Lore

Episode 141: Stains

File name: Aaron Mahnke and Grim & Mild – Episode 141: Stains

File Details: 34:00:00

Number of speakers: 1 (Narrator)

START OF TRANSCRIPT

They had no idea it was down there. There had been rumors of course, but they were the sorts of stories that were too difficult to believe. But in the spring of 1984, one distraught phone call kicked off an amazing discovery. A local team of firefighters was dispatched to the Pont Neuf bridge in Paris to verify claims of something monstrous and otherworldly in the water. I can’t blame them really; the caller had claimed creature was over three feet long with vicious looking fangs and a tail that whipped about. Hearing about something like that in the middle of Paris must have been frightening. Hemander Godard and his crew however, found nothing in the River Seine. They even inspected the area around the bridge but still - nothing. That’s when they decided to look someplace else; someplace most people tend to forget about, the sewers. And when they did, they walked straight into the monster’s layer. But this monster turned out to be something less than supernatural. Was it unexpected? Absolutely. But it was a creature that just about everyone in the world has seen before, a crocodile. Thankfully, they were able to capture it without anyone getting hurt, and it was later taken away to the Paris zoo. In doing so, these firefighters also illustrated a powerful point. No matter where you might live, beneath the city you know - is a whole other world. A world of secrets and dangerous legends. And that even though we might carry on our normal lives in relative safety, the past is always lurking just below the surface. Like the shadow of a monstrous creature. And what better place to dig for the lost and forgotten than Paris, the City of Light. Because where there’s light, there is also a whole lot of shadow.

I’m Aaron Mahnke, and this is Lore.

It was over before it even began, in 259 B.C a Celtic tribe called the Parisii settled on the banks of the river Seine. Two centuries later, the Romans came and killed them all. Of course it was a lot more nuance than that, yes the Romans washed over them like a tidal wave but the settlement the Celts had built there was burned by their own hands rather than allow the Romans to take it. But that didn’t stop them from taking the location and soon enough the Roman city of Lutetia was growing alongside the river. Over the centuries, the name of the city changed a few more times Lutecia eventually became Parisius and then finally Paris around the fourth century. And of course, those years were filled with many stories. One of the most popular from the time though is that of Saint Denis, a Christian martyr from the third century. It’s said that Dennis refused to renounce his faith and was beheaded for his crime against the empire. But somehow against logic and the laws of biology, the executed man bent down, picked up his own head and then walked several miles north of the city preaching the entire way. When his body finally fell to the ground he was buried in that very spot. A spot that is now the location of a grand Basilica built in his honor. Now look, there’s absolutely no way I can cover the entire history of the city of Paris in a brief span of time. Entire books have been written on just small portions of that history and each of them is full of a tremendous amount of detail, drama and a complicated list of rulers and cultures. So, think of my brief survey of it all as more of an appetizer and if you love what you taste, go read some books. But at the heart of all of that complexity is the city. The location and people and countless lives that have lived and been lost in this one specific place, lives that have acted like instruments in an ongoing symphony. Playing a song of not just strength and beauty, but also tragedy and pain. After all, when a city has been around as long as Paris has - there’s no end to the stories it might collect.

