

Mosaics are another important method used to tell stories near the exterior entrances of

churches and cathedrals. This medium was particularly prominent in the south, where a strong

mosaic tradition had evolved in Antiquity and continued to exist well into the High and Late

Middle Ages. Some of the best examples of exterior mosaic decoration are at Santa Maria in

Trastevere (in Rome, Italy), which dates from the Twelfth through Thirteenth centuries

Simmons 65

(Macadam Rome 219). However, similar to fresco and wall paintings, mosaic decoration is

particularly vulnerable to temperature fluctuations and excessively rainy or cold conditions.

Thus, the relatively stable Mediterranean climate provides an optimal environment for exterior

mosaic decoration, while the medium becomes a less viable option for the exterior decoration of

northern Cathedrals for clear climactic reasons.

Nevertheless, mosaics were used in the north during certain parts of the Middle Ages.

Abbe Suger provides evidence that mosaics were, toward the end of the Medieval Warm period,

no longer being used frequently in northern churches and cathedrals; however, his implication

concerning aesthetic trends in art decoration also suggests that before his time they had been a

popular medium in northern Europe. Suger also specifically mentions that he commissioned a

brilliant outdoor mosaic to decorate his new west front, despite the fact that it was “falling out of

style” (Panofsky 63). This may indicate that prevailing weather conditions in the north, while

once supportive of outdoor mosaics, were already beginning to become unfavorable to cathedrals

which supported exterior mosaic decoration (many of which have been lost over time or

destroyed with later construction). However, Suger’s willingness to decorate his own basilica

with mosaics may indicate that conditions were not dire enough in his own time (the early-mid

1100s) to exclude them entirely as a viable medium. By the time the cold and wet weather of the

Great Famine took hold in the early Fourteenth century, such mosaic decoration would have

likely been downright impractical. A few northern churches did maintain mosaic decorations

well into the Little Ice Age, perhaps best exemplified by St. Vitus Cathedral’s Last Judgment

mosaic dating from 1376 (created by Italian artists), although it has become so worn over the

ages that it had to be restored on multiple occasions (Jacobs 190). Therefore, a detailed study of

the history of northern exterior mosaic decoration based on surviving fragments, archaeological

Simmons 66

excavations near portals, and surviving textual evidence could provide important clues about

climate changes during the High Middle Ages. While the presence or lack of mosaics do not

necessarily provide a direct indication of climatic variables at a particular location, broad

geographic changes in mosaic decoration, particularly along borders between areas that were

exposed to the mosaic tradition and adjacent to heavily mosaiced areas during certain periods of

history, may prove crucial in providing clues about climate changes at the end of the

Romanesque period and beginning of the Gothic era.

Exterior Sculpture

Perhaps more prominent than outdoor paintings and mosaics, sculpture evolved into one

of the most important mediums of exterior decoration during the Romanesque era. In the Early

Medieval period, sculpture as an art form by itself had been very rare, primarily for doctrinal

reasons concerning the presence and worship of idols and the uncultivated sculptural traditions

of invaders and migrating cultures from northern Europe and Eurasia. However, the medium saw

a revival during the Romanesque era, and the facades of both great cathedrals and small churches

were often elaborately decorated with sculpted reliefs, lintel screens, tympanums, and jambs

illustrating biblical stories or concepts. Most common were last judgment tympanums, which

decorate the main portal entrances of the churches and cathedrals at Vezelay, Autun, and

Moissac. The sculpture medium was also expressed with a newfound enthusiasm of carved

figural capitals, which came to decorate both interior and exterior columns, and many niches and

blind columns near portals were also carved with scenes representing figures, grotesques, or an

architectural setting.

Climate may also be a factor in the treatment of the sculpted or reliefed façades of

Romanesque and Gothic cathedrals. Wachs indicates that sculptures in the north had to be

Simmons 67

protected from the elements more than those in the south—and this is best represented by the

encompassing protective niche and recessed portal or porch of the Gothic era, which provided

protection to both architectural and sculptural decoration on doors into the church (Wachs 83).

On the other hand, sculptures on major Italian Gothic cathedrals, while sometimes niched

(especially in the Early Renaissance period), were most likely to be exposed to the elements and

relatively unprotected. This can be readily demonstrated by the sculptures hanging off of the

duomos of Siena, Orvieto, and Milan. In addition, the entrances to many Italian Gothic churches

were neither recessed nor porched like portals in the north, providing a strong contrast in concern

for precipitation. In fact, Wachs argues that the portal in the north served to protect the door and

its exterior sculpture from the wearing effects of precipitation (84). Similarly, Wachs conjectures

that the niche, a semi enclosed, canopied space used to hold sculptures, was also used in northern

Europe to provide better protection for sculpted decoration from cathedral facades, while the

niche was often an architectural formality or completely lacking in the south due to a relative

lack of rain (85).

However, while these differences may be true for the Gothic era, during the Romanesque

period the amount of exterior exposure of sculptural decoration was much the same for both

northern and southern Europe. The exterior facades of northern European churches were often

very poorly recessed, sometimes by only a few inches, which would have exposed reliefs and

stone sculptures placed in the doorway to the deleterious effects of precipitation and capillary

attraction. Wachs attributes this to the process of architectural innovation and the fact that

Romanesque walls could only be recessed to the thickness of the wall (which had to be limited)

(85). However, Romanesque architects were certainly able to provide niches or niche-like

protections (such as at St. Trophime and St. Gilles-du-Gard in Arles) and they often did not

Simmons 68

choose to do so. Additionally, some Romanesque churches, primarily those located in southern

France and northern Italy, had developed a method of recessed portal decoration that easily

compares to that of the Gothic era—the triumphal arch façade (Altet 70). Art historians have

largely attributed the use of this arch motif to the influence of Ancient Roman remains in

southern France, and indeed many southern Romanesque facades were closely inspired by the

classicism of the past (as is evidenced by the use of traditional Corinthian columns designs

(rather than Medieval figural capitals) and classical-inspired sculpture). The two churches of St.

Trophime and St-Gilles-du-Gard in Arles probably best represent this kind of Romanesque

classicism, and the exterior portals of these churches, extended beyond the wall itself, is carved

into the form of a relatively deeply recessed arch (70). Several Italian churches, such as at

Modena, Cremona, Piacenza, and Verona, also maintained a deeply recessed, arched portals (70).

Other portals examples similar in design and protection to the above triumphal arch motif can be

seen in the front entrances of St. Pierre in Moissac and, recessed to a lesser extent, St. Foy in

Conques (both in southern France). However, these architectural elements, while providing

better protection for portal sculptures from the elements, were not likely built to protect the

church façade from precipitation, as is evidenced by the high exposure of the lintel screen

sculptures to the rain (at St.-Gilles-du-Gard, St. Trophime, and Modena Cathedral) and the

projection of the lion sculptures at the bases of columns at St. Zeno (Verona), St. Trophime

(Arles), and Modena Cathedral outside of the arch portal. However, most sculpted reliefs and

facades in southern France were unprotected like those in the north, as can be illustrated by St.

Michel d’Aiguilhe in Le Puy (southern France) and Notre Dame du Port in Clermont-Ferrand

(central France). In the latter case, an awning had to be provided at a later time to protect

exposed Gothic sculpture from wearing (Altet 124)

Simmons 69

While classical influences and remnants of ancient triumphal arches were not nearly as

prevalent in the north as in the south, some classical remnants were used on Romanesque facades

(as is evident from the use of classical relief sculptures at Beaujou), indicating some knowledge

of classical ideas (70). In addition, the spreading of architectural ideas from the south to the

north, and vice versa, along pilgrimage routes would have likely transported the idea of a

triumphal arch façade from places like Moissac and Arles to other areas of northern Europe.

However, the recessed arch portal is not seen in the north, where it would have been more likely

needed given the theoretically greater degree of colder weather and more frequent precipitation

in this region. In addition, better protected for northern portals did not develop despite the use of

closed porches further north in Burgundy at the church of Madeleine in Vezelay (north central

France) during the Twelfth Century, built over the central portal to provide better

accommodation for pilgrims (121). Other parts of the façade, however, indicate that the effects

of precipitation did not figure prominently in the construction of the church; for example, the

west and south portals and portal sculptures are poorly recessed and inadequately sheltered. A

porch was also built over the façade of Notre Dame du Puy en Velay, another important

pilgrimage church, for similar reasons in the late Twelfth centuries (well before climate change

would have likely been prevalent in this region of southern France). Therefore, clearly

Romanesque architects in some regions achieved portals and architectural decoration, and the

lack of further portal and façade protection cannot be attributed to an overall lack of

technological prowess or architectural ignorance.

The development of porches and recessed portals in central and southern France,

however, did not seem to have much sway across northern Europe despite their potential

usefulness. The poor portal and sculptural shelter offered in the north throughout the

Simmons 70

Romanesque period is readily demonstrated by poorly recessed portals and unniched sculptures

and reliefs at Anzy-le-Duc, Neuilly-en-Donjon, Foussais, Vouvant, and Donzy-le-Pre in France,

along with St. Mary in Patrickbourne, Kipeck church in Heredforshire, Rochester, and the Lady

Chapel in Glastonbury in England (as well as many other examples on surviving Romanesque

facades throughout northern Europe). In addition, painting was likely added to the sculpture

decorations on some of these churches, and in the example of Donzy-le-Pre, some of this exterior

paint survives on the poorly sheltered tympanum.

In addition, sculptures placed higher up on the facades of churches and cathedrals are

also poorly protected, frequently unniched or placed underneath a thin arch that afforded less

protection from the elements than later methods of sculptural sheltering. For example, the west

front sculptures of Angouleme Cathedral are particularly exposed to the forces of rain and wind,

projecting off the relatively flat sides of the building similar to Italian churches (like Siena

Cathedral). The west front of Notre Dame la Grande in Poitiers looks very similar, with some

additional protection provided by narrow half-circle arches placed over several of the façade

sculptures, but most of the sculptures were left highly exposed (and are now extremely worn). A

closer examination of the wearing of considerably exposed (and unaltered) Romanesque

sculptures might be able to provide more clues about the rates of sculptural dissolution and thus

climate change, especially if the time periods of greatest deterioration can be determined from

examining the sculpture. In general, the lack protection for sculptures on church facades, the

poor recession of portals (when the architectural precedents for deep portal depressions had

already been established in the form of triumphal arches and porches in parts of southern and

central France), the failure to use niche canopies and similar protection for sculptures, and the

use of paint on some of these exposed sculptures, suggests that architects and artists in the north

Simmons 71

were not terribly concerned with the effects of rain on church facades during the Medieval Warm

Period. Similarly, this also suggests that the climate of the Romanesque era was much more

uniform across Europe and relatively mild and dry from southern England to Italy.

However, as noted by Wachs, the coming of the Gothic era provided important changes

in the treatment of architectural portals. At first, the changes were gradual, and during the Early

Gothic era portal recessions on many churches did not deviate significantly from those of the

past. For example, the west front portal of St. Denis Basilica (built in the 1130s and 1140s) is

recessed slightly more than many of the examples given above, but even so its exterior reliefs

(and the jamb sculptures that were also placed here at one point) are relatively highly exposed to

the elements, and indeed, St. Denis’s portal does not appear much more recessed than that of the

Romanesque church of St. George in Normandy. The Royal Portal of Chartres, one of the

highlights of Early Gothic Art (constructed slightly after St. Denis), is also prominently exposed

to the elements (and also the most worn of the portals of this particular cathedral). Additionally,

the sculptures placed on this façade generally lack niche protection. The exterior portals of Notre

Dame de Paris, built in the mid to late 1100s, are somewhat more recessed than St. Denis and

Chartres and notably more so than most Romanesque churches. By the early 1200s the north and

south transept portals of Chartres Cathedral were built, and these are substantially more recessed

than Notre Dame. Although both the north and south transepts possess sculptures that hang

outside on the front of the cathedral, beyond the shelter provided by the porch, much of the

sculptures inside the portals have remained relatively intact due to the protection provided by the

recession of the portal. Additionally, the sculptures on these portals also possess substantial

niche canopies that afford greater protection (but these niches provide relatively little enclosure).

