CONTENT WARNING: This blog post contains descriptions and imagery of the Paris Catacombs, an underground ossuary containing the real skeletal remains of millions of people. Reader discretion is advised, especially for those sensitive to such content.
Burgeoning Paris had a big, not-so-beautiful problem by the middle of the 17th century. Quelle horreur! It smelled…
Waves of plague had killed thousands, and city cemeteries overflowed with barely-covered bodies, creating unsanitary conditions and causing health problems. Rotting corpses, foul odours, and disease had reached epidemic proportions.
The nail in the coffin (see what I did there!) occurred in 1780, following a long, rainy spring. The walls of a cellar next to the city’s main cemetery (the Cimetière des Saints-Innocents) collapsed, and remains of some two million dead Parisians spilled into the adjacent building.
Even more troubling, the bursting cemetery was adjacent to Les Halles, the city’s primary food market. Public health was at risk…
Something had to be done!
Paris sits atop creamy, grey deposits of Lutetian limestone. From Roman times, “Paris Stone” was quarried to construct grand structures like the Louvre, Notre-Dame, and the Arc de Triomphe.
In 1774, some of the older, long-abandoned quarries began to collapse, swallowing entire city streets under the weight of Paris. Architect Charles Axel Guillaumot saved it from sinking. It took him two years, but he supervised the stabilization of approximately 2,000 acres- worth of quarry walls and roofs.
Fortuitous, because the impressive network of passageways and tunnels beneath the city would not remain empty for long…
Why not relocate the inconvenient dead?
King Louis XVI, the last French king before the Revolution, decided to relocate the corpses from the crowded cemeteries into a small section of the subterranean mining network. Out of sight. Out of mind. And, most importantly, out of sophisticated Paris--considered the centre of the Enlightenment Movement at the time.
Transfers began in 1786. To avoid potentially hostile reactions from Parisians and the church, the bones were exhumed and moved at night. It took fifteen months for silent processions led by priests to complete the gruesome task.
This marked the beginning of the Ossuaire Municipal de Paris, affectionately called the Paris Catacombs. It became the final resting place for the remains of over six million Parisians, an attraction visited annually by more than 550,000 curious tourists.
Equality in death!
Many of the interred were victims of plagues, anonymous citizens from crowded Parisian cemeteries. But notables ended up there, too — and, thanks to the guillotine and the French Revolution, even members of the French aristocracy and royal family.
Bones of all social classes, with no distinctions between rank, wealth, or status, were mixed—the common with the elite—making it impossible to distinguish whose bones belonged to whom. A collective reminder that everyone, regardless of life's station, is the same in death!
Making the dead artful and touristy…
Initially, the bones were unceremoniously dumped into the empty passageways in scattered, disorderly piles. But Napoleon, inspired by the catacombs of Rome, dreamed of creating a similar attraction in Paris. He commissioned a large team of quarry workers and masons under the direction of Inspector Héricart de Thury to do just that.
Femurs and tibiae were decoratively re-arranged into intricate, visually-striking patterns (think: hearts, crosses, etc) to create bone walls, with artfully placed skulls providing elements of dramatic (read: shocking) relief. The other bones were piled behind the walls. Columns, interpretative signage, and steles adorned with text or quotations were added for interest and to encourage introspection. Each section of the ossuary is labelled, indicating the name of the cemetery from where the remains were exhumed.
Voilà…an area that once served as a limestone quarry was transformed into a grisly 19th-century art installation destined to become the largest underground ossuary in the world. It opened to the public in 1809, and the last bones were deposited in 1860.
My macabre birthday excursion!
For some odd reason, I have an affinity for mysterious, creep-inducing places. Better yet, if they’re underground, with a dark history, unsettling atmosphere, and involve death and/or the supernatural. Morbid-minded, I know…I’m considering therapy!
The Paris Catacombs (located in the 14th arrondissement, near the Panthéon) checked all my boxes. They’ve been on my List for ages, but until our latest trip to the City of Light, I’ve never managed to make it happen. Only two hundred people are allowed down at a time, and tickets sell out quickly. The only ones I could get were at 3:46 pm (yes, entry is timed to the minute) on my birthday.
Travel Tips: If you’re considering a visit, purchase online tickets well in advance. Caveat: The Catacombs will be closed to the public from November 3, 2025, to the spring of 2026 for major renovations.
At our allocated time, we navigated the 131 dizzying spiral stairs (there are no elevators), and descended 20 meters -- 65 feet, the equivalent of a five-story building. The first tunnels we encountered, dark, damp, and musty-smelling, contained no remains. But a prophetic sign etched above the entrance to the actual bone chambers provided this solemn warning: “Arrêt! C’est ici l’empire de la mort!” Translation: “Stop! This is the empire of death!
Unfortunately (second thought, fortunately), we weren’t able to visit all six million of the interred. Some bones remain scattered, not neatly stacked and artfully displayed, in restricted/off-limits areas. The public is only allowed on a 1.5 km (or 0.9 mi) pathway, which encompasses a mere 5% of the underground network. The full extent of the balance of the largely unmapped maze is unknown. Some speculate it exceeds 320 kilometers (199 miles).
And who knew? Cataphiles, a subculture of urban explorers, disregard the extreme danger and illegally explore the off-limits areas. Paris even has a special police unit that patrols underground to arrest them.
Our stroll took close to an hour, but it can be completed more quickly. I like to read everything. The circuit isn’t a circle, and we exited at a different spot than we’d entered—which, to be honest, was where-are-we disorienting. I won’t ramble on, as I think my photographs convey the beauty in the grim—the heart was a particularly nice touch. But one inscription gave me pause, here’s the translation:
“As they were, so we are; as we are, so you will be."
Yup, there’s nothing like a profound reminder of one’s mortality on one’s birthday. Sadly, death is a definitive and inevitable biological process…but in the meantime, I plan to focus on life. I ascended the 112 stairs back up to Paris, and the land of the living, thinking: To hell with this…I’m getting cremated!
Frighteningly Fun Facts:
In World War II, both sides used the Catacombs for clandestine operations:
Raves, secret gatherings, and other clandestine parties have been held down under. In 1897, a concert was organized for over a hundred participants and featured, ha ha… Chopin's Funeral March.
A lost video camera was found in the 1990s. The footage showed a seemingly lost man, and captured his disturbing noises and frantic breathing. The guy was never identified or found.
Only one accidental death has been confirmed in the Catacombs. A hospital worker died in 1793, apparently trying to break into a wine cellar. Some speculate he was intoxicated and lost his source of light. His body, identified by his hospital key ring, was found eleven years later, a few metres from an exit staircase.
In 2004, police discovered a fully equipped movie theater in the Catacombs, complete with a giant cinema screen, seats for the audience, projection equipment, film reels, and a fully stocked bar.
Legend has it that the walls of the catacombs speak after midnight with the voices of the dead, trying to lure people deeper into the labyrinth. Some visitors even claim to have heard disembodied voices.
On that note, mes amis, happy birthday to me! Santé…
