The promenade has its origins in a line of trees given to the town by Sully in gratitude for his loyalty to Henri IV. Extended and adorned in the 18th century with a nymphaeum and a series of fountains, the promenade was described by Denis Diderot, who appreciated its position as a balcony overlooking the Bonnelle valley.
This area of greenery and water was first laid out in the mid-seventeenth century. It was at this time that Langres began to see its borders and the threats associated with them receding. It aspired to emerge from its fortifications and develop its surroundings in more attractive ways than ditches, glacis or covered paths.
In 1657, the City Council undertook the planting of a vast avenue lined with trees ("tillotz": lime trees) forming the promenade leading to the White Fountain. Badly treated by careless ploughmen and sheep eager for young shoots, they had to be replaced over the following years. Between 1733 and 1736, counter-alleys were planted to widen the promenade. It quickly became the favourite promenade of the Langrois people, who appreciated its refreshing shade, its views over the Bonnelle valley and the fi nal enchantment of its fountain.
Now a green link between the old town, the "new districts" and the citadel, the design of this promenade remains original; it is too long to be a park, too bushy to be "French-style" and too linear to be "English-style". In 1976, the age-old lime trees were replaced by new plantings.
A little background information:
As soon as it was laid out, this promenade was much frequented by the people of Langois; it's easy to imagine the young Denis Diderot frolicking in this "cool, shady, delightful" spot and dreaming in front of this inspiring landscape.
In the 18th century, there were plans to bring the pure waters of Blanchefontaine to the heart of the town.
The Latin inscription above the spring skilfully combines ancient references with allusions to these projects, which were never to see the light of day: "To the Lingons. I am the nymph who, out of breath, struggled to escape from your mountain so that an urn within your reach could give you my living waters. I will always be grateful for the honour you have done me, because, resplendent, I proudly raise my head among all the Naiads. I am a peasant, but if the gods grant my wishes, I will be a city-dweller and the whole city will be invigorated by my waters. 1755 ".
Promenade de Blanchefontaine