Many of those stories though are filled with death. 1337 saw the beginning of the hundred years war. And then a decade later when Paris was the most populous city in all of Europe, the Bubonic plague arrived on her doorstep. Between disease and war, it’s estimated that two thirds of the city’s population was lost. But the death toll, would keep rising over the coming centuries. During the sixteenth century the rift created by the protestant reformation led to more deaths in Paris. In France, the protestants were known as Huguenots and they were violently attacked by Catholics for what was perceived as heresy. Then on August 24^th of 1572, things erupted. Thousands of Huguenots had gathered in Paris just days earlier for the wedding of King Charles the 9^th’s sister Margaret and her protestant husband. Seizing the opportunity, Catholic mobs rose up and killed every protestant they could find, sending waves of violence out into the countryside like an earthquake. When it was all over several weeks later, it’s estimated that upwards of thirty thousand people had been killed. Thankfully, the late 17^th century ushered in a bright spot with the advent of the Enlightenment. Writers like Voltaire and Russo made people stop and think and brought social causes to the forefront of public conversation. But that sort of intellectual revolution was too powerful to contain and by the late 1780’s it was fueling an actual uprising in the streets of Paris. What followed was a lightning round of political upheaval, the bastille was stormed in July of 1789 and within four years King Louis the 16^th had been executed. Then between 1793 and 1794, France saw the reign of terror. During which close to eighteen thousand people were executed by guillotine. Between that and the Napoleonic wars, it’s estimated that close to seven million people lost their lives. In 1871 there was the socialist uprising known as the Paris Commune who took control of the city for ten days. By the time the French army put the rebellion down, close to seven thousand lives had been lost. And then in 1940 Nazi Germany began an occupation of France that lasted over four years. Resulting in even more deaths in Paris. And if you’re exhausted after walking through all that tragedy, I can’t blame you. Countless dead, lives torn apart by religion and politics, waves of disease and warfare; it sounds so overwhelming. Even if most of it is buried deep in the past partly because of how complicated it all is yes, but also because it serves to remind us of how temporary and tenuous our peaceful lives can be. But all of that darkness serves as a sort of foundation to the present. A city can’t endure that much death without it leaving a stain, a dark mark that can still be seen today. And if you know where to look, Paris is a treasure trove of unsettling tales. To explore them though, we need to follow the dead. Because if there’s one thing Paris has an abundance of, it’s graves. And if the stories are true; the dead still hold their sway.

It’s easy to think of Paris as a city for tourists; The Eiffel tower, the River Seine and Notre dame are magnets for visitors. And they’re all are charming and beautiful as the books tell us. But two centuries ago, Paris wanted to attract another sort of clientele - the dead. To understand why we need to slip backward in time to the year 1804; that was when the Pere Lachaise Cemetery was established outside the Eastern edge of the city. Paris was growing and becoming more and more crowded and so the city government felt it was better to move future burials outside the city. But there was just one problem, the people of that era preferred to be buried inside the city. It was fashionable, and as we all know Paris has long been a city where fashion takes priority. So, the city government got creative. If the people of Paris weren’t attracted to the location perhaps, they’d be drawn to the neighbors. In 1804 after opening to lackluster interests the folks in charge of the place arranged to have some famous remains transferred to the cemetery. The first to make the trip were the bodies of Jean De La Fontaine and Moliere two famous French poets. A few years later it was the remains of Abelard and Heloise, a pair of legendary lovers that had captured the public’s Imagination for centuries. And it worked, the more long dead celebrities they moved to the cemetery, the more attractive the place became for future customers. The people of Paris began to set aside their preference for burial within city limits in exchange for an eternity in close proximity to greatness. Over the years though, the city itself expanded as major cities always do. And eventually the Pere Lachaise Cemetery found itself incorporated into Paris after all. Today you can find the graves of nearly and endless list of significant personalities, Gertrude Stein, Oscar Wilde and legendary composer Chopin. But if the stories are true, visitors can see more than gravestones. Jim Morrison’s ghostly figure has been spotted walking through the cemetery upon occasion, as has visions of Marcel Proust. It’s not clear whether they’re looking for a way out or just taking a stroll to enjoy the view.