Reims, an Early Rayonnant church, was provided with portals that were deeply recessed and

Simmons 72

sculptures that are substantially niched, and most of sculptural decoration was contained to the

portal protective area or niches rather than hanging out (like seen in Chartres and in Italian

churches). However, some sculptures placed around the exterior of the choir were also unniched.

Amiens and Beauvais constrained sculptures even more carefully to the recessed portal and

designated niches, and by the Late Gothic era sculptures were generally heavily recessed within

portals and protected sometimes, such as at St. Maclou in Rouen, by protective tracery acting as

a canopy over the portal itself. Similarly, St. Stephen’s Cathedral in Vienna contains all of its

sculptures to the recession of the portals. In addition, porches were also occasionally used, such

as at the Late Gothic church of St. Germain l’Auxerrois in Paris, and these serve to protect the

church portal façade and its variety of sculptures (both over the portal and on the porch

columns). In the case of St. Germain l’Auxerrois, all of the sculptures are also niched and given

deep, enclosed recessions in the walls. This contrasts strongly with the unniched portal

sculptures of earlier Gothic churches, such as at the Royal Portal of Chartres and St. Denis, as

well as the limited canopied niches (which were accompanied by canopies only and provided no

protective enclosing) such as those of the north and south transepts of Chartres. In addition, the

evolution of the niche itself from the flat canopy tops of Notre Dame de Paris (St. Anne Portal)

or dome-like canopies provided at Chartres to the pinnacle protected (allowing for better greater

shedding of rain for these thin stone canopy structures) and partially wall-recessed niches of St.

Germain l’Auxerrois and on the exterior of the Vendome chapel of Chartres might also be

significant in terms of the protection afforded to sculpture due to precipitation concerns.

This slow evolution of portal recession and porches and sculpture placement on facades,

along with the development of the niche device, all suggests that through the course of the

Gothic age architects were increasingly taking into account the need to protect sculptures from

Simmons 73

the elements and particularly from the corrosive effects of a damp, rainy (or snowy) climate. The

contrast from St. Germain l’Auxerrois to the Romanesque predecessors of other churches proves

to be rather remarkable. It is therefore not surprising that some Gothic architects would try to

modify the portals over Romanesque portals to provide better protection, as is evidenced by the

west front of St. Stephen’s in Vienna, which maintained a relatively flat and unrecessed sculpted

portal in the Romanesque era which was later covered by an elaborate Gothic porch during the

Late Gothic period. Also notable is the fact that most Gothic exterior sculptures (and probably

throughout much of the Gothic age) were not painted, departing somewhat from the tradition of

the Romanesque period. This might suggest that rainfall had become prevalent enough in the

north by the mid to late 1100s to exclude the viability of painting sculptures, and particularly the

Romanesque sculptures that were heavily exposed to the elements. By the Late Gothic era,

cavernous portals and porches served as protectors for pilgrims, unpainted sculptures, and the

door façade itself, and they also provided their own architectural aesthetic effect.

English facades demonstrate a similar pattern in the development of exterior sculpture

protection during the Gothic era. Wells Cathedral, dating largely from the early 1200s, provides

a prominent example of a relatively unprotected sculpted façade; while sculptures are placed in

relatively enclosed shelters on some parts of the façade (more so than Angouleme, perhaps

reflecting its more northerly climate and the increasingly cold conditions of the Thirteenth

century), in others parts (such as directly above the front doors) they are highly exposed in a

manner nearly equivalent to the Romanesque sculptures of Notre Dame la Grande in Poitiers and

St. Pierre in Angouleme. The high exposure of these sculptures also likely account for some of

their significant wear over the ages compared to the sculptures in the transept portals of Chartres

(which were better protected and are better preserved). Salisbury Cathedral (built slightly later in

Simmons 74

the Decorated Style), on the other hand, corrected some of the protection issues at Wells by

providing relatively enclosed spaces to each sculpture placed on the façade (although these

enclosures are not as well canopied as niches).

However, despite the evolution of the treatment of sculptures, portals, and niches in the

north, southern Europe, and particularly Italy, experienced few of these changes. The duomos of

Orvieto, Siena, and Florence all possess portals that are similarly recessed to Early Gothic and

Late Romanesque portals in the North, maintaining west fronts closer in relation to St. Denis and

the Royal Portal of Chartres than the portals of Reims and Amiens. In addition, these cathedrals

also possess exterior sculpture that hangs off the facades or remains unprotected and relatively

unniched, remarkably demonstrated at the Duomo of Siena. Spanish portals were also less well

protected from the elements, such as the sculptures hanging off the poorly recessed portal

(almost like that of the Royal Portal of Chartres) of the South Transept of Burgos Cathedral

(built in the mid 1200s, at the time of Reims’ deep recession) (Prache 188). Similarly, the poor

recession of the Sixteenth century west portal of Salamanca, which is covered in sculptures, also

reveals that this trend in Mediterranean architecture was sustained throughout the entire Gothic

period (215).

However, in the transalpine northern part of Italy, where weather likely became rainier

due to greater numbers of baroclinic storms, niches and sculpture protection also appeared to be

more important. For example, on the facades of San Marco, many Romanesque-Byzantine reliefs

appear to be relatively well exposed to the elements. The fact that most of this sculpture appears

to be located outside of the protection of the deeply recessed Romanesque portals achieved by

church architects seems to indicate that sculptural protection during this era was not a priority.

By contrast, deeply recessed niches are used to protect all exterior sculpture on the west front of

Simmons 75

the church of later Gothic church Madonna del Orto, and even some of the sculptures added later

to the upper church of San Marco were placed under pinnacled canopies. By the mid-Thirteenth

century, painted sculptural decoration on the exterior façade of the basilica of San Marco was

moved to a more secure location within the recessed portals, perhaps due to the increasing

rainfall and cold weather potentially seen during this era. In addition, sometimes niches were

added in later eras to protect preexisting and exposed sculptures, such as the deeply enclosed

Renaissance niche placed around a Romanesque-era turbaned statue of a Moor (in Campo dei

Mori) (Zuffi 85). However, other parts of northern Italy show less immediate concern for

protecting sculpture, as illustrated by Milan cathedral and the sculptures protruding, fully

exposed to the elements, from the spires and buttresses of the cathedral. Thus, in general, an

analysis of sculptures, portal recession, and niches over time may prove useful in determining

climate type as well as climate variation that occurred in regions during the Early Gothic age.

Windows and Interior Decoration

Windows are another essential feature of church architecture. They provide light that

illuminates the interior decoration of a church, often artistic scenes of biblical stories decorating

the walls, niches, capitals, or on the windows themselves. They also provide safe passage for

churchgoers and pilgrims, and, as Abbé Suger suggests, “luminous windows” and other artworks

express the spiritual essence of the Church and lift believers to the “True Light” (Panofsky 44).

But as the primary means of interior illumination, windows are also important in climate studies

as well, as their size, shape, and glass-type are important in determining the amount of solar

radiation, both direct and diffuse, that can be transmitted into a church. Thus, with this in mind,

window size and other features of windows can be used broadly to characterize certain aspects of

Simmons 76

historical climate and climate change, since the best methods of interior lighting often change

with increasing cloudiness or sunshine as well as with the intensity of the sunshine present.

Window Size and Placement

Extending back into Ancient architectural history, Classical Greek temples, surrounded

by rows of columns necessary to support the low-inclined roof structure, were often poorly lit

and required artificial lighting (usually fire-based). However, architecture evolved through the

Roman period toward the late classical basilican form, perhaps best characterized by the

churches of Santa Sabina in Rome and Sant’Appolinare in Classe and Sant’Appolinare in Nuove

in Ravenna. These basilicas, with their row of windows on their upper clerestory walls, seem

perfect for the Mediterranean environment, with small, high-position windows able to train

intense, direct radiation from the sun into the center of the building. Sant’Appolinare in Nuovo

in Ravenna also has a second row of ground-floor windows on its south side, which, like other

examples in basilican and Romanesque architecture, allows more light to penetrate the building

from the south (where the sun is always located during midday relative to its 40°N latitude),

especially effective for winter lighting (Kleiner 231-237).

Like Classical and Early Medieval basilicas, churches from the Romanesque period also

possessed windows that were often small and placed higher up on the walls of the church (mostly

above eye level) (Wachs 46). Regional variations are readily apparent within the Romanesque

architectural style, with some northern churches, such as St. Georges at St Martin-de-

Boscherville (in Upper Normandy), maintaining window sizes and coverage (in both the upper

and lower levels of the church) far surpassing those seen in the Mediterranean, and some

northern Romanesque German churches near the Cologne region (some built well into the Early

Gothic era of the Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries) also maintained larger window sizes. Such

Simmons 77

factors may be due to the likely cloudier and rainier climate of far northern Europe as a result of

oscillations in the mean northern jet (which would have been likely, especially in the winter), but

on average windows in Romanesque sacred buildings were greatly limited in both size and

coverage.

These small windows, like their classical counterparts, were efficient in providing light to

church interiors under the influence of strong solar radiation. Unfortunately, in order for the

churches built under the Romanesque style to maintain a high ceiling, architects were forced to

construct bulky, thick walls to support the large interior barrel vaults, and these walls could only

support relatively small and scattered windows in a few isolated locations within these buildings.

Therefore, the exact placement of windows within the Romanesque churches was closely

considered by architects during the Central Middle Ages, and the position of these windows can

reveal much about the nature of interior lighting during this period.

For example, most large Romanesque churches and cathedrals built during the

Romanesque era were planned in a more typical symmetrical fashion, with an equal number of

windows on all sides of the cathedral (such as seen in the massive Cathedral of St. Sernin in

Toulouse, France and Santiago della Compostela in Compostela, Spain). However, smaller

country Romanesque churches and a even few larger city churches pushed aside the balance of

symmetry and used window placement strategically in order to ensure the best penetration of

light in a building where opportunities for lighting were limited. Similar to the Mediterranean

architecture of classical and post-classic Rome (such as Early Christian Sant Appolinare in

Nuovo in Ravenna and Romanesque Santa Maria in Cosmedin in Rome), many of these churches

placed the most windows on the southern side of the cathedral, where the sun is almost always

located during midday relative to its northern latitude. For example, Notre Dame du Port in

Simmons 78

Clermont-Ferrand (central France) uses this kind of window placement by putting most lighting

in the southern nave and transept walls (Altet 125). Similarly, Modena cathedral in northern Italy

demonstrates a similar strategic window placement, with the majority of upper and lower level

windows placed on the southern side of the church to provide the best interior lighting (177).

Windows were also prominently used on the west facades and choirs to provide efficient lighting

during the mornings and evenings, with fewer windows placed on the northern nave and

transepts of the building (and those that were placed there were often used for diffuse

illumination of wall frescoes or mosaics). This window arrangement pattern suggests that the

primary lighting for church interiors during the Romanesque period depended largely on the

presence of solar radiation, which in turn indicates that both northern and southern Europe saw

abundant sunshine (or at least enough to provide ample interior lighting) during this period of

architectural history. This makes sense given the northern displacement of the mean jet stream

toward central and northern Scandinavia during the Medieval Warm Period, which would have

provided much of northern, central, and southern Europe a characteristically warm, relatively dry

and sunny Mediterranean climate.

Other evidence of the importance of sunlight in lighting cathedral interiors can be found

in contemporary documents. For example, Honorius of Autun (Burgundy, north-central France),

who wrote on the symbolic meaning of church architecture itself, specifically indicates that solar

radiation was particularly important in church lighting. According to Altet, Honorius indicates

that “the transparent windows, which exclude the storm but allow in the light, are doctors who

fight heresies and spread the light of the Church’s teachings. The glass of the windows through

which the rays of light pass are the thoughts of the doctors, who perceive divine matters as if

through glass” (150). The references to rays of light, along with the stressed importance of

Simmons 79

transparent windows to provide the best lighting possible (with the relatively small window sizes

used in this architectural style), suggests that solar radiation was the dominant consideration in

window construction of these cathedrals. Thus, it makes sense that some northern churches and

cathedrals would be adapted to provide the efficient interior lighting by providing the most

window space to the southern wall, west transept, and choir. However, many churches

(especially in the far north) also likely included as many windows as possible on all walls to take

advantage of any kind of incoming solar radiation, both direct and diffuse, due to the limited

lighting provided by the relatively small window sizes. A more extensive survey of window

placement on northern and southern Romanesque country and city churches would provide a

further illustration of this trend, and similarly an analysis of changes in both window size and

placement through time (for example, along strong climate transition zones like central France)

also may provide important clues about the nature of climate change in a given region.

