Ask the History Doc: Another Paris Flood?

Dear History Doctor: Lately, the news from Paris has been all wet—literally. Are they really expecting a major flood? If so, what are they planning to do about all of those art treasures? -Lover of French Art Dear French Art Lover, Yes, the History Doctor has been hearing the same sort of thing. Since illness prevented a first-hand look at the potential crisis, the History Doc decided to poke into the history of recent flooding in Paris in some records available outside France and see what the plans are for this time around. The result of these inquiries shows that although the threat seems quite real, the situation just might offer a way to help ease some of the current stress between the US and France. The Seine, as it turns out, floods at least a little bit rather regularly. Of course, some small rise in the river does not do much harm. In January 1910, however, there was a flood that might have made Noah feel right at home. In an eyewitness account which can be found in THE WORLD’S GREAT EVENTS, Vol. 9, there are descriptions of crowds gathering along the river embankments early in the flood’s progress, “admiring the headlong rush of the silent yellow river that carried with it logs and barrels, broken furniture, the carcasses of animals and perhaps sometimes a corpse,” astonished as they witnessed “great piles of stones, and the roofs of sheds emerge momentarily… and then vanish… while barges and pontoons… rose gradually to the level of the streets.” Small towns near the Seine flooded, the electricity failed in Paris, transportation no longer transported, homes were filled with water. And to crown it all, the public clocks, which were controlled by a compressed-air plant, ceased to function when that plant flooded, freezing time for all of Paris at onze heures moins dix. The D’Orsay station became just another port of call for the Seine, which flowed through the station and then out though the ventilation shafts. The station turned into a very large indoor pool as the central part filled with the muddy water, submerging the trains beneath the deluge. The water then flowed into the St. Germain quarter, creating much havoc. As the Pont d’Alma began to disappear (it did not go under completely), a few inhabitants of Paris did understand that the immediate danger would have been much worse if the river had swept directly over the embankments on the Right Bank. Men worked furiously for three days to sandbag the Right Bank. As the Seine rose, so did the sandbags, which were backed at intervals by wooden screens. Before it was all over, the river had risen five feet over the level of the embankment, and so had the sandbags. The men had constructed a barricade half a mile long. At one point, one of the engineers reported that if the barrier did not hold, “five feet of water will sweep across the Place de la Concorde, the Boulevards—over everything.”That night a shivering crowd gathered together near the Quai de Louvre, which had been barricaded off by police. There was little noise and much anxiety for the treasures, which seemed to be threatened. In the darkness, the crowd could see nothing of the feverish activity going on along the southern side: some men trying to construct cobblestone barriers to fill a gap along the south side of the Louvre, others digging up the ground between poplar trees to stuff the earth into bags for a barrier, with groups trying to nail together driftwood fished out of the river to strengthen the barrier. One witness described how he peered over the barrier, expecting to find the river several feet below, and instead found he could reach out and touch it. He declared that “a few hours later and the river would have won; all the basement of the Louvre would have been flooded, and the water would have carried ruin across the Rue de Rivoli and Palais Royal.” Although cabs continued to try to drive for several days after the start of the flood, within a short time the cabmen and even the chauffeurs refused to cross any of the bridges at all, declaring they “knew” the bridges were not safe. After several days, part of the Place de l’Opera began to collapse, and many of the bridges were closed. At the worst point, all nine bridges between Pont Neuf and Pont de Grenelle were blocked off. Twenty percent of the then-residential area of Paris was under water. Men, who tried to continue to go to work, frequently returned home to find their entire street flooded, even though it had been passable that morning. Sometimes whole streets collapsed suddenly, as the support underneath gave way. One man’s description is typical: “One evening I was walking down a street which a few hours before had been thick with traffic. A single cart passed down beside me, and, at once, without the slightest warning, the road began to undulate; and the next minute I was in water up to the knees….” The water had rolled into Paris on January 21, though the start of the trouble was several days before. It was not until the first sunny morning, on January 29, that the crowds gathered to watch the river’s progress could stop murmuring ca monte and begin to relax as the Seine began to retreat.And what about today? Florence is still trying to recover from the devastation of the flood that struck there in the 1960s and more recent flooding in Germany and the Czech Republic did untold damage to priceless art treasures. Since the Seine has indeed flooded again since 1910, but never as badly, Paris does not believe it is immune from another catastrophe. One official from the regional environment bureau agreed that a catastrophic flood was certain to happen, saying it was not a question of “if” but of “when.” The run-off basins, located outside of Paris, can hold less than a fourth of the several billion tons of water that might arrive in the Marne, the Aube, and the Yonne Rivers in case of heavy rains. Whatever could not be contained would flood into Paris, invading the Metro, undermining the foundations of buildings, and, of course, threatening the Louvre and d’Orsay. Both museums are particularly vulnerable. D’Orsay was so badly…