The river flows under my arches and crosses
the city towards the north. I used to be known as the Great
Bridge, a well-chosen name for me, in relation with the "Rue
du chat qui pêche". I'm now known as the Pont Bouju
under the more modest name of a city resident. Until two centuries
ago, my arches bore a large number of houses along my banks.
Ever since 1300, I have always been an important cross-point,
thanks to my special location below the Château des Comtes,
where I watched over the outer courtyard and its fortifications.
I bore a mill, the canoness' oven as well as huge crowds walking
to the city centre. Violent currents unsealed my pillars and
carried my arches away one day in 1837. I was born once again
and here I am, as always, master of the path leading to the
cathedral.