However, given conditions where only indirect or diffuse lighting prevails (such as under

frequent cloud cover), such strategic window placement becomes less necessary due to the

veiling of direct solar radiation, and the need to allow more light into interiors by expanding

window sizes and the number of windows present turns into the primary architectural concern.

And increasing dependence on diffuse lighting appears to be an important motivation behind

window expansion in the Gothic style, which was born and took its hold best in northern and

central Europe for likely strategic climate-related reasons. The “New Style” of Gothic

architecture itself, as the early Gothic choir of the Basilique de St. Denis illustrates, allowed for

the easy expansion of window size and window coverage along church walls. Accordingly,

during the first century of Gothic architecture windows began taking up more and more of the

total wall space of major churches and cathedrals, and in some cases (such as St. Chapelle de

Simmons 80

Paris) took up nearly all of the wall space. In addition, placement considerations appear to have

been less of an issue, with north and south naves and transepts often covered with windows in a

more symmetric fashion (as seen in the clerestory windows of Notre Dame de Paris) to allow all

available light to enter the building. Diffuse lighting also makes the position of prominent

windows in churches and cathedrals less important; whereas sunlight was often filtered into the

clerestory to provide additional lighting to the interior of Romanesque and Early Gothic

churches, under cloudy or otherwise low light conditions lower level windows were more

effective in bringing in light to the base of the church, and thus quantity and size of lower level

windows began to increase through the Gothic age. Also, windows appeared to expand down the

walls in many cases, with prominent windows during the Early Gothic style maintained in the

clerestory and ever larger windows in later cathedrals placed in the lower or mid levels of the

church. Some windows of later Gothic cathedrals, such as St. Urbaine at Troyes (France),

Gloucester Cathedral (England), and St. Stephen’s Cathedral in Vienna (Austria), cross the

clerestory and descend deeper into the lower levels. By the Perpendicular and Flamboyant

Gothic periods (Fifteenth and Sixteenth Centuries), windows had expanded to take up the

majority of the available wall space, and some art historians even refer to churches and

cathedrals built under these styles as “glass cages” (Janson 318-319). And unlike in Romanesque

churches, little attention seems to have been given to the relative position of the sun in the

Northern Gothic style (with large windows symmetric and expanding on all sides of the church,

indicating the importance of diffuse light). The same pattern of window construction can be seen

in smaller country churches, which began to take on symmetrical window arrangements

(windows covering most of the southern and northern naves) along with adopting the

characteristic larger window sizes and coverage mandated by the Gothic style. While other

Simmons 81

factors, such as architectural innovation, clearly motivated this change in window construction,

and the timing of the expansion of window size and symmetry does not exactly mirror the

climactic paradigm shift experienced during the High Middle Ages, the general expansion of

window size from Romanesque to Gothic appears to reflect not only a desire but also a need for

more interior lighting.

Windows and Other Architectural Features: Flying Buttresses and Triforia

A closer look at the evolution of the triforium level from the Romanesque to Late Gothic

periods provides another important example of these potentially climate-related changes. The

triforium, often provided with a walking passage known as tribune or tribune gallery, was placed

in the middle or upper levels of a church, a convention established in Antiquity and used

frequently in basilicas and early Christian churches. In the Medieval Warm Period, Romanesque

triforia remained a prominent part of many churches and cathedrals; for example, Saint-Etienne

in Vignory (east central France), constructed in 1050, has a triforum level (with windows

confined above it in the clerestory) that dominates the middle third of the nave wall. Some

triforia dominated the clerestory, such as Ste-Foy in Conques and St-Sernin in Toulouse (which

limited window lighting of the nave and suggests that bright sunshine was prevalent enough to

provide interior lighting through the obstructed windows). However, a midlevel triforium was

the most commonly found in the tribune of major churches and cathedrals in the High

Romanesque style. Most of these churches, such as Sankt Cyriakus in Gernrode (Germany) or

Late Romanesque/Early Gothic Malmesbury Abbey, England, possessed triforia smaller than

those at Vignory, Conques, or St-Sernin, suggesting that the tribune gallery at the triforium level

remained an important part of the church during the late Romanesque period but also that

Simmons 82

clerestory and lower level windows were beginning to take on the most prominent position of

church interiors.

Through the Gothic era, the triforium level came to a gradual end with the introduction of

more and larger church windows. In the Early Gothic period, some churches, such as Notre

Dame de Paris and Durham Cathedral, possessed windows at the triforium level concealed

behind the extended gallery (which, as described earlier, limited the amount of lighting received

in the cathedral interior). Slightly later cathedrals built in the early to mid Thirteenth Century,

such as Chartres and Amiens, also maintained a prominent tribune gallery, although it was much

smaller relative to the size of the vaulted arches above the aisles and the clerestory-level

windows (a large contrast to the one-third division seen in early Romanesque triforia at

Vignory). As the Gothic style continued to develop in the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries, the

triforium level was further reduced (as in the case of the very short, narrow, and window-aligned

tribune in the Fifteenth Century basilica of St. Denis) or completely eliminated to allow for more

window space (Jansen 316). This is especially evident in later Gothic churches, such as at Troyes

Cathedral (France) or St. Stephen’s in Vienna, which completely lack triforia. Thus, the gradual

reduction and then elimination of the triforium level during the High and Late Medieval periods,

after its prevalent use in churches for the preceding thousand years, suggests that architects’

desire to provide more lighting to interior cathedrals trumped other conventions and

considerations. The triforium, on the other hand, simply obstructed light and the size of windows

rather than aided in it, and for these reasons it was slowly eliminated. This need for more light, in

turn, may easily be indirectly related to climate changes and the decrease of light associated with

the cloud cover of the northern jet stream shifting slowly southward over Europe.

Simmons 83

Flying buttresses were another significant factor limiting the amount of light entering

church interiors. When spaced close together, such as at Notre Dame de Paris, these features can

serve to shade different windows at certain times of the day, restricting the amount of incoming

radiation (especially during sunny days) (Figure). Because increased lighting was of utmost

importance to Medieval church architects, especially by the Late Gothic period, these features

had to be concealed or restricted in span. While regional-scale trends in flying buttress patterns

are harder to distinguish, and their importance as an exterior features has been previously

discussed, the slow reduction in the grandiosity and size of buttresses, first seen in attempts to

conceal them such as at Chartres Cathedral, resulted in fewer window obstructions on the

exterior facades of cathedrals. And the desire for more light might be directly responsible for the

repositioning of many of these support features. For example, the exterior façade of the Fifteenth

Century St. Denis contrasted with that of Notre Dame de Paris demonstrates these major

architectural changes. While Notre Dame uses large-scale flying buttresses between each

window that extend from the roof level to the ground, Fifteenth century St. Denis uses much

narrower flat projection buttresses extending from the façade of the west transept to support the

crossing vault thrust, and flying buttresses were projected out of the side of the rose to the east

and west to support the transept vault, partially obstructing two clerestory windows but leaving

the lower level windows completely exposed and unobstructed (and the massive rose window

makes up for any loss of lighting in the clerestory). Vertical wall-adjacent buttressing is also

used in St. Stephen’s Cathedral in Vienna (as well as many other churches throughout northern

Europe) to ensure that the large windows stretching from the lower levels to the clerestory are

fully exposed. When flying buttresses were still used in the traditional manner, extending out

from between windows, they were often given a steeper drop angle, such as at Bath Abbey

Simmons 84

(England), or were widely spaced between ever larger windows, such as in St. Maclou (Rouen).

Some flying buttresses, such as those on Westminster Cathedral in London, were stretched from

the clerestory roof to the relatively high aisle roof, thus limiting buttresses to the clerestory level

and allowing better light penetration through the lower level windows. Therefore, the

repositioning of buttress features during the High and Late Medieval period also likely reflects

this desire for additional interior lighting, perhaps related to the decrease in total radiation

received and greater amount of indirect or diffuse radiation that was needed to keep cathedrals

well lit.

Windows, Lighting, and Interior Decoration

Window size, placement, and the intensity of radiation allowed into a church or cathedral

is also closely related to the kind of interior decoration found in sacred buildings. In fact, the

changes in the church aesthetic between the Romanesque and Gothic periods, along with the

evolution of windows, are among the most dramatic ever seen in the history of sacred

architecture (the two types of interiors appear at times completely opposed to each other). In

northern churches in particular, the flat, frescoed walls and ceilings of the Romanesque style

gave way to the vastly dissimilar barren, architecturally carved, often infrequently or completely

unpainted walls and vaults of the Gothic style. While these aesthetic changes are likely related to

gradual artistic evolution and the progression of taste, and they were often slow to occur and not

completed everywhere at the same time or in the same manner (for example, the some Flemish

churches and cathedrals continued to be decorated with wall paintings well into the Gothic and

Renaissance periods), they do indicate a dramatic break in architectural style corresponding to

the increases in window size and broad-scale climate change.

Simmons 85

Interior Mosaics

In particular, the two primary methods of large-scale interior decoration—mosaics and

frescoes—appear to be most closely associated with the amount and type of incoming light from

church windows. Light entering into Early Christian basilican churches through prominent

clerestory windows often reflects and scatters off sparkling mosaics placed in the spandrels (wall

space above supporting columns), which serve to redistribute radiation to other parts of the

church in the form of diffuse light. These midwall mosaics are particularly prominent in the

surviving examples of the Ravenna basilicas as well as in Santa Sabina in Rome. Mosaic

decoration was also prevalent during the Early Christian and Early Medieval periods in Italy,

Byzantium, as well as parts of Northern Europe. In particular, mosaics were popular in northern

Europe during the Carolingian period (700s-800s A.D.), as is evidenced by mosaic decoration

from Charlemagne’s palace and chapel in his capital at Aachen (Aix-la-Chapelle), Germany and

in Germiny-des-Pres near Orleans in northern France (Anthony 152-153). Mosaics were also

likely used in the decorations of Early Medieval churches in Autun, Auxerre, Tours, and several

other locations. While the north did not maintain a strong mosaic tradition at any time in

Medieval history, another period of outgrowth in mosaic decoration took place in the Late

Romanesque style, during the heart of the Medieval Warm Period, in France, Germany, and

Spain (233). Unfortunately, none of these important works have survived (233).

However, despite this late Romanesque passion for the medium, mosaic decoration in the

north slowly fell out of favor by the High Middle Ages. Abbe Suger in his Adventium that

mosaic decoration had already ceased being used in the north during his time, and the lack of

surviving mosaic fragments in the north in early churches also attests to their rarity during the

Age of Cathedrals (with likely much greater prevalence during the Romanesque period in

Simmons 86

cathedrals now replaced by Gothic temples). By contrast, mosaic decoration continued to evolve

and remained popular during the High and Late Middle Ages in Italy and Byzantium (Oakeshott

41), as is evidenced by the comprehensive mosaic programs of St. Marks in Venice, with

decoration dating from the central Middle Ages through the Renaissance, as well as innovations

in mosaic art made by Cavallini in Santa Maria in Trastevere and Torriti in Santa Maria

Maggiore (202-207). Similarly, Greek mosaic programs were maintained in such places as

Daphni and Hosios Loukas in Greece during the High Middle Ages, attesting to the continued

popularity of mosaics in the hierarchical artistic schemes of Byzantine churches. The falling out

of mosaic art in the north can be attributed to a number of factors, including the high cost and

limited availability of mosaic tiles and mosaicists and the option of cheaper fresco decoration.

