Sandy Hobbs and David Cornwell | Dear Mister Thoms # 36, 1994

Sandy Hobbs and David Cornwell
(With thanks to Veronique Campion-Vincent)

Regular readers or Dear Mr Thoms… may be aware that we have carried a number of short pieces referring to a crocodile found in the sewers of Paris. Some conversations with Veronique Campion-Vincent which took place at this year's Conference on Contemporary Legend made us feel that these should be consolidated and commented upon.

First, in DMT 25, there appe<tred, courtesy of Veronique Campion-Vincent, the text in French of two newspaper articles describing the capture of a crocodile by sewer workers in Paris. We did not attribute these articles at that time. They appeared in France-Soir, 3 March 1984 and 10 March 1984.

In DMT 26, there was a report from David Cornwell that the aquarium at Vannes, Brittany, has on display a Nile Crocodile which it says was found in the sewers of Paris.

DMT 28 contained an extract from an article on the Paris sewers as a tourist attraction, found by Bill Nicolaisen, in the Aberdeen Press and Journal. A key sentence, referring to sewer employees, read:

They say they have also found pet snakes which escaped down lavatories, and a crocodile that was flushed down as a buaby and survived to become fully grown.

The second half of this sentence, though brief, is pretty much the "classic" version of The Alligator in the Sewer" legend, except, of course, that it is a crocodile and in Paris.

If we assume that all of these items have a common reference point, then to read them side by side is instructive. The Scottish newspaper article refers to the capture of a fully grown animal flushed down the toilet when a baby. However, the French articles which are pretty much contemporary with the actual capture refer quite explicitly to a "jeune" (young) and "bébé" (baby) crocodile. Its length is given as RO centimetres (around 30 inches). Thus it was not fully grown when captured.

But where did it come from? One of the difficulties about believing the "flushed down the lavatory" part of the Alligator in the Sewer story is wondering how anyone can know that part of the creature's history. France-Soir refers more delicately to New Yorkers releasing crocodiles "avec l'eau du bain" (with the bath water). However, it does not offer that explanation for the Parisian crocodile, writing only of it being "abandonné par ses mâitres" (abandonned by its masters).

France-Soir does give us one clue which might indicate that the crocodile got into the sewer by non-legendary means. The sewer where it was captured lies under the Quai de la Megisserie. This street by the River Seine is renowned for two kinds of shops — those selling plants, and those selling animals. Some of the animals one can see on display are relatively exotic. An escape from a pet shop may be less dramatic than a flush down a lavatory, but it is surely a more likely beginning to this crocodile story.

One further French newspaper clipping has come to hand, from Le Telegramme, 12 December 1992. According to the author, Alain Le Bloas, after its capture the crocodile spent two years in the Jardin des Plantes in Paris. (Despite its name, this is a zoo as well as a Botanic Garden.) It was then transferred to the Aquarium at Vannes where it is the star attraction. It has now grown to 1.8 metres (well over five feet) in length. It has been given the name Lacoste.

Le Bloas sheds no more light on how it got into the sewer, other than speculating that it was a pet brought from abroad which had grown too large to continue living in an apartment. However, he pictures Lacoste as having been "liberated" in the subterranean jungle. No hint of flushing toilets or bath water.

| Dear Mister Thoms # 28, 1992

Extract from the (Aberdeen) Press and Journal (1 September 1992} – courtesy of Bill Nicolaisen. See paragraph 13!

Dispatch from Paris.

Tourists head down sewers. Each day, say guides, 500 to BOO tourists from many countries make the tour. Britons are notably rare. Visitors do not loiter long beside the black rivers.

THERE may be nicer things to do on a summer holiday in Paris than tour the sewers. Yet, every day, hundreds of tourists take time away from the Palace of Versailles or the Louvre museum to plunge into the bowels of the City of Lights. It is hot and stuffy. It stinks. Rats are plentiful.

"This is a bit sick, but it is unusual," said Spanish tourist Yolanda Pasamio. "I thought it would be worse."

Guides claim Paris is the only major city in the world showing its sewers. A visit to the few galleries open to the public under the elegant Eiffel Tower district offers a rare insight into a mysterious city beneath the City.

Guides say that each day 500 to 800 tourists from many countries make the £2 visit. Britons are notably rare. The Japanese wear surgical masks against the stench.

Visitors do not loiter long beside the black rivers.

They are rewarded at the end of the tour with a fitting exhibition by Benyamina, an artist who works with lavatory seats. He turns them into mirrors, funeral wreaths, keyholes, clocks and letterboxes.

To avoid setting off explosions of accumulated gases, the underground city is devoid of lighting, except in the visitors' section. It has its own residents-up to 2 million rats, whose frantic breeding defeats any extermination campaign.

The 1,300-mile-long network runs 16ft to 260ft deep and follows the capital's streets. Each gallery bears the name of the street above it, marked on a traditional blue Parisian street sign, with street numbers corresponding to each building.

Thus, the 500 sewer workers know exactly where they are at all times.

The story goes that sewer workers, seeking to punish occupants of an apartment block who had been stingy with New Year tips, stuck a fork across its evacuation pipe, causing a blockage that backed up the sewage.

The maze of dark galleries is said to have provided haven for resistance fighters during World War II.

Access to all but the visitors' section is barred. Police fear that terrorists could set off bombs under key targets and burglars could burrow their way up into banks. Employees say anything can be found in the sewers: rings lost in lavatories, empty handbags discarded by thieves, and incriminating pistols thrown away by gangsters. Hundreds of weapons turned up in the wake of the war and in the troubled period after Algeria's war of independence from France.

They say they have also found pet snakes which escaped down lavatories, and a crocodile that was flushed down as a baby and survived to become fully grown.
Life in the sewers is far from healthy. Workers carry gas detectors to avoid being asphyxiated or setting off explosions.

A fall into the fetid rivers, called "baptism" or "assbath" in their own slang, can mean several days in hospital for anyone swallowing even a mouthful of water.

Staff are retired at 50, sometimes with lung trouble. Yet "My grandfather, father, two brothers-in-law and several cousins worked in the sewers," said 33-year-old Jose Lahaye, who shows visitors around.

Another danger looms from rainstorms, which can rapidly swell the sewers into roaring torrents. Headquarters keep in constant contact with weathermen to warn workers-and tourists-to return quickly to the surface.