But the Pere Lachaise Cemetery isn’t the only place in Paris where the dead are connected to tourism and fame. Another location in the city has just as much power of attraction, but it’s a lot more complicated and difficult to explore. Plus, its full of millions of human bones. So, it’s not exactly for the feint of heart. What most people don’t know about Paris is that it has a long history with mining. As the city was growing there was a never-ending hunger for building material so people would dig down to the limestone and extract what they needed. But keep in mind, when this was happening in the thirteenth century Paris was much smaller and people weren’t necessarily thinking long-term. Some historians view those early days of mining as a sort of do it yourself enterprise. If someone owned a bit of land and needed a quick buck they could just dig straight down and start cutting limestone. But all you need to do is look at a modern map of Paris to know how bad that could be. Because today, all of those mines are right beneath the city. That became a problem in the latter part of the 1700’s. In fact, in 1772 one abandoned tunnel collapsed from the weight above it, taking an entire house with it. So, King Lois the 16^th set up a service called the Inspection of Mines, a government agency of sorts that was tasked with exploring these mines to asses the dangers they posed. And then something happened that kicked off a historic change. On May 31 of 1780 the wall of a building collapsed, but it wasn’t due to the mines below. It was actually a mass grave next door, just beneath the surface that had de-stabilized the earth causing the wall to give way. And so, for the rest of the year burials inside of the city were put on hold until they could find a solution. It turns out that the man in charge of that cemetery problem, Alexander Lenoir was also in charge of the inspection of mines. And he looked at both challenges set before him and had a sort of chocolate and peanut-butter moment. “What if the solution,” he suggested, “was to put them together.”. So that’s what he did. His team of engineers went throughout the mines and reinforced them with stonework to help support the city above and in the process, they were also preparing that endless network of tunnels for new occupants. When they were ready, the remains of more than six million dead were transferred below. And just like that, the infamous catacombs of Paris were born. Of course, a place like that has a way of attracting attention. Today, public tours are offered to portions of the catacombs. Although much of the tunnels are still off limits. But that hasn’t stopped people from trying their luck. In fact, an entire culture has grown up around exploring them and those people who participate are referred to as ‘Cataphiles’. Don’t let the popularity fool you though, the Catacombs aren’t entirely safe. In fact, within a decade of their creation at least one person disappeared inside them. His name was Philibert Aspairt and he worked as a doorman at the Val-de-Grace Hospital. But on November 3^rd of 1793, the sixty-two-year-old man went missing. Because his post was near one of the entrances to the Catacombs many people assumed that he had wandered down to have a look. It was a rather new addition to the city after all and I wouldn’t blame the man for wanting to take a peek. Others have speculated that Aspairt believed the tunnels below could lead him to a nearby brewery where he might be able to steal some beer but there’s no proof that’s the case. Whatever the attraction was, he stepped inside and was never heard from again. It would be another eleven years before anyone would discover what had become of the lost doorman. In the spring of 1804, someone new ventured into the same part of the Catacombs and stumbled upon the remains of someone in the middle of the tunnel. It was Aspairt, he had apparently lost his way and then lost his lights before finally passing away on the cold stone floor. Alone, in the dark. But for as horrifying as that might sound, it’s made all the more worse by the irony of where his body was discovered. Just a few feet away, from the stairs to the surface.

