As Europe battles record-breaking heatwaves, history offers a curious and surprisingly refreshing precedent from the heart of Rome. Centuries ago, a pope responded to sweltering summers not with policy memos or public warnings, but by flooding a public square.
In 1652, Pope Innocent X inaugurated the “Lake of Piazza Navona,” turning one of the city’s most iconic squares into a temporary basin. The move was rather practical — and popular.
On Saturdays and Sundays in August, the central fountains were altered to let water spill out freely, transforming the concave piazza into a shimmering, shallow lake.
Romans — both noble and ordinary — flocked to the square. ItalyRomeTour explains how carriages skimmed over the flooded stones, children splashed through the water, and musicians played to delighted crowds from balconies and stages. It was a moment of creative civic care in a city often defined by stone and sun — especially during the unforgiving Roman summer.
The idea had historical echoes. Piazza Navona was built on the remains of the Stadium of Domitian, an athletic arena from the first century. By the 17th century, the square was already a site of festivals and jousts, retaining its ancient function as a place of spectacle and relief. The flooding became part of that rhythm — a summer event that served both body and spirit.
Today, Piazza Navona remains a masterpiece of Baroque urbanism, framed by architectural marvels like Bernini’s Fountain of the Four Rivers and Borromini’s church of Sant’Agnese in Agone. But what many visitors don’t know is that the square once pulsed with water and joy, an early example of urban planning adapting to climate extremes.
Human-centered
Pope Innocent X’s gesture was more than a public amusement. It was an early act of environmental and civic empathy, aimed at easing the discomfort of the Roman people. His decision acknowledged what so many today are rediscovering: that cities must care for their inhabitants, especially the most vulnerable, during times of environmental stress.
By the mid-19th century, fears of disease led to the tradition’s gradual end. Ironically, medical experts like the pope’s own doctor had earlier insisted that with proper sanitation, the flooding posed no danger. Nevertheless, in 1870, the square was re-paved with a slight convex slope, making future inundations impossible.
Innocent X’s flooded piazza may feel like a relic of a different era, but its lesson endures. As European cities again face the challenge of extreme heat, we are reminded that solutions — whether technological or cultural — must be human-centered.
The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches that “God entrusted the earth and its resources to the common stewardship of mankind” (CCC 2402). Perhaps the waters of Piazza Navona remind us that stewardship sometimes flows through the smallest and most unexpected channels.