Italians and Greeks had also maintained a proud mosaic tradition since antiquity, and leftover

remnants this convention were perhaps largely due to these strong Classical influences.

However, the clear latitudinal geographic division between the two types of decoration,

especially after mosaics had become a relatively important medium in the north during the High

to Late Romanesque period, suggests that the monumental new Gothic styles were beginning to

use other means of decoration, perhaps partially because a reduction in direct solar radiation and

an increase diffuse light rendered the actual mosaic medium less brilliant and less effective in

providing interior lighting. Thus, the fact that many Italian and Greek cities maintained the

mosaic art form, while northern artisans abandoned it after a brief revival in the Romanesque

period, suggests that the mosaics acted as an effective medium for the Mediterranean climate in

that they were better able to light interiors receiving frequent direct solar radiation. In the north,

the slow reduction of solar insolation over time made the mosaics, as a medium, a less viable

option for interior decoration. A close analysis of available archaeological and documentary

Simmons 87

evidence would be needed to understand the extent of mosaic use in the north during the

Romanesque period and the exact time of transition between this medium and others.

Interior Frescoes

The evolution of fresco decoration within Northern cathedrals followed a similar pattern.

During the Romanesque Era in Northern Europe, many if not most nave walls and apses, such as

in Canterbury and Winchester Cathedrals in England, were decorated with fresco painting

similar to the Italian/Mediterranean tradition (Altet 170). A Romanesque interior was not

considered complete without frescoes, either figurative or decorative, covering its interior space

(Demus 65). Direct solar radiation coming through small and constrained Romanesque windows

would have been sufficient in illuminating these wall frescoes, which provided churchgoers with

a reinforced visual message concerning key biblical stories. Strong solar insolation filtering

through relatively small windows in the clerestory were also used to illuminate these important

wall frescoes stretched along the opposite nave wall or ceiling, and some Italian Romanesque

churches, such as San Giovanni in Porta Latina in Rome, contain their frescoes to the mid-level

nave and clerestory where they could perhaps be best illuminated by incoming light.

Similarly, in some northern examples, it is clear that the fresco decoration depended

specifically on solar radiation for illumination. For example, at St. Jakob’s church in

Regensburg, northern Germany, a church fresco of an angel is located along a church wall

between two windows and symbol of the sun, which subtly reveals the importance of direct solar

radiation in the illumination of the interior and these wall frescoes. More directly, the placement

of the frescoes at the mid and upper levels of the church, where they can be directly illuminated

by the relatively small clerestory windows (which provide the most prominent light source for

Simmons 88

the interior of the cathedral), reveals the importance of solar radiation in the illumination of the

cathedral.

However, given a Romanesque interior illuminated by diffuse radiation only, wall

frescoes, especially those at the middle and upper levels of the church, become, like mosaics,

less easily readable. Changes in wall painting during the beginning of the climate transition were

likely very subtle and gradual leading up to the final dissolution of fresco medium in the north.

For example, interior frescoes in France were often painted in with low albedo colors, such as

blues, greens, and ochres, during the early and high Romanesque period (Demus 41). In

particular, darker colors in French paintings were more likely to be found in the Central Middle

Ages; for example, at the Chapelle du Chateau des Moines in Berzé-la-Ville, the Abbatiale

Notre-Dame in St-Chef in north central France, and Notre Dame du Puy in southern France.

However, in the late Romanesque and early Gothic era many of these frescoes possessed more

white space, and the primary pigments of interior paintings became red, yellow, gold, and

sometimes light blue in France and Germany (41). In particular, yellow and gold colors would

have provided much more interior lighting than the darker blues, greens, and browns of early

Romanesque paintings. In addition, some churches were painted mostly white, white being a

high albedo color that would have provided better interior reflection of solar radiation to other

parts of the church (or at least produce the aura of interior brightness). The change in fresco

colours to brighter colours (even at a time when church windows were not expanding), could be

indicative of subtle climate change in which church architects and artists were increasingly

becoming concerned with interior lighting and sought to maximize it by providing higher albedo

colours and surfaces to the church interior.

Simmons 89

By contrast, any white painting space was virtually unheard of in the south, and many

frescoes, such as those at St. Clemente (Rome, Italy), Sant’Angelo in Formis in Capua (Calabria,

Italy), and Cavallini’s fresco in St. Cecilia (Rome), possessed primarily dark colors, including

prominent blues and grays in the background (42). Other examples can be seen in the dark-

background frescoes of San Sebastiano in Tivoli (Lazio), San Paolo in Spoleto (Umbria),

Abbazia San Pietro in Valle (Umbria), San Pietro in Tuscania (Tuscany), Oratorio di San

Sebastiano in San Giovanni in Laterano (Rome, Lazio), Basilica Sant’Anastasio in Castel

Sant’Elia di Nepi (Lazio), and Santa Maria in Grotta in Rongolise (Campania). The Italian

frescoes most likely to possess broad areas of white space and lighter colors (such as yellow and

gold) were often painted in the transalpine north during the Late Romanesque period, such as at

Torre San Zeno in Verona and Aquileia Cathedral (dark crypt). Similarly, the most likely regions

to maintain a darker colour Romanesque fresco tradition in France were located in the south, as

is evidenced by the Crucifixion fresco at Notre Dame du Puy, although even this fresco, while

having a dark blue background, maintained a broad surface of brilliant golds and light browns.

Thus, changes in fresco colors over time, while perhaps mostly related to available

pigmentation, individual and patron aesthetic tastes, the desire to provide better contrast for

viewing purposes, and external influences (for example, from the rich colors of Byzantium in the

Near East), on a broader scale may be indirectly connected to the amount of incoming light

available to reach church interiors. Darker colors, such as deep blues and greens, were more

acceptable to southern interiors, where intense and frequent solar radiation illuminated church

interiors and were capable of adequately lighting these dark frescoes (as well as the church

interior), whereas lighter or even shimmering colors (like gold) were better suited at higher

latitudes where sunshine was not as strong or prevalent. Additionally, as the climate in the north

Simmons 90

slowly changed during the Late Romanesque period from a warm, dry Mediterranean climate to

a more temperate climate, fresco decorations appeared to become lighter (with more white-

painted wall space provided) to provide the visible appearance of a brighter interior.

At the very beginning of the Gothic era, wall paintings continued to be an important

interior medium, as suggested by Abbe Suger’s commissioning of a wall painting for his

renovated cathedral at St. Denis. He specifically mentions using brilliant gold colors, which,

although perhaps painted to the Abbe Suger’s extravagant tastes, did probably serve to provide a

brighter interior (Panofsky 86). Climactically speaking, this might indicate that the wall fresco

was still a viable decorative option at this time, the early-mid Twelfth century, before the

Medieval Warm period had come to a close and also before window sizes had expanded to the

extent that they did in later centuries. However, as the Gothic era progressed, larger windows and

their related architectural decoration (which also communicated a spiritual message) were

beginning to take the place of wall frescoes in many churches. By contrast, in southern Europe

the tradition of wall frescoes remained strong through the late Medieval period and the

Renaissance (with prominent examples of High and Late Medieval wall fresco decoration

provided by the duomos of Orvieto and Siena and the basilica of San Francesco in Assisi).

Also, the expansion of windows in and of itself likely required a reduction in wall fresco

decoration. For example, in one-aisled Romanesque churches such as in the Loire Valley, small

windows in the clerestory pierced the fresco decoration and provided direct illumination of these

paintings. Much larger windows at this level would greatly reduce the amount of space available

for large-scale fresco cycles that would be easily visible from the ground. In the case of three-

aisle or multiple aisle churches, the presence of windows closer to the ground required that the

columns and vaults or wall space separating an aisle from the nave be elevated to allow more

Simmons 91

light penetration into the main body of the church. This was accomplished through taller pointed-

arch vaulting and the complete elimination of most of the wall space between aisles and the nave

(and permanent use of columns, often smaller than the bulky columns of the Romanesque style

seen in St. Madeline, Vezelay, France or St. Sernin in Toulouse). The greater size and elevation

of open spaces between the aisles and nave, while allowing more light in the cathedral, also

limited the scope of aisle wall and mid-wall frescoes in the nave. The vaulting, pointed arches,

and columns (and carved tracery) between the aisles and the nave, which defined the edges of

these enlarged openings, in turn provided an architectural aesthetic that filled the artistic void

associated with the loss of interior decoration. Thus, it appears that the rapid expansion of

windows in the Gothic style mandated the reduction in wall painting in many churches at the

aisle, mid-wall, and clerestory levels. Additionally, the continued use of smaller window sizes in

Mediterranean churches, even those built using the Gothic style, allowed Italian churches to

maintain their strong fresco decoration (perhaps best represented by the elaborate fresco cycles

in the Basilica di San Francesco in Assisi).

Stained Glass

The transition from wall frescoes to stained glass to tracery during the Thirteenth and

Fourteenth centuries was very gradual, as was the associated climate change that likely

encouraged some of these changes. As previously discussed, the first notable transformation

connected to the Gothic style was the massive expansion of window space, which had previously

been impossible in the Romanesque style (which mandated thick walls that could only be

penetrated by comparatively small windows in order to maintain the structural stability of the

building). This change in and of itself was gradual, starting with the smaller windows in the choir

of St. Denis, barely larger than some of the larger Romanesque windows being constructed at the

Simmons 92

time in Normandy, and reaching its peak during the Rayonnant Gothic style in the early and mid

Thirteenth century (Amiens, Beauvais, and Chartres), well before the full effects of the Little Ice

Age were felt. While lighting from direct solar radiation was likely decreasing associated with

the slow southward displacement of the mean position of the polar jet, this change would not

likely have been as severe as the dramatic increase in window size seen during this period of

Gothic architectural history. Indeed, nonclimactic considerations likely account for much of the

philosophy surrounding the expansion of window size, such as the popular association of the

lighting of interiors with the “True Light” of God (mentioned specifically by Abbé Suger) along

with the expansion of cathedral size and height (the new architecture, with the invention of flying

buttresses that allowed churches to stretch higher toward the heavens than ever before, created

more wall space that needed to be filled by decorative elements, and large, pointed-arched

windows themselves served to fill the void).

However, another important factor associated with interior lighting was the increased and

widespread use of stained glass, and particularly deep, low transparency colors, such as dark

reds, greens, and blues, in the late Twelfth and Thirteenth centuries. This kind of decoration

became particularly popular in the windows of Northern European churches and cathedrals,

spreading quickly from France into Britain and then to other parts of northern and central

Europe. Even though the stained glass medium had already appeared during the Romanesque

period (usually on larger windows on the west front or choir), it became most prominent in Early

Gothic architecture (starting with St. Denis) and gradually replaced wall frescoes and mosaics as

the primary means of communicating biblical stories. The increased use of stained glass had a

variety of spiritual and philosophical justifications; for example, Abbe Suger believed light

filtered through the colorful stories of the bible to be divine light (Wood). However, the use of

Simmons 93

stained glass also makes sense from a climate change point of view. While wall frescoes and

wall mosaics were poorly illuminated under increasingly cloudy conditions or were done away

with upon the expansion of window space, superimposing similar scenes on the windows

themselves provided a mosaic-like aesthetic substitute that was ensured to tell a visual story

when receiving both direct and diffuse radiation.

