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CHAPTER III
BRUNESEAU
The sewer of Paris in the Middle Ages was legendary. In
the sixteenth century, Henri II. attempted a bore, which
failed. Not a hundred years ago, the cess-pool, Mercier at-
tests the fact, was abandoned to itself, and fared as best it
might.
Such was this ancient Paris, delivered over to quarrels, to
indecision, and to gropings. It was tolerably stupid for a long
time. Later on, ‘89 showed how understanding comes to cit-
ies. But in the good, old times, the capital had not much
head. It did not know how to manage its own affairs either
morally or materially, and could not sweep out filth any
better than it could abuses. Everything presented an obsta-
cle, everything raised a question. The sewer, for example,
was refractory to every itinerary. One could no more find
one’s bearings in the sewer than one could understand one’s
position in the city; above the unintelligible, below the inex-
tricable; beneath the confusion of tongues there reigned the
confusion of caverns; Daedalus backed up Babel.
Sometimes the Paris sewer took a notion to overflow, as
though this misunderstood Nile were suddenly seized with