<\/p>
Windows are too often treated as merely providers of light, ventilation and views. But there is little more terrifying than a dark window with an unknown face peering in. And there are few more useful places for covert entrances and exits, as prime minister Stanley Baldwin found in December 1936. Pursued by the press, he finally crept into Buckingham Palace<\/a> through a back window, to talk with King Edward VIII<\/a> about his forthcoming abdication announcement.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n \u201cThe history of architecture is also the history of windows,\u201d pronounced Le Corbusier, a pioneer of modernist architecture. As we shall see through the following seven examples, the history of windows is also the history of war, politics, technology, aesthetics and morality. Not simply \u201cthe eyes of the house\u201d, windows open up connections between architecture and socio-cultural change, from international conflict to the welfare state.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n To see how windows changed history, look no further than Chepstow Castle. One of the first stone castles in Britain, it was built from 1067, a reward from William the Conqueror<\/a> to his follower, William Fitz Osbern. Its role as a stronghold on the Welsh banks of the Wye was vital, a symbol of the conquering Normans and a defence against the Welsh.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n Its fortifications remained poor until around 1190, when William Marshal<\/a>, Earl of Pembroke, strengthened them. He introduced the arrow slits \u2013 which, as openings in the walls that allow those inside to look out, and of course fire arrows through, can be regarded as fitting windows for castle towers. The Chepstow Castle arrow slits are some of the earliest in medieval conflict architecture.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n These adaptable forms of defence had somehow been forgotten for centuries. Although they may have been the Egyptians\u2019 invention more than 4,000 years ago, historian Polybius claimed that Archimedes of ancient Greece<\/a> had invented them in the third century BC, during the siege of Syracuse.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n Chepstow\u2019s arrow slits vary in height, width and shape. Long straight slits complemented the long bow, while those with short horizontal slits across them also suited the crossbow. The opening (or embrasure) widened within, giving bowmen an extended, but protected, field of view. These slits were seen as innovative at the time and well-designed for their purpose, since the attacker was unable to shoot an arrow through the narrow slit, and the defender had unlimited time to observe and take aim.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n Defence was a priority, so the arrow slits were also aimed at the outer bailey, within the castle\u2019s walls.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n In later medieval times, the addition of an elegant Great Hall, with richly decorated windows overlooking the Wye, gave good light for comfortable reading on cushioned seats.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n The great east window at Gloucester Cathedral is said to have been the largest in the world when it was installed, in the 1350s. When the sun shone through this tennis court-sized structure, its luminous colours, symbolising the divine light of heaven, stunned pilgrims approaching Edward II<\/a>\u2019s tomb.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n The window encompasses the English medieval world view of a hierarchical society, as the layers ascend from noblemen\u2019s shields to clergymen and kings. Above these are the saints, apostles and angels, with the Virgin Mary and Christ as the centrepiece. As a symbol of secular and sacred authority, it would have awed a largely illiterate society, but perhaps as impressive was its craftsmanship and technology.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n Created from thousands of pieces of glass set in lead, the window is a fine example of French Abbot Suger\u2019s conception of stained glass representing \u201cheavenly light\u201d in religious architecture. Various metal oxides and other ingredients such as urine produced the richly coloured glass. Such a huge window required not only Gothic building technology, but also complex stone tracery to support it.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n Not only does the hierarchy of power ascend to God, but it also descends to the royal heraldry below, its meaning clear in the alternative name of the Cr\u00e9cy Window. Worshippers walking down the nave would have seen the lower layer of emblems belonging to noblemen who had fought in the Cr\u00e9cy campaign, when English troops had stormed to victory over France in 1346. This great victory, viewed as a sign of divine favour, was an ideal opportunity to assert the authority of the crown under Edward III following Edward II\u2019s unstable reign.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n The window\u2019s symbolism, affirming the king\u2019s divine right and England\u2019s power, would not have been lost on the pilgrims to Edward II\u2019s tomb. Medieval cosmology might have centred on religious belief, but this was intertwined with the national political consciousness.<\/p>\n Listen: Cultural sociologist Rachel Hurdley peers into the curious history of windows, on this episode of the HistoryExtra<\/em> podcast<\/a>:<\/strong><\/p>\n<\/div>\nOn the defensive<\/h3>\n<\/div>
Basking in heavenly light<\/h3>\n<\/div>