When you think of Paris there’s a good chance you might think of pastries. Although, if we’re honest I probably think about pastries more than most but that’s beside the point. Paris, as city and a culture has a long history with tasty treats of all shapes and sizes. Back in the early fourteen hundreds a patisserie once stood on the corner of the Rue Des Marmousets and the Rue De Duerme. But before you go looking for them on a map, those street names have changed over the centuries. And after you hear the story I’m about to tell you, you’ll hopefully understand why. It’s said that this particular patisserie was located in a busy neighborhood. Paris has always been a bustling, growing place so it’s easy to imagine. Even back in the fourteen twenties, just how crowded and alive the place must have felt. Dirt streets littered with refuse, the constant murmur of conversation and shouts from merchants. All of it would’ve created a rich tapestry for our story. Next door to the Patisserie was a barber shop, the sort you might expect to find in that era. These shops performed a few of the duties you might still find today like shaving and trimming but they were also a place for those with medical needs. Herbal medicine, ointments, even primitive dental work like having your teeth pulled; all of it could be found at the local barber shop. Which sounds perfect right? You could swing in, and have a little bloodletting done and then go next door to the crowded patisserie for a pick me up and you wouldn’t be alone either. It’s said that this particular shop was so popular that priests and monks from Notre Dame would regularly visit for a bite to eat. Even King Charles the 6^th was known to be a fan of their delicious meat pies. And it turns out that the men who ran those shops, the barber shop and the patisserie next door were well acquainted. So well acquainted in fact, that they shared a lot of customers. But when I say share, it’s a lot more dark than you might first assume. You see, the barber often met people at their most vulnerable. Whether they were suffering from a painful malady or just needed a sharp razor dragged across their face, his customers had to put their trust in his skilled work and the barber had been using that trust to get a little richer. Every now and then it seems, he would welcome in a patron, lock the door…and then slit their throat when they least expected it. After his customer had expired this barber would drag their corpse to his cellar where he would strip them of all their valuables and clothing. Then using what I can only imagine was a set of very sharp, very deadly looking blades he would butcher them, package it up and then push the bundle through a small door in the wall. A door that led into the cellar of the shop above, and if you’ve been paying attention you know exactly what shop that was. That’s right; the patisserie. It seemed that both men had been sharing um resources and no one in the city was aware that those delicious meat pies were more than they appeared to be. The public did eventually catch on though, and legend says that it happened around 1430. They say that one day a man and his dog payed a visit to the barber. But while the man was welcomed inside, he was told his pet had to remain outside on the street. As fate would have it though, that man never set foot outside the shop again and his loyal dog stayed put. Eventually it was the dog’s constant barking that caught the attention of the neighbors who called upon the man’s wife. She arrived completely distraught, not having heard from her husband for hours. The sight of their dog, alone outside the barber shop was enough to send her to the authorities. When they arrived, you can imagine what happened next. The barber’s murderous hobby was discovered, as was his trapdoor to the Patisserie shop above. Both men were arrested, quickly found guilty and then executed for their monstrous crimes. I can’t find definitive proof, but legend has it that both men were executed by being placed inside large metal cages and then burned over massive fires. It certainly sounds like a fitting end for a pair of killers who spent years cooking their victims, thankfully their own bodies were reduced to ashes - after being slow roasted of course. The city tried to move on and bury the past after that, the shops were torn down and for a long while no one was allowed to build on that land. It’s even said that Paris officials had a small monument placed on the empty lot described as a tall pyramid shaped stone. No one knows where it is today, and most people seem to be alright with that. Which is ironic if you think about it, in a city that has spent centuries literally digging up it’s past in order to add character and charm to it’s offerings it feels odd that the story of the murderous barber wouldn’t be given a more prominent place if only for the boost to tourism. Instead it’s been knocked down and wiped clean which is the more fashionable approach I suppose. Historians often talk about the need to help the past come to life because we have a lot to learn from exploring it all. And while I think it’s a wonderful sentiment in general, there are some exceptions to that rule. Clearly, some parts of the past are better left buried.

Paris is in many ways, the city of Light. It’s beautiful and charming and full of life and laughter in a way that has earned it a reputation as the romance capital of the world. Millions of people travel to spend time there every year and all you really need to do is look at a few photographs of the place to understand why. And have I mentioned the pastries? But light casts shadows for all the places of beauty you can find in the city, there are dark counterparts. The towering monuments above are echoed below by miles of tunnels full of millions of human bones. The cobbled streets and beautiful neighborhoods are built on soil that has soaked up the blood of tens of thousands over the years. Needless to say, Paris is complicated. And it’s also a great metaphor for how we treat the past in general. Every city around the world has stains on the pages of it’s history. Every culture has a long list of tragedy and mistakes right next to it’s glorious achievements, maybe that’s the human legacy. We are capable of accomplishing so much and yet it almost always comes with a dark cost. As I mentioned earlier, in the aftermath of the discovery of the grizzly crimes of those shop owners, Paris officials prohibited anyone from building on the land where the crimes took place. A century later though, those rules were relaxed and ever since; the true location of the bloody barbershop has been lost to time. But not the story itself, because tales like that have a way of sticking around don’t they. There’s a grim attractiveness about them and while they might not be shared in the most public of places, they certainly become part of the rumor mill. Which is why, over the centuries that followed that story spread. Not just to the rest of Paris or even the countryside around it, but outside of France as well. By the time it reached England, it was the perfect tale to include in one of the many Penny Dread-fulls that were printed and sold during the Victorian Era. The basic elements of the tale found it’s way into a magazine called The People’s Periodical and Family Library; who in 1846 published an eighteen part story called ‘The String of Pearls’. Of course, the details had changed a bit by then and a lot of the plot with it, to be honest if you didn’t know the connection you would just think it was another bit of entertaining fiction. But those who know, have a whole new appreciation for the story and for the infamous main character that it all revolves around. A man who thanks to Broadway and Hollywood, just about everyone today would recognize. The Demon Barber of Fleet Street, Sweeny Todd.