The deeper colors of Early Gothic stained glass windows, however, limited the amount of

radiation that could penetrate into cathedral interiors. Thus, it follows naturally that clear glass,

high transparency Romanesque windows actually transmit more radiation into church interiors

than Gothic windows of the same size. Therefore, with a low transparency stained glass medium

in place, window sizes had to be increased more dramatically over time in order to let more light

into church and cathedral interiors. Thus, the smaller size of St. Denis’s windows, and the

prevalent use of low transparency stained glass in them, required that Abbe Suger fill the walls

of his cathedral choir with an abundance of windows in order to provide additional interior

lighting. And the expansion of window size during the Rayonnant period in stained glass

churches and cathedrals also appears less dramatic in terms of their increase in interior lighting

(as with darker stained glass colors, the increase in transmitted radiation would have been rather

small in most cathedrals). This is especially evidenced by the interior lighting of Notre Dame de

Chartres, the only cathedral from this period in history to maintain almost all of its original

stained glass. These windows, which have been dubbed as “Chartres blue” for their deep, dark

indigo colors, have a particularly low average transmissivity, and on cloudy days the interior is

not much lighter than Northern Romanesque cathedrals of a similar size (despite the very large

scale of many of Chartres lower level and clerestory windows). Thus, clearly the widespread use

of stained glass as a new medium of visual communication and splendor mandated the expansion

Simmons 94

of windows in order to provide a greater amount of interior illumination. Also, where stained

glass was less prevalent, such as smaller country or city churches, window sizes were often

smaller as well (Freeman 14, Brabbs 18). Comparative pyranometer measurements taken within

Romanesque and Early Gothic cathedrals with original stained glass on both cloudy and sunny

days might be more helpful in determining the exact amount of increase in solar radiation

maintained by church interiors during the Rayonnant Gothic period.

The construction of Gothic windows, window tracery, and the nature of the stained glass

used in Northern European windows also evolved through the Gothic era. In many cases,

windows continued to increase in size, sometimes taking up much of the interior wall space

(such as at Troyes Cathedral); however, deeper stained glass colors were gradually replaced by

lighter-colored stained glass windows or stained glass windows with larger scenes and more

clear space to allow greater light transmission (Brisac 83). For example, lighter sky blues and

reds were often used, along with abundant light colored glass associated with the skin placed on

figures. In addition, while early and mid Thirteenth century glass colors looks best under solar

radiation (and remain readable but poorly illuminated and provide poor interior lighting during

cloudy conditions), Fourteenth, Fifteenth, and even Sixteenth century stained glass often appears

brightly illuminated during cloudy days as well and provides adequate interior illumination at all

times. This is especially evident in Chartres cathedral when contrasting the darker Thirteenth

Century stained glass windows with the much brighter, higher transmissivity Vendôme Chapel

window (of a similar size as the Early Gothic two lancet windows) dating from the Fifteenth

Century. Similarly, Fourteenth Century stained glass windows in St. Serevin contain larger

figures and scenes surrounded by substantially more clear space than the low transmissivity

panels covered with dark-colored glass from churches such as the Royal Chapel of St. Chapelle

Simmons 95

dating from only a century before. This same kind of pattern is also visible in rose windows

when comparing deeper colored rose windows from the Early Gothic and Rayonnant periods,

such as the North Transept Rose Window of Notre Dame or the three roses of Chartres, with the

much clearer, lighter colored Fourteenth century north rose window of Tours. In some very late

Gothic chapels, such as St. Chapelle du Château de Vincennes, stained glass was limited to a few

windows while others were kept white.

Also, in England the glass evolved to contain more white space, as evidenced by the

stained glass nearly as dark as in Chartres in the Trinity Chapel of Canterbury (the St. Thomas a

Becket window here dates from the Early Gothic period, and it is nearly as dark as the windows

of Chartres, although it has a few more smaller, white individual glass plates to provide more

sunlight than those seen in France). The stained glass from the Fourteenth Century Lady Chapel

of Wells Cathedral is somewhat brighter than the Thomas a Becket window, but the later stained

glass of Westminster Cathedral and neighboring St. Margaret’s church in London are even

brighter and have much more white space. In addition, the massive Golden Window of Wells

Cathedral, which has much more white space and uses abundant, high transparency yellow

colored-glass (during a time when France continued to use a somewhat lower transparency

stained glass—such as in the rose window of Tours), suggests that England was also in the

vanguard in introducing high transparency glass in the early Fourteenth Century. This also makes

sense from a climatic perspective, as the England would have been the first kingdom to come

under the influence of the cloudier jet stream as it moved south at the close of the Medieval

Warm Period. Perpendicular churches from the late Gothic era often have even lighter stained

glass with more white space. And in general, the increase in the translucency of the stained glass,

or an increases in clear space, accompanied by the continued presence of large glass windows

Simmons 96

helped provide even more light into church and cathedral interiors at a time when cooling and a

southward-shifted jet stream likely provided more cloudy days over Northern Europe.

With a reduction of narrative stained glass usage and an increase in clear window space,

something had to provide additional decorative aesthetic, and this is seen as an explosion of new

and elaborate tracery designs in Late Gothic windows. Early Gothic windows, such as those

constructed at St. Denis in the first comprehensive expression of this “New Style,” were

relatively untraceried, with colorful stained glass panels dominating window compositions. In

these early windows, different panel shapes, arrangements, and extremely thin metal divisions

between panels formed the most important elements of window decoration. Similar simplified

tracery designs are seen in Rayonnant windows at St. Chapelle, Tours, and the stained glass

windows of Chartres, with foil tracery being the most elaborate stone decoration and low

transparency stained glass dominating the majority of the available window space. However, as

Gothic windows evolved from Rayonnant to Flamboyant, and as windows were filled with more

white space (or simply kept clear), then more tracery began to be used as a decorative element in

the place of stained glass. Some window designs, such as the West Front window of Southwell

Minster in England, are so heavily traceried that a comprehensive, narrative stained glass

program like those seen at Chartres and other Rayonnant cathedrals could not be possible

(Freeman 109). These kinds of windows were more likely to be decorated with figural stained

glass—with each glass panel space representing one figure, one design, or a large scene--and

often containing lighter colored, more translucent glass (such as light blues or bright reds) or

white space justified through the depiction of figures’ skin (lighter colors were also provided so

that greater drawn dark-colored details in the figures could be more readily seen). The southern

porch rose of Lincoln Cathedral, along with the rose of the Flamboyant church of St. Maclou in

Simmons 97

Rouen also provide prominent examples of late Gothic architecture in which window tracery

becomes the primary decorative element and the stained glass, much lighter in color and

translucent than earlier forms of the medium, takes second place in the decorative scheme. The

lightening of stained glass, the increase in clear space in the windows, and the use of more

elaborate, thin tracery that inhibits comprehensive stained glass programs as seen in earlier

cathedrals and fills the decorative void (without severely reducing incoming solar radiation),

served to allow more light into Gothic churches and cathedrals at a time when interior lighting

relied more on weaker diffuse light underneath cloud cover during the beginning of the Little Ice

Age.

While northern stained glass demonstrates a gradual increase in brightness, first readily

apparent in England at Wells Cathedral and quickly becoming brighter in northern France, Italian

stained glass, however rare (wall frescoes and mosaics were still an climactically optimal and

culturally appealing medium in Italy), showed little signs of brightening during its brief period of

use on the peninsula. In fact, the Fourteenth century stained glass windows of the Basilica of San

Francesco in Assisi, while possessing some white space, has primarily darker colors such as deep

yellows, blue-grays, and even dark reds and browns. Unlike northern stained glass from this time

period, the figures do not expand to take up more panel space (which justifies more white space).

Instead, the colourful individual scenes or figures remain small and paneled much like the

narrative scenes at Chartres (which, in turn, serves to decrease radiation transmittance). This is

also readily apparent when viewing the small scenes of Orvieto Duomo’s Fourteenth century

stained glass east window, which is also broken into small panel scenes in the traditional Early

Gothic sense (Macadam Umbria 249). Siena’s rose window is not broken into small scenes but

does have medium transparency stained glass with blues, reds, and yellows predominating and

Simmons 98

very little white space. Thus, the use of stained glass was much rarer in Italy than in the north,

but when it was used it often maintained glass at low to moderate transmittance into the

Fourteenth century.

Notre Dame de Paris, St. Denis, and Wells Cathedral: A Holistic Analysis of Increased Light Transmission in the North

Although many art and architectural historians argue that larger Gothic windows

naturally resulted from aesthetic, theological, and philosophical trends during the High Middle

Ages. However, along with the architectural possibility of window expansion afforded by the

new style (provided by support innovations like flying buttresses), the prospect that climate

change might have also been a factor in Gothic window design is reflected by the changes in

window arrangement and placement with respect to other architectural features within churches

and cathedrals. Today’s Basilique de St. Denis, built partly in the mid Twelfth Century and

redone in the Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries, provides a perfect example of the contrast

between earlier window size and placement and the treatment of windows during the later Gothic

Era. St. Denis’s choir offers an example of the earliest Gothic style, with relatively small, low

transparency stained glass windows providing the majority of the interior lighting for the

cathedral and the west front covered by Romanesque-like windows strips and a small oculus.

Another early gothic construction, Notre Dame de Paris, further illustrates this trend—

relatively limited windows (especially compared to later cathedrals) were placed high in the

clerestory. Another level of windows was provided in the triforium of Notre Dame; however, the

presence of a wide tribune gallery level served to limit the lighting efficiency of windows

positioned behind them. A few windows were also placed in the lower nave, some likely

expanded during a later renovation of this part of the cathedral. However, these windows are

Simmons 99

generally smaller in size and sparser in coverage than the lower-level windows of later Gothic

cathedrals, and like most later Italian Gothic churches, the majority of lighting was provided by

windows in the clerestory. In addition, the low transparency stained glass that filled them during

the Medieval period (most of which no longer exists today) would have served to further

attenuate incoming radiation. In addition, at certain times of the day the exterior flying

buttresses, essential for maintaining the high vaults of the cathedral, limited the effectiveness of

certain windows lying between them, especially at both the upper and lower levels of the

southern ambulatory. All of these factors—the relatively smaller window size and limited

window space (compared to many Rayonnant and Late Gothic Cathedrals), an extended

triforium, sparser windows in the lower nave ground level, low transparency stained glass, and

closely-spaced flying buttresses, all served to limit the amount of incoming radiation in Early

Gothic cathedrals such as Notre Dame de Paris (Bond 529). Therefore, while lighting

considerations were likely very important in the construction of Notre Dame (perhaps similar to

those of Norman churches like St. Georges), lighting was clearly not as significant of an issue as

in later periods. This makes climactic sense, as Notre Dame’s construction was begun in the

Medieval Warm Period and largely completed during the early stages of the gradual transition

period to the Little Ice Age.

The dramatic increase in window size and space is perhaps best seen when contrasting

the choir and west façade of St. Denis with the rest of the church, where windows take up nearly

all of the available wall space in the clerestory and transepts. A triforium level is present in St.

Denis; however, it is kept very narrow in both height and width, and windows behind it are lined

up closely with the nearby openings in the triforium arches to ensure maximum transmission of

light into the basilica interior. A similar treatment to the triforium level was used in the

Simmons 100

construction of the choir of Cologne Cathedral in the Fourteenth Century. In other cathedrals

constructed during the late Gothic period, the elimination of the triforium level and the

expansion of some windows from the clerestory to the lower levels of the church served to

provide even greater lighting.

The gradual increase in window size throughout this era, especially visible in English

cathedrals from Early Gothic to Perpendicular styles, also illustrates this trend. The nave and

west front of Wells Cathedral (southern England), constructed in the early to mid Thirteenth

century, provides an important example of an Early English Gothic Cathedral. The windows of

the west front, like those of Notre Dame de Paris and St. Denis, are much more limited in size

and coverage than later Gothic cathedrals. In addition, while lower level windows are used in

Wells Cathedral, like in Notre Dame they are fewer and less significant than the clerestory

windows in providing interior lighting. The Quire of Wells Cathedral, constructed largely in the

early-mid Fourteenth century, already demonstrates the increasing window sizes of Later Gothic

styles during the Little Ice Age. The windows are nearly two times larger, and the Lady Chapel

and southern ambulatory provides substantially larger lower level windows that add to the

interior lighting of the church. As the Gothic style continued to be developed in England, larger

and larger windows began to take over the walls and facades of churches and cathedrals, starting

from northern England and working southward. For example, Ripon Cathedral in northern

England, which would have come under the influence of colder and cloudier weather

substantially sooner than southern part of the kingdom, was built around the same time as Wells

(1220-1250), yet its west façade, with its abundance of large and long windows, contrasts starkly

with Wells Cathedral’s front (which has, by comparison, much less window space). However,

window space on the west fronts and nave walls of southern English cathedrals expanded

Simmons 101

dramatically by the Fourteenth Century, as the west front of Winchester Cathedral illustrates, and

the perpendicular Gothic style of the Fifteenth and Sixteenth centuries used particularly large

windows, well represented by Henry VII’s Chapel in Westminster Abbey in London. In addition,

these perpendicular windows were also covered in abundant white space, with stained glass used

most frequently to display isolated figures or coats of arms (as seen in surviving examples in

York Cathedral). Thus, the progression of window designs and styles within a specific region, or

even within the same church over the centuries, illustrate architects’ increasing desire to modify

their constructions for the purpose of providing more interior lighting at a time when climate

change was likely substantially decreasing the amount of radiation entering cathedrals.

