"At that time [1738],
towns stank in a way unimaginable for us
The streets stank of manure, the courtyards of urine, the stairs of moldy wood and rat excrement, the kitchens of rotting cabbage and sheep fat: Badly aired rooms stank of dust, bedrooms of greasy sheets, damp bedspreads and the bitter mustiness of chamber pots. Fireplaces spat a sulfurous stink, tanning establishments the stench of their corrosive baths, and slaughterhouses the stench of curdled blood. People stank from sweat and unwashed clothes : The mouths stank from rotted teeth, their stomachs stank from onions and their bodies from old cheese and sour milk and eruptive tumors. The rivers stank, the squares stank, the churches stank, it stunk under the bridges and in palaces. [...]
Naturally it was in Paris that the stench was greatest, for Paris was the biggest town of France. And in the center of the capital was a place where stench reigned in a way that was particularly infernal [...] that was the cemetery of the Innocents. For eight hundred years [...] day after day corpses had been carried by the dozen and thrown them into long ditches, for eight hundred years they had filled the successive layers of charnel houses and ossuaries."
-- Perfume: the Story of a Murderer by Patrick Süskind, 1985