“In this same year” (1144), writes Robert Du Mont, “at Chartre men began to harness themselves to carts laden with stones, wood and other things, and drag them to the site of the church, the towers of which were then a-building.” Says Abbé Haimon: “Who has ever seen or heard in all the ages of the past that kings, princes and lords, mighty in their generation, swollen with riches and honor, that men and women, I say, of noble birth, have bowed their haughty necks to the yoke and harnessed themselves to carts like beasts of burden, and drawn them laden with wine, corn, oil, stone or wood and other things needful for the maintenance of life or the construction of the church, even to the doors of the asylum of Christ.” “Mighty are the works of the Lord,” exclaims Hugh of Rouen (ready to use the example). “At Chartres men have begun, in all humility, to drag carts and vehicles of all sorts to aid the building of the cathedral, and their humility has been rewarded by miracles. The fame of these events has been heard everywhere and at last roused this Normandy of ours. Our countrymen, therefore, after receiving our blessing, have set out for that place and then fulfilled their vows. They return with the resolution to imitate these Chartrians, and a great number of the faithful of our diocese and the dioceses of our province have begun to work at the Cathedral, their Mother.” But since it is the spirit that makes the action fine, the services of these builders were accepted only under the triple condition of confession, penitence and reconciliation with their enemies; they delivered their offerings in tears, while disciplining themselves with blows. George Eliot speaks of a common feeling of good-will among a mass of men affecting her like music; to such music the incomparable tower of Chartres was built, and a later age sees tears transformed to pearls when another great fire destroyed the old part of the cathedral, and they had, in rebuilding, to live up to their splendid new façade. [Illustration: _A Page from the Sculptured “Bible of the Laity,” Chartres._] The cardinal assembled the people of Chartres around the smoking ruins of their dear old church and persuaded them to forget their personal losses and to think only of rebuilding the House of God; and the people, united by the strongest of bonds, a common disaster, arose again to work for the common good, and again Christians from far and near sent in their donations. The old chroniclers say that the very Holy Virgin multiplied her miracles. One of them we still have before us. It was then and there that an architect, whose name is forgotten but whose genius is immortal, perfected the cathedral type of thirteenth century Gothic. All designers of Gothic churches still do him homage; all lovers of Gothic architecture still sing his praise.