Regional Comparison of Window Sizes

Italian vs. Northern Windows

The effects of the amount and intensity of direct solar radiation on the architectural

placement and form of church windows can also be relatively easily demonstrated when

churches from the same architectural style are contrasted from region to region, such as

comparing Italian Gothic windows with their northern European counterparts. Much of central

and southern Italy was far enough south during the Middle Ages to maintain a relatively

consistent Mediterranean climate, with prolonged periods of sunshine under the influence of the

subtropical high and Atlantic oceanic ridge (especially pronounced during the warm season from

spring to fall). In addition, the Mediterranean Basin is closer to the equator than northern Europe

and sees more intense radiation and sun angles closer to perpendicular with the surface. Thus,

with extended periods of intense sunshine being the primary source of cathedral illumination,

windows had to be strategically placed to best direct solar rays coming into the cathedral

Simmons 102

windows at relatively high angles. In order to do this, windows in Italian Gothic cathedrals and

churches were placed higher up in the cathedral walls, well above human eye level and often

maintained only in the clerestory. For example, much of the interior lighting in the Cathedral of

Santa Maria del Fiore in Florence comes from small circular windows in the dome (these serves

to light much of the transept and apsidial choir, which only have very small windows on their

upper dome walls) and slender windows that begin near the clerestory level in the nave (with no

lower level windows as seen in Northern Gothic cathedrals). In addition, the Gothic windows in

Florence’s cathedral are narrow, small, and take up less wall space than most windows seen in

northern Gothic cathedrals on the same scale, perhaps also due to strong solar lighting in the

Mediterranean environment.

The Gothic Orvieto Duomo has two layers of windows: one at the clerestory level and

another at the ground level, but as in the case of the Florentine cathedral, the windows are

relatively small and narrow and claim less wall space compared to Gothic windows being

constructed in Northern Europe at the time. And the Gothic nave windows at Siena Cathedral,

while larger than those in the previous examples, are relegated to the clerestory level and still

maintain less wall space than northern Gothic structures. In some Italian Gothic cathedrals (such

as Santa Croce, Florence) significant lighting was also introduced into the cathedral interior by

slightly longer or larger windows placed in the mid to upper-levels of the choir, which allows

adequate direct lighting during the low sun angles of sunrise and important diffuse lighting of the

cathedral during other times of the day when the most intense sunlight is directed through

smaller windows in the nave. Thus, on average, Mediterranean Gothic windows are significantly

smaller and provide less wall space, likely due to the greater amount of incoming solar radiation

compared to Northern Europe. Massive windows such as those seen in many Late Gothic

Simmons 103

Northern Churches would have been inappropriate for the sunny, intense radiation of the

Mediterranean climate and would have likely provided too much lighting to an Italian church.

Northern Italy

Northern Italian churches, on the other hand, tend to be equipped with larger windows

than churches on the rest of the peninsula. For example, Venetian churches such as Santa Maria

Gloriosa dei Frari possesses very large windows in the choir (although part of this effect is

negated with a large choir screen). In addition, the large Gothic church of San Giovanni e Paolo,

also in Venice, maintains almost northern-style windows on its southern side—especially evident

in the transept chapel. This may be because of the transalpine, less strongly Mediterranean,

climate of this region close to the Alps and the baroclinic storms that form during colder times of

the year. Milan Cathedral also possesses some particularly large Flamboyant windows, although

Milan was also heavily constructed by a German architect (and thus outside influences become a

major factor). However, larger windows were likely needed in Milan during the Little Ice Age to

counter the effects of the greater number of baroclinic storms in this region with a southward

displaced jet in the winter. Santa Maria della Grazie, another Gothic church in Milan, possesses a

significant number of substantially-sized windows on its west front and nave and appears to

substantiate this transalpine northern Italian trend for slightly larger windows and more window

space than the rest of Italy.

Spain

Much of Spain (except the north) did not maintain a strong Christian Romanesque style

during the central Middle Ages, as most of this territory lay under Saracen rule and Islamic-style

architecture was most prominent. Thus, when the Reconquista made strides in capturing Muslim

Spanish lands in the Gothic era, architects building new cathedrals in the wake of the Christian

Simmons 104

crusade employed the style of the day—Gothic—rather than the old Mediterranean-suited

Romanesque style. With Christian sacred architecture being relatively new to this part of Europe

(especially southern Spain), architects were less likely to make strong climate-related

adjustments at first, and thus one must be cautious when making direct connections between

climate and sacred architecture on parts of the Iberian peninsula. In addition, other influences,

such as that of the French from the north, who brought architectural ideas into Spain through the

pilgrimage route to Santiago della Compostela, likely strongly affected the styles and method of

construction associated with Spanish Gothic Cathedrals.

For example, Leon Cathedral, a prominent example of the Gothic style in Spain and, as a

northern church, heavily influenced by French architectural standards, has three particularly

larger rose windows that are rarely seen in other parts of Mediterranean (Street 138). However,

these are masked in low transparency stained glass that make them more palatable to southern

sunshine. Larger windows were used in the construction of the rest of the church, probably in

imitation of northern Rayonnant French Cathedrals, and according to Street, author of Gothic

Architecture in Spain,

“This cathedral is a mere lantern, it has scarcely a wall of plain, unpierced wall anywhere, and the main thought of its architect must have been how he might increase to the utmost extent the size of windows, and the space of glorious glass with which he contrived to fill the church. No greater fault could have been committed in such a climate. This lavish indulgence in windows would have been excessive even in England, and must have always been insupportable in Spain. Spanish artists… always wisely reduced their windows to the smallest possible dimensions” (142).

However, despite the limitations associated with outside influences, some Mediterranean

adjustments to window sizes can be seen in many Spanish churches, as Street suggests, that were

constructed by local architects and artisans. For example, Barcelona’s monastery of Santa Maria

de Pedables has numerous windows, but these are confined primarily to the clerestory like Italian

Simmons 105

Gothic churches. Gerona cathedral, constructed in the early 1300s at a time when the large

window style of the north had reached full maturity, similarly only possesses very small

windows in the clerestory (it was overseen by Mediterranean architects) (93). Late Gothic era

Pamplona cathedral also maintains most of its relatively scattered windows (especially compared

to northern churches) at the clerestory level and possesses only a small rose/oculus typical of

southern churches. Therefore, clearly a large number of Gothic churches built in Spain, while

perhaps adopting some of the French windows traditions (especially in the north along the old

pilgrimage route from France to Compostela), maintained a distinctly Mediterranean tradition

that reflected the ongoing warm and dry climate that appeared to remain strong from the

Romanesque to Late Gothic period.

Regional Stylistic Variations: The Importance of Outside Influences

As the example of Spain suggests, clearly neighboring regions and outside influences can

have an important impact on sacred architecture style in a specific location, which then becomes

an important consideration that must be dealt with when trying to use architecture to determine

climate. The influence of architecture also becomes particularly important when foreign political

groups from a vastly different climates rule and patronize art and architecture in a distant land.

Some rulers, such as the Norman Kings of Sicily, adopted local techniques and art forms (which

is illustrated by the strong Islamic and southern influences and the use of Byzantine mosaic

artists at Monreale and the Cappella Palatina as well as other Sicilian Norman architectural

works). Others, such as the Provencal Angevin rulers of southern Italy, transplanted their own

style to their exterior territory.

Simmons 106

For example, outside the major Tuscan metropolitan centers and the Transalpine north of

Italy, Gothic was more prevalent in areas of Italy that were in close contact with the French or

under French control, and these areas were often more likely to see more French influences in

their architecture. For instance, only one Gothic church was built in Rome, a city that avoided

direct French influence for much of its history. However, in Naples, where the French

maintained control during the Thirteenth and early Fourteenth centuries, several important

Gothic churches were constructed in the French style under Angevin rule, among them surviving

today are the churches of San Domenico Maggiore, Santa Maria Donnaregina, and San Lorenzo

Maggiore (Blanchard 135). San Lorenzo Maggiore (which has been one of the least subsequently

altered of the three listed above), built by an unknown French architect under Angevin rule in the

Thirteenth century, has narrow Gothic windows that start nearly one-third of the height of the

church above the floor and extend into the upper nave walls. Like many Italian Gothic churches,

San Lorenzo Maggiore’s windows do not take up a large amount of wall space and are primarily

confined to the clerestory (this may be due to southern Provencal French influences in the

church’s construction); however, they are longer than many Italian windows, and the windows in

the west end of the church, like many French cathedrals, claim almost all of the choir and create

an overwhelming interior brightness that is usually avoided in most Italian Gothic churches.

Similarly, Santa Chiara in Naples shows a mix of styles: it possesses a small, heavily traceried

rose window like most in churches in Italy; however, it also maintains very large and long

windows extending from the clerestory to the lower nave between its vertical wall-adjacent

buttresses (like churches in parts of France and similar to the windows seen in Our Lady of the

Snows and Our Lady before Tyn in Prague). Thus, the French Angevin rulers of Naples clearly

left their own mark on the city of Naples and its architecture.

Simmons 107

Similarly, the Abbey of Fossanova south of Rome has strikingly large windows, in

particular a very large west front rose window (without thick tracery) that seems very French and

significantly out of place in Italy. In fact, the structure was built for the Cistercians, who adopted

the French Burgundian style (from central to north central France) for their monasteries and

brought the architectural mode to Italy, thus providing for the larger rose window that would be

more characteristic of a northern church or cathedral than an abbey in southern Italy (92).

Because Burgundy lay on the transition zone between the Mediterranean and northern climates at

the time of construction (the Thirteenth century) as it does today, the style exhibits both

Mediterranean and northern climactic adaptations. Thus, the churches of Naples and the Abbey

of Fossanova clearly illustrate that cultural, religious (monastic), and political factors, along with

artistic diffusion, play important roles in regions directly influenced by northern European

countries and must be taken into account when analyzing southern church styles and their

potential climactic indications.

The Specific Case of Rose Windows: A Regional Comparison

Regional comparisons of rose window sizes and designs also provide an important

illustration of the architectural differences linked to differential climates. Rose windows serve as

extraordinarily efficient sources of light for church interiors, and many Medieval church

architects used the rose window design to introduce light and aesthetic decoration into their

constructions. In addition, rose windows have essentially the same placement in most gothic

churches: at the transepts or the west entrance (main portal) of the church, allowing for easy

comparison from church to church. Rose windows are common in Italian Gothic churches but

are also often very small compared to the massive rose windows of France’s Gothic buildings.

Both major Italian cathedrals (such as Orvieto, Florence, and Siena) and smaller churches (for

Simmons 108

example, Santa Chiara in Assisi, Santa Chiara in Orvieto, and the church of San Francesco in

Palermo) built in the Gothic style possess these characteristically small rose windows. Also

unlike northern rose windows, Italian roses and oculi are also very thickly traceried, which

further serves to limit the amount of light that can penetrate them. Similarly, in Spain, Majorca

Cathedral possesses a particularly large rose window, but it is so thickly traceried so as to

provide a very limited transmittance of light. In contrast to many Italian and southern rose

windows, Siena’s central oculus is particularly large (7 meters in diameter) and possesses

virtually no tracery (Kleiner 217). However, it is still smaller in diameter than many late Gothic

windows of the same caliber in northern Europe, and the presence of medium to low

transparency stained glass in the window, placed there at a time when rose and other stained

glass windows in Northern Europe possessed more translucent glass or “white space,” provides

the decreased transmittance expected in a southern Gothic cathedral.