I hope you’ve enjoyed this tour through some of the less polished aspects of Paris. It’s clear that there is a lot to discover especially if one is looking for the darker side of the City of Light. But I’m not done just yet, I’ve saved one final tale that’s sure to give you chills. And if you stick around after this brief sponsor break, I’ll tell you all about it.

You don’t have to be a student of history to have at least heard the name Catherine De' Medici. It’s a name that stirs up images of intrigue and plots among the nobility of her day but there’s so much more to her than that. Catherine was born in Italy into the once prominent Medici family. At the time of her birth though, things were becoming tense. At the age of eight she became a political pawn and was captured and held hostage in a convent while the older generation battled for control of Florence. There were happy moments though, and for all the turmoil much of her childhood was spent in the presence of family members who also happened to be Dukes and Popes and Kings. So, when she was married off to Prince Henry the son of Francis King Francis the 1^st it was a transition that was less of a shock than it would’ve been for most others. Catherine’s husband Henry finally ascended to the throne in March of 1547 and for the next twelve years she would reign by his side as Queen Consorts. The couple also had ten children, three of whom would later go on to wear their father’s crown at different points. So, when people imagine Catherine De' Medici as a spider at the center of a political web of intrigue this is why. Because in a lot of ways, she was. In the forty-two years between 1547 when her husband Henry became King of France and 1589 when she passed away, Catherine wielded a powerful influence over much of Europe. Some of that power was visible and obvious but there were also darker elements. And one of them involved the butcher named Jean Le Couture. When Henry died in 1559, Catherine had a new palace built along the river Seine in the Saint Germaine parish of the city. It’s said that Le Couture had a cottage on the palace grounds from where he conducted his business for her. By day he was the official butcher for the palace and by night when required, he was a butcher of a different sort. It’s said that he worked as an assassin for Catherine as well as the shadowy figure that pulled political levers when they were too dirty for his employer to touch. But as the years went by it became very clear to Catherine that Le Couture knew too much. All of those dark tasks had armed him with power over her, and that was simply unacceptable. So, Catherine hired someone else, a knight from out of town to put an end to her butcher. Legend say’s that the new assassin found the old one working in his cottage at the palace and ran him through with a sword. And that we would assume was the end of a frightening situation for Catherine. But if history has taught us anything it’s that it’s never safe to assume. Later that evening, the knight had a dream. In it, Le Couture appeared to him all covered in blood. The image frightened him so much that he told Catherine about it, but she dismissed his dream without a second thought. Or at least, it seemed that she had. Later though, she went to an astrologer and asked what he made of the dream; and his answer wasn’t happy. It turns out he had also had a dream, not of a bloody butcher but of the ghost of a man surrounded in red mist. And in his dream the spirit had uttered a curse, a curse that said that Catherine would die near Saint Germaine. Naturally, that was an image she wished to forget but it seems the palace never let her. Many times in the weeks that followed it’s said that Catherine herself saw the red ghost inside the palace. Taunting her like the lights of an oncoming train. And being a superstitious person who valued control and power over anything else she decided to take matters into her own hands. If death was going to come for her near Saint Germaine, then she would simply move away. If she no longer lived in the Parish, she would be safe. Catherine lived on for many more years and enjoyed a level of power that few in Europe had at their disposal. And while she was very far from perfect, it’s clear that she left her own particular marks on the pages of history. So, when she passed away on the 5^th of January of 1589 it’s fair to say that the world lost someone unique. But that’s not all, as she lay on her deathbed in Chateau De Blois struggling to breathe from the infection around her lungs that would eventually kill her she found solace in the words of a Benediction monk who had come to give her her last rights. When he was done, she smiled up at him and thanked him and then asked him for his name. Loudon he replied, Loudon Du Saint Germaine.

This episode of Lore was written and produced by me, Aaron Mahnke with research by Marset Crockett and music by Chad Lawson.