The air carries an extraordinary mixture of sewage, horse manure, urine, rotting food, stagnant water, smoke and animal waste. Below your window, a narrow street is covered in mud. Horses pull wooden carts through the mess. Shopkeepers dispose of refuse. Water trickles through filthy gutters, carrying whatever the neighbourhood has discarded.
Welcome to Paris under King Louis XIV, the celebrated Sun King.
This is not the Paris of fashion magazines, luxury hotels or romantic weekends. Nor is it quite the Paris we encounter in lavish historical productions, where even the poorest streets somehow look charming.
The real city could be an assault on the senses.
Paris was already one of Europe’s great cultural and political centres. It possessed remarkable churches, magnificent private residences, prestigious institutions and thriving commercial districts. But architectural splendour did not guarantee sanitary conditions.
Much of everyday life unfolded in streets where rubbish, mud and waste accumulated faster than the authorities could remove them. The movement of horses and carts contributed to the problem, while trades involving animal products, food processing and other materials added their own distinctive smells.
For ordinary people, navigating this environment was a daily challenge. Rain could turn streets into muddy obstacles, and inadequate drainage made matters worse. Some districts suffered particularly badly because of their density, geography or proximity to polluting activities.
Then there was the question of human waste.
Modern flushing toilets did not exist. Chamber pots, shared latrines and cesspits were essential parts of urban life. Emptying those cesspits required specialised workers who faced conditions that were not merely disgusting but potentially deadly.
Contrary to the popular image of medieval and early modern Europeans constantly throwing everything out of their windows, Paris did have regulations governing waste disposal. Authorities had long recognised that uncontrolled filth created serious problems. Yet regulations were one thing, enforcement another.
The city simply lacked the comprehensive infrastructure needed to manage the waste generated by a large and growing population.
Drinking water presented another challenge. The River Seine was essential to the city’s water supply, directly and indirectly, but it also received polluted runoff and wastewater. Wells, fountains and water carriers helped sustain daily life, while water quality remained an enduring concern.
Imagine a city where obtaining safe water was not as simple as turning on a tap.
And imagine confronting infectious diseases without antibiotics, modern vaccination programmes or a scientific understanding of bacteria and viruses.
People certainly understood that certain environments were unhealthy, although they generally interpreted the problem through theories involving corrupted air and harmful vapours. Germ theory would emerge much later.
Meanwhile, at Versailles, the French monarchy displayed almost unimaginable wealth.
The contrast was extraordinary. France could finance vast palaces, elaborate gardens, extravagant ceremonies and monumental architecture, yet its capital continued to struggle with the basic business of keeping streets clean and human waste under control.
Of course, this was not simply a matter of an indifferent monarchy. Urban sanitation was an immensely difficult technical and administrative challenge throughout early modern Europe. London, Rome and other major cities faced serious problems of their own.
Paris did attempt reforms, including measures introduced during Louis XIV’s reign. Street cleaning existed, rubbish collection was organised to varying degrees, and officials repeatedly tried to improve public conditions.
But the scale of the challenge was overwhelming.
Indeed, the problem continued throughout the eighteenth century. By 1780, historical records indicate that approximately 500 cartloads of mud were being removed from Parisian streets every day.
Five hundred cartloads. Every single day.
And the streets were still far from clean.
The transformation of Paris would require generations of investment and major engineering projects. During the nineteenth century, particularly under Napoleon III, the city underwent enormous changes. Engineer Eugène Belgrand helped develop the water supply and sewer networks that would become central to modern Parisian sanitation.
Even then, progress was gradual and uneven.
This history matters because nostalgia has a remarkable ability to erase inconvenience, suffering and inequality.
We often imagine the past through paintings, palaces, costumes and great historical personalities. We see the magnificent furniture but not the cesspit. The elegant carriage but not the manure. The candlelit dining room but not the contaminated water.
We admire the beauty and forget the smell.
Today, Paris still faces legitimate problems involving rubbish collection, street cleanliness, public maintenance and irresponsible behaviour. Criticism of these failures is perfectly reasonable.
But the suggestion that cities were somehow naturally cleaner, healthier or more civilised centuries ago collapses under the weight of historical evidence.
Modern residents benefit from drinking-water systems, wastewater treatment, organised rubbish collection, sanitary regulations, medical advances and infrastructure that previous generations could scarcely have imagined.
These achievements are not trivial conveniences. They are among the greatest improvements in everyday human life.
The past deserves our curiosity, admiration and respect. It does not deserve blind idealisation.
So the next time someone nostalgically declares that everything was better in the good old days, offer them a trip to Paris in 1700.
No modern plumbing. No reliable clean water. No antibiotics. No rubbish trucks. No comfortable bathroom waiting at the end of the day.
Just a beautiful city, extraordinary monuments and a truly unforgettable smell.
They might discover that the greatest luxury of modern civilisation is not a magnificent palace or an expensive perfume.
It is being able to flush a toilet and drink a glass of clean water.
The good old days? Perhaps for the paintings. Certainly not for your nose.