As the Medieval Warm period came to a close and the average position of the jet stream

shifted south, new rose windows in Northern Europe seemed to take up more wall space, were

surrounded by more and larger lancets and standard Gothic windows so that they became less

distinct features of the overall architectural aesthetic, or were provided with more translucent or

nearly transparent glass (contrasting with solid-colour early Gothic windows). The first

completed rose window, the oculus at St. Denis, has an estimated size and design (based on

remaining fragments) that more closely resembles those of Italian Gothic churches. While the

gradual growth of rose windows from the mid 1100s to late 1200s may be primarily due to

changing aesthetic tastes, a trend toward increasing flamboyancy, and better technical handling

and skill of the rose window designs by architects, the fact that less light was needed in the

prevailing sunny conditions supported the development of smaller oculi during the Early Gothic

Simmons 109

and Late Romanesque periods (these smaller circular windows could have been easily replaced

by more standard sized windows to allow more interior lighting). Rose windows are also

generally placed in the upper clerestory (as in Italian churches) at the beginning of the Gothic era

and gradually descended down the façade of the church or cathedral facades as they expanded in

the Thirteenth century (the use of lancets or larger framing windows also helped in this

expansion). Examples of this progression of rose window placement can be seen in the

comparative placement of the oculus of St. Denis (comparable to Italian Gothic roses) to the

larger South Transept Rose of Notre Dame de Paris (which is accompanied by a smaller rose

window at the roof level and a much larger rose below it).

Stone window tracery thickness (and proportion of the total window design) also

decreased with time to allow more glass space. For example, the first oculus at St. Denis is

believed to have had thick stone tracery (Bruzelius 47). Similarly, the western rose window of

Chartres, constructed in the early 1200s, although having a diameter of 15 meters that makes it

one of the largest rose windows in existence, also contains significant stone tracery separation of

individual components (making it a less effective provider of light than later larger Rayonnant

rose windows—along with its low transparency stained glass) (Favier 76). In addition, with the

increasing window acreage of the Rayonnant and Flamboyant Gothic architectural styles, the

rose window was accompanied by ever-longer or larger clerestory windows and lancets (the

name given to the thin, numerous windows placed underneath rose windows) in the thirteenth

and fourteenth centuries, providing additional illumination to make up for any lighting needs not

addressed by the rose window itself. This is perhaps best exemplified by the numerous lancet

windows at St. Denis and underneath the large rose window at Beauvais Cathedral.

Simmons 110

By contrast, the rose windows on the facades of major Italian Gothic churches remained

relatively unaccompanied by other sources of lighting and are rarely associated with lancets like

Northern cathedrals. For example, the Florentine Duomo’s west rose window (small by

comparison to their northern rose windows on the same type of façade and placed an entire level

above the portal but like the oculus built on the façade of the Twelfth Century St. Denis) is only

accompanied by two lesser and widely spaced oculi, in stark contrast to the transept rose

windows of the late Medieval reconstruction of the northern French basilica of St. Denis. With

its unusually large circular window opening providing plenty of light, the Cathedral of Siena

completely lacks any other windows on its west front. Similarly, Orvieto’s relatively small and

thickly traceried west façade rose window is unaccompanied by any other windows, and lesser

churches like Santa Chiara at Assisi, Santa Chiara in Naples, and San Francesco in Palermo

similarly have no lancets or other windows to accompany their nave roses. Because lancets and

directly adjacent clerestory windows provided an important source interior lighting that is

altogether lacking in southern churches and cathedrals, it can only be assumed that native Italian

architects shunned the complex, large, and well-accompanied window styles of the north in favor

of smaller, thickly traceried windows that would provide an optimal amount of light given the

prevailing intense and frequent sunshine.

A transition zone between the small, thickly traceried rose windows of southern Italy and

the large, less thickly traceried, and large circumference windows of the transalpine north can

also be seen. As already established, southern cathedrals possess very small rose windows.

However, the cathedral of Modena, located in the Po Valley near Venice, provides an excellent

example of a larger rose window with more glass space. The rose window on the west front of

San Zeno Maggiore is similarly large and has relatively little tracery, thus providing for greater

Simmons 111

interior lighting in an environment that likely sees more rain and baroclinic storms, especially in

the Little Ice Age when the jet stream had shifted significantly south from its average location.

Also, later Gothic northern rose windows were often integrated into more complex

designs that are lacking in the south. For example, the rose windows of Beauvais and Amiens

were placed inside even larger Gothic windows, and the north rose was placed within a square

window and accompanied by multiple lancet windows, which provides even more light to the

interior of a cathedral than a rose window of the same diameter. In many cases, these roses

within larger windows provided even more window space and opportunity for interior lighting

than simpler circular rose windows of the Early Gothic era. In addition, they also provide an

opportunity to bring light entering roses in the clerestory level closer to the ground by providing

an expanded space for light penetration. Thus, northern cathedrals not only expanded window

sizes beyond those of the south, they also used a variety of techniques, such as placing rose

windows within larger windows, multiplying the lancet window coverage, and surrounding rose

windows with adjacent large clerestory windows, in order to provide more lighting into cathedral

interiors at a time when strong solar radiation was less common. Thus, the evolution of rose

windows in the north, when contrasted with the consistently small oculi of the south, provides

another example of the increasing importance of light in northern church and cathedrals during

the Gothic age and the lack of concern about light in the Mediterranean basin.

Romanesque vs. Gothic: A Regional Analysis in France

As has been established in the previous chapters, churches of the Medieval Warm Period

possessed architectural features, such as small windows, low roof inclinations, and exposed

portals/sculpture, that were adapted to warmer, drier, sunnier weather. These features, however,

also characterized the Romanesque style for most of Europe, which remained prevalent during

Simmons 112

the Central Middle Ages. The Gothic style evolved in Northern Europe as the Medieval Warm

Period waned, although with its windows constrained to the clerestory, large triforium, and low

transparency stained glass, the changes were not initially dramatic. However, as the Thirteenth

century arrived, the Gothic style began to take on a more distinct tone in the north, with greater

verticality, larger windows, and protection added to wall sculptures better able to suit the

changing climate at hand. In the south, the Gothic and Romanesque styles readily mixed, and the

front Gothic facades remained relatively indistinct and were eventually replaced by Renaissance

Classical-style architecture. The north, on the other hand, continued to evolve its Gothic

architecture well into the Renaissance era. These trends seem to suggest that the north’s climate

was changing, with the Gothic style serving to provide better protection against the elements,

while the south’s climate remained largely unchanged and thus did not require any dramatic

modifications in shelter type. Thus, it would make sense that the south would not need to convert

to Gothic as readily as the north, and that even many southern regions would keep their

Romanesque churches or build more sacred buildings in the Romanesque style.

The geographic mapping of all major surviving religious Romanesque monuments and

ruins provided by Pauline de la Malène in her Atlas de la France Romane offers a

comprehensive view of the distribution and density of churches built during central Middle Ages.

This atlas allows the geographical historian to obtain a good idea of what factors were

influencing church architecture construction during the heart of the Medieval Warm Period. Only

churches and cloisters with surviving Romanesque elements are mapped, and those sacred

buildings completely gothicized or rebuilt in later centuries with no surviving Romanesque

architecture are not mapped. This allows the reader to analyze only those churches that were

kept. There are clearly some errors when using this method to judge the landscape of

Simmons 113

Romanesque France, as churches destroyed during major conflicts or major economic

restructuring are not as likely to appear as those existing in largely rural regions that escaped

many of the ravages or war. This would particularly influence the number of Romanesque

churches mapped in northern France, the historic industrial heartland of France as well as the

location of battlegrounds associated with major world wars. Additionally, major towns and urban

areas would have had a high density of Romanesque churches during the Middle Ages, but this is

no longer reflected in the data due to urban restructuring and replacement with later styles

(Gothic, Baroque, etc). This fact is perhaps best illustrated by the presence of only one important

Romanesque monument in Paris itself (St Julien le Pauvre). In fact, northern France was heavily

gothicized during the twelfth through sixteenth centuries, most notably by Louis XII (patron of

St. Chapelle de Paris) in the thirteenth century, while France’s southern territories, along with

Italy, retained many of their Romanesque-style churches. These regional differences in

architecture were likely driven by a number of factors, including politics and warfare, differential

wealth (urban vs. rural), pilgrimage routes and changes in their popularity between the

Romanesque and Gothic eras, and climate change.

The Atlas de la France Romane also reveals the existence of a cluster of Romanesque

churches in Normandy, hugging the Baie de la Seine and especially grouped around Caen and Le

Havre. Many of these monuments are associated with the Romanesque building spree launched

by the powerful Dukes of Normandy, although most of these churches have been altered since

their original construction (many due to later gothicization and warfare). The Normans similarly

sponsored an explosion of Romanesque sacred architecture in Britain, where between 1066 and

1154 the number of churches rose from 60 to 500 (Brooks 73). Thus, cultural and political

factors seem to be a major factor in the high density of Romanesque churches in this part of

Simmons 114

France as the Norman dukes sought to consolidate their power over the region. However, many

of the Norman churches in England were either partially or completely rebuilt in later centuries

during the Gothic period, perhaps due to that style’s increasing adaptation to the northern

climate. However, the cluster of surviving Norman churches in France (when so many Norman

churches built in England became gothicized) might be partly related to the activities of the

Hundred Years’ War between England and France in the latter half of the Gothic age (which was

fought mostly on French soil and likely disrupted some churches from Gothicizing in affected

areas of France). However, the failure to alter these churches is also perhaps due to the Norman

churches’ greater verticality of Norman Romanesque roofs and spires (which likely required only

minor Gothic modifications in later eras, indicating that the vertical Norman style was more

appropriate to northern France but still was eventually inadequate in England).

Another important cluster of Romanesque architecture in today’s northern France is

located on a thin strip, from Longwy to Isches, along the Moselle River, a major trading route

during the Middle Ages which provided access to the important commercial cities of Flanders.

This area continues to be an important urban region of France, encompassing important cities

like Metz, Nancy, and Neuchateau, with the greatest number of Romanesque churches located in

the countryside around these important urban centers. Again, a rural setting seems to be

important in determining the preservation of Romanesque churches, probably due to their small

revenue inflow (which limited the ability of these churches to afford a complete reconstruct of

their church or the adoption of the latest styles in sacred architecture seen in the major towns,

cities, and ecclesiastical centers). In addition, the very traditional and conservative mindset often

attributed to the Medieval peasantry could also been a force in preserving rural churches,

although this is much harder to prove. In addition, city churches were more likely to adopt other

Simmons 115

trendier architectural styles (due to substantially greater revenues), and some minor urban

churches were undoubtedly swept away as most of the urban environment replaced itself in the

800-1000 years following the construction of most Romanesque churches. The vast majority of

both rural and urban Romanesque churches around the Moselle Valley, however, have been

altered, perhaps due to the greater population density and commerce through the region

(resulting in greater wealth and more opportunities for changes) and also due to damage caused

by recent major wars (most notably World Wars I and II) that devastated this region.

Also, cultural factors and diffusion were also likely important factors affecting the

prevalence of Romanesque churches in this region. Western German architects, surrounded by a

profusion of pre-Romanesque and Romanesque churches dating from the important political

reigns (which expressed their influence and power in the region through the patronage of

churches), tended to perfect the Romanesque style in the mid to late 1100s and even into the

early 1200s before converting decisively to Gothic (unlike northern France and England, which

took up Gothic almost immediately after its invention). This delay in the prevalence of the

Gothic style in Germany might also be related to the slow change in climate occurring in the mid

to late 1200s over Germany, during which time glaciers in the Alps began growing again,

indicating a slow cooling trend that likely lead to a more southerly-positioned polar jet and a

slow increase in rain and snow across the region. During the Central Middle Ages, the Moselle

Valley was more closely geographically and politically associated with the western German

states due to its position on a tributary on the Rhine than with developments within the French

territories, and the prevalence of Romanesque churches around Metz and Nancy might be at least

in part a result of the outgrowth of Romanesque in the German lands that preceded the

widespread adoption of Gothic.

