Hell in the 14e arrondissement

In 1785, the Cemetery of the Innocents in the area of Les Halles became a public health menace; shallow and inadequate graves were causing disease among the living, and it was decided that the best thing to do was relocate the remains en masse. Thus began the transfer of bones from the Innocents and several other “overstocked” Paris cemeteries – carts were brought out and priests processed with the disinterred remains chanting the last rites as more than six million sets of exhumed human bones were marched to Les Catacombes. Upon reaching the former rock quarry, the bones were deposited, and the Paris Catacombs were born. Les Catacombes was soon being called Place d’Enfer, which translates to “Hell Square.” These days, it’s Place Denfert-Rochereau.

Upon the insistence of a friend of mine, I decided to check out the 14th arrondissement of hell, and a mere two euros fifty bought me passage down. And down, and down, and down. The Catacombs sit below the metro, below the water pipes of the city aboveground, and below the sewer system. Reaching the ground floor involves a set of nail-bitingly steep circular stairs that follow an interminable circular procession 100 feet downward that induce dizziness and not an insignificant amount of second thoughts. The final steps, however, spit you out into a brightly lit antechamber with large historical placards posted; this juxtaposition is met with an entirely unconventional mix of relief and disappointment in the soft visage of the expected hell.

Never fear – or perhaps begin to fear? – the creepiness sets in soon thereafter, as the ossement begins with a large sign saying “Arrete! C’est ici l’empire de la mort.” It ain’t “abandon all hope,” but I suppose it’ll do. Once beyond this passageway, you see the bones. Millions upon millions of them, sometimes with the skulls arranged in interesting shapes by 18th century undertakers who apparently had nothing more fun to do.

Alas, poor Yorick. I knew him well.

After about a mile’s walk below the city, and more bones than I have ever wanted to see or planned on seeing in my lifetime, I hopped on Virgil’s back and we climbed past Judas, Brutus and Cassius back up a corkscrew staircase and onto the next chapter in the divine comedy of Paris.