Slipping beneath the city’s skin, the Le Croult whispers tales of a forgotten Paris. Here, before the modern cityscape took hold, the Le Croult flowed freely. It was a vital artery, a lifeblood for the communities that thrived along its banks. Known in 832 as the “Crodoaldus flumen,” the Le Croult, perhaps named after a Germanic individual named Crodoald, has witnessed centuries of Parisian life. Imagine Saint-Denis in the 11th century. The Le Croult, contained by woven palisades, its waters coursing rapidly, depositing layers of sand on its riverbed. Along its banks, weavers and fullers busily worked, their wooden planks and walkways spanning the river, a testament to the river’s vital role in their trades. Later, stone embankments replaced the palisades, marking the passage of time and progress. Archaeological research has unveiled these remnants, revealing the Le Croult’s intimate connection to the city’s growth. The Le Croult wasn’t just a source of water. It was a power source. Mills sprang up along its length. Names like Fayvon, Courtille, Dos d’âne, Brise-Échalas, and the intriguing “moulin à tan” echo through history. These mills, powered by the Le Croult’s steady flow, ground grain, tanned hides, and drove the machinery of early industries. The river also supported a thriving community of dyers and cloth-makers, contributing to the fame of the “blancs de Saint-Denis.” Later, in the 18th century, four dyeing workshops competed along the Le Croult’s banks, as the cloth industry continued to flourish. By the turn of the 20th century, laundries replaced the dyeing workshops, reflecting the ever-changing needs of the city. The Le Croult even divided into two branches within Saint-Denis: the Croult inférieur and the Croult supérieur. These branches, rejoining beyond the city limits, further underscore the river’s intimate embrace of Saint-Denis. Sadly, the river that once nourished life became a victim of industrial progress. Cressonnières and wetlands, once vibrant ecosystems, were transformed into polluted waterways. By the 1950s, the once-open river was largely buried, concealed beneath the city’s streets. Today, there’s talk of “uncovering” the Le Croult, of restoring its visibility and ecological function. This resurgence could not only mitigate flood risks but also reconnect the city with its forgotten history. The Le Croult’s story, whispered beneath the pavement, reminds us that even in the heart of a bustling metropolis, the echoes of the past still flow.
Центральный дом работников искусств
Step through the grand wooden doors of the Central House of the Workers of Art, and you’ll be transported to