Buried in Paris by Mistake: The Pharaoh Beneath the Bastille
How Egyptian mummies ended up buried under a Paris monument to French revolutionaries.
Bonjour!
In the weeks leading up to Bastille Day (14 July), we’ve been exploring the quirky and powerful stories behind France’s national symbols.
From the tricolour flag to the fiery anthem of La Marseillaise, from Marianne and the Gallic Rooster to the origins of the Fête Nationale, it’s been quite a journey.
Today, I’m delighted to continue our Parisian wanderings with one of the city’s strangest secrets: the mystery of the pharaoh said to be buried beneath the Place de la Bastille, right in the heart of Paris!
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What do a dead pharaoh, a patriotic teenager, and a rotting priest from Thebes have in common?
Answer: they all ended up under the same Parisian column.
Now, if you’ve been to Paris — or even just glanced at a guidebook — you’ve probably heard of the Place de la Bastille.
It’s where the famous fortress was stormed on 14 July 1789, marking the start of the French Revolution.
The prison is long gone, but in its place stands the Colonne de Juillet, or July Column — a tall, proud monument honouring the 504 Parisians who died during another revolution: the less famous one of 1830.
Yes, the French had another one. (Actually, they had several, but let’s not get distracted.)
The column is topped with a golden winged figure known as the Génie de la Liberté — the Spirit of Liberty.
He shines in the sun, arms outstretched, his feet never touching the ground.
Tourists take photos. Locals cycle past without a glance. It all looks very respectable. Very patriotic.
And very misleading.
Because beneath that noble column, in the cool silence of its subterranean crypts, lie not just the martyrs of 1830… but, according to several credible historians, a handful of ancient Egyptian mummies.
Yes, actual mummies. With linen bandages. From the land of the pyramids. Buried under a monument to French revolutionaries.
In the middle of Paris.
This is not a Dan Brown novel. This is something stranger.
In this article, we’ll follow the incredible journey of a group of Egyptian nobles who travelled across the Mediterranean, crossed the Alps (well, probably by boat, but let’s stay dramatic), and ended up buried in a city that didn’t know what to do with them.
There will be emperors, mistakes, patriotic ceremonies, rotting corpses, and a bureaucratic blunder for the ages.
Oh — and did I mention the elephant?
Let’s begin.
A Gift Fit for a King (and Unfit for the Climate)
Let’s rewind to the year 1827. France is no longer under Napoleon, but his shadow still looms large — in politics, in fashion, and especially in matters of Egyptian fascination.
After all, it was Napoleon’s famous campaign in Egypt (1798–1801) that sparked a wave of Egyptomania across Europe.
Suddenly, sphinxes were in style, obelisks popped up in Parisian gardens, and hieroglyphs became the latest intellectual obsession.
Enter Méhémet Ali, the ambitious Ottoman governor of Egypt.
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