Simmons 116

The relative absence of Romanesque churches around Ile de France and, in general,

northern France, has been attributed to many factors. Some note that the Romanesque era was

particularly violent for the Parisian basin, with existing churches and structures frequently swept

away by Viking and Norman invasions (Tilley 300). On the other hand, the Gothic era was

relatively prosperous and peaceful for this region; the kings of the Ile de France gained power

and territory during this period, and the comparatively stable political climate allowed for a

flourishing of architecture and contributed to the mentality of constructing long-lasting religious

monuments. However, while frequent pillages and invasions might have resulted in the relative

lack of permanent monuments from the period, a safer assumption is that many if not the vast

majority of churches were reconstructed in the new Gothic style sometime between the mid

1100s and the late 1500s (when various styles of Gothic were prominent across northern France)

or reconstructed during or after the Renaissance. King Louis XII himself sponsored the

construction or reconstruction of over 1,500 churches in the Ile de France region, including such

precious sacred buildings as Sainte Chapelle and Chartres (Fagan 19). While the Gothic style

developed and became widely accepted throughout Europe as a part of broad cultural and

aesthetic trends, its prevalence in some places (northern France, Flanders, Germany, and Great

Britain) over others (southern France and Italy) probably also reflects climatological adaptations

to the colder, rainier weather that came to northern Europe at the close of the Medieval warm

period.

In fact, most of France’s surviving Romanesque churches and cathedrals are clustered in

the southern half or two thirds of France, which has a very high density of Romanesque churches

compared to the north. This is likely due to a number of factors, such as pilgrimage traffic

(which was greatest through southern France during the agriculturally stable Medieval Warm

Simmons 117

Period). However, climactic factors also might play a role. For example, cathedrals in

southernmost France, as in Mediterranean Italy, were more likely to be constructed or

reconstructed in the Romanesque style in the Thirteenth century, well after the Gothic style had

been introduced (331). In fact, much like in Italy, the Gothic style never really took off in

southern and western France (under the Atlantic ridge and Mediterranean influences) as it did in

northern and eastern France. Additionally, some far south locations transitioned straight from the

Romanesque style to the Classical Mediterranean Renaissance style, skipping Gothic altogether

(331). Another important feature of the Atlas de la France Romane is that it appears to show that

the fluctuations in Romanesque and Gothic (that is, the geographic line between the

Romanesque-predominant region and the area dominated by Gothic/lacking Romanesque) seem

to follow the Mediterranean-Temperate climactic boundary line. A closer GIS analysis of the

prevalence in each style for particular time periods might be even more helpful in determining

the fluctuations in this Mediterranean-Temperate line during the transition from the Medieval

Warm Period to the Little Ice Age. In general, the proliferation of Romanesque churches in

southern France (accompanying a general lack of Gothic), along with the shortage of

Romanesque churches in the north (a region which possesses the most Gothic churches of

anywhere in the world) seems to indicate a clear regional climactic pattern. This analysis has

also, however, revealed a lot of the nonclimactic factors that also likely determines the

prevalence of the Gothic or Romanesque style.

Conclusions

In closing, many of the architectural features, styles, and innovations of the Romanesque

and Gothic eras, including sculptures, paintings, mosaics, large windows, buttresses, apses, and

niches, appear to reflect climate changes occurring during the Medieval period. In the north,

Simmons 118

poorly recessed portals and low roofed towers of the Romanesque and early Gothic eras gave

way to the vertical towers and spires, high inclined roofs, and large windows of the Late Gothic

Era. In the south, architectural styles, while experiencing substantial aesthetic shifts through the

Renaissance era related to painting and sculpture, never deviated far from the low inclined roof,

small windowed, flat towered, and outwardly painted and sculpted architectural facades of

Classical models (and indeed, many southern churches from the Romanesque, Baroque, and

Renaissance periods are directly inspired by Classical examples and new interpretations of

Classical Mediterranean architecture).

The adaptations discussed above seem to reveal a pattern very similar to that seen in ice

core samples, tree ring data, and other historical climate-determining methods. The Romanesque

period gave way to the Gothic era during the Medieval Warm Period, although the initial

changes in Gothic architecture were not pronounced enough to indicate that this aesthetic change

was at first a climactic one. But the Thirteenth centuries proved to be a time of rapid architectural

transition (mirroring more closely the ice core data), with the recession of portals and niches, an

increase in roof and spire inclination, a conversion to flat roof tiles, the protection of decorative

elements, a change in the evolution of flying buttresses, and the appearance of gargoyles and

drainage systems all suggesting that the weather was becoming cold and more precipitation was

occurring by the Rayonnant Gothic period (early-mid to mid 1200s). The changes during the

Thirteenth century appeared to come in from east to west, with German Romanesque church

becoming rather vertical by the early Thirteenth century (which churches in southeast England,

such as Wells, were still being painted on the exterior and had relatively low inclination roofs

like Burgundian churches). In addition, the transition of all of Europe to colder weather

continued to be apparent through the evolution of greater and greater window sizes in northern

Simmons 119

Europe during the Fourteenth century, with higher transmissivity stained glass replacing the low

transmissivity kind of the Thirteenth century. Spires and roof inclinations also became more

vertical during this period, and these often culminated in cathedrals like St. Stephen’s in Vienna

in the Fifteenth century (with a very steep roof and spire). During the Flamboyant/Perpendicular

period, architecture moderated from its Fourteenth century extremes to a certain extent, perhaps

due to a gradual increase in temperatures ahead of the dip of the Sporer Minimum or also

perhaps due to less precipitation located to the north of the jet stream. The Gothic style, while

not originally and significant climactic separation from the Romanesque style in its early stage,

eventually evolved to become one, which promoted gothicization efforts. Where Gothic was

adopted in the south, it often closely followed the Romanesque style from centuries before due to

less climactic need for the protective extremes seen in large windowed, vertical northern Gothic

Cathedrals.

Thus, with the adaptations provided by the Gothic style to the northern climate of the

Little Ice Age, it does not seem surprising that many areas of Northern France, Flanders, and

England razed their Romanesque churches and cathedrals in order to adopt the new style in the

Thirteenth and Fourteenth centuries. Similarly, much of northern Europe was slow to abandon

the Gothic style, even after Renaissance ideas concerning art and architecture had spread to the

north. In fact, looking beyond the Medieval period, varying degrees of Gothic were used in the

construction of chapels and churches throughout the Renaissance and Baroque eras in England,

as is perhaps best exemplified by structures such as the Gothic Lincoln Inn Chapel built in 1619-

1623 (Woodley 147). With this fact in mind, it also does not seem surprising that England played

the “key role” in enthusiastically heralding the Gothic Revival of the Nineteenth century, during

which many buildings in London and throughout other parts of northern Europe were rebuilt in

Simmons 120

the Gothic style (Jansen 699). Similarly, it seems natural that Italy would be the source of the

classical revival of the Renaissance, and throughout much of post-Classic Italian history the

peninsula, and indeed most of the Mediterranean basin, maintained the small window, low

roofed Classical-derived styles that also prevailed during the Renaissance and Baroque eras.

Thus, in broad terms, architectural styles and climate appear to be closely related, and further,

more detailed regional studies focusing on one or more of the architectural elements featured in

this paper may provide even better clues about the nature of the relationship between architecture

and climate change as well as reveal important information about past climates on a regional or

even a local scale. And the great changes that occurred in architecture, if more strongly linked to

climactic variations during the Medieval period, could provide us with vital clues concerning the

direct social and environmental consequences of a simple 1°C deviation in temperature, a

consideration we must take seriously in our own Modern Warm Period.

Works Cited

Altet, Xavier. The Romanesque: Towns, Cathedrals, and Monasteries. Cologne: Taschen,

2001.

Baum, Julius. German Cathedrals. London: Thames and Hudson, 1956.

Blanchard, Paul. Blue Guide to Southern Italy. 10 ed. London: A&C Black, 2004.

Brabbs, Derry. English Country Churches. New York: Viking, 1985.

Brisac, Catherine. One Thousand Years of Stained Glass. Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1986.

Brooks, Christopher. Europe in the Central Middle Ages—962-1154. New York: Holt,

Rinehart and Winston, 1964.

Bruzelius, Caroline Astrid. The Thirteenth Century Abbey at St. Denis. New Haven:

Yale: University Press, 1985.

Chapter of Wells Cathedral. The Pitkin Guide to Wells Cathedral. Jarrold Publishing.

Clemen, Paul. Gothishe Kathedralen in Frankreich. Zurich: Atlantis Verlag.

De la Malene, Pauline. Atlas de la France Romane. Paris: Zodiaque,1995.

Fagan, Brian. The Little Ice Age: How Climate Made History 1300 - 1850. New York: Basic

Books, 2000.

Favier, Jean. The World of Chartres. London: Thames and Hudson, 1990.

Freeman, Edward A. An Essay on the Origin and Development of Window Tracery in

England. Oxford: Parker, 1933.

Jacobs, Michael. Blue Guide to Prague. London: W. W. Norton, 1999.

Janson, H.W. and Anthony E. Janson. History of Art. 6 ed. New York: Harry N. Abrams.,

2001.

Kleiner, Fred S. and Christin J. Mamiya. Gardner’s Art Through the Ages: A Western

Perspective. New York: Thompson, 2006.

Lauderie, Emmanuel le Roy. Times of Feast, Times of Famine: A History of Climate Since

the Year 1000. Toronto: Doubleday, 1971.

Macadam, Alta. Blue Guide to Umbria. 4 ed. London: A&C Black, 2003.

Macadam, Alta. Blue Guide to Venice. 7 ed. London: A&C Black, 2001.

Murray, Stephen. The Building of Troyes Cathedral: Late Gothic Campaigns. Bloomington:

Indiana University Press, 1987.

Oakeshott, Walter. The Mosaics of Rome from the Third to Fourteenth Centuries. Greenwich,

Conn.: New York Graphic Society, 1967.

Panofsky, Erwin, ed. Abbot Suger on the Abbey Church of St.-Denis and its Art

Treasures. Princeton, N.J. : Princeton University Press, 1979.

Parker, Geoffrey and Lesley Smith, eds. The General Crisis of the Seventeenth Century. 2nd

ed. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1997.

Pevsner, Nikolaus and Priscilla Metcalf. The Cathedrals of England. New York: Viking,

1985.

Platt, Colin. The Architecture of Medieval Britain: A Social History. New Haven: Yale,

1990.

Postan, M. M. Essays on Medieval Agriculture and General Problems of the Medieval Economy.

Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1973.

Prache, Anne. Cathedrals of Europe. Ithaca: Cornell, 1999.

Simson, Otto George. 3 ed. The Gothic cathedral : Origins of Gothic Architecture and the

Medieval Concept of Order. Princeton : Princeton University Press, 1988.

Sloboda, Martin. Bratislava. Bratislava: MS Agency, 2003.

Stoll, Robert. Architecture and Sculpture in Early Britain: Celtic, Saxon, and Norman.

New York: Viking, 1967.

Street, George Edmund. Some Account of Gothic Architecture in Spain. New York:

Benjamin Blom, 1969.

Swaan, Wim. The Gothic Cathedral. New York: Park Lane, 1984. \

Tilley, Arthur, ed. Medieval France: A Companion to French Studies. New York: Hafner, 1964.

Wachs, William Carl. Historical Geography of Medieval Church Architecture. 3 ed.

Thesis. University of Cincinnati, 1964.

Wood, Michael. Art of the Western World. Video. 1986

Woodley, Roger. Blue Guide to London. 17 ed. London: A&C Black, 2002.

Zophy, Jonathan W. A Short History of Renaissance and Reformation Europe: Dances Over Fire

and Water. 3 ed. New York: Prentice Hall, 2002.

Zuffi, Stefano, ed. Art in Venice. Milan: Leonardo Arte, 1999.