The Story behind the Avignon Bridge and “Sur Le Pont de Avignon”
A perspective on the Avignon bridge from the land on the city side. Avignon, France. February 28, 2022.
We all assume the universality of our childhood songs and stories, dances, and games.
Who knew that the French don’t know the classic schoolyard game “duck duck goose?” (I didn’t, until I bopped my French husband on the head and said “GOOSE!” and got a very, very concerned look.)
And who knew—among the French, anyway—that “Sur le Pont d’Avignon” is not, in fact, part of every American child’s growing up? (Not most of the French people who’ve asked me about it, at least.)
Nope, we Americans do not sing about dancing on the bridge in Avignon, nor do we do a little square dance to go with it. (Though we did, at least in my elementary school, do square dancing of the country-and-western variety. Just me?)
Side note: Avignon is one of my favorite cities in France. If you have a visit to Avignon in mind, scroll to the bottom of this article for links to my recommendations for what to do and where to eat.
The History of the Avignon Bridge
The bridge referenced in the French children’s song is officially named Pont Saint Bénézet. The first version of the bridge was wooden, and it was built in the late 1100s. Of course, as wooden bridges have a tendency to do, especially back in the day, it burned at the hands of soldiers during a siege of Avignon in 1226.
When the city rebuilt the bridge a few years later, it built it using stone arches. However, the Rhône River the bridge crosses is a variable beast; its regular flooding caused the stone arches to collapse over and over again for—get this—hundreds of years.
By the 1700s, fed up with the rebuilding, the city gave up on the bridge and have let its remnants linger like a sad little pier out over the Rhone all the way to the present day.
Today’s visitors to Avignon can see and walk out over the bridge remnants—and for those who do, I’d recommend highly a visit to the guardhouse where you can watch a documentary explaining how archeologists worked with technology to firm up their hypotheses about how the city had constructed the bridge, what happened to it, and what it looked like back in the day. Because, indeed, we don’t know for certain, as complete historical records don’t exist.
The Story behind the Children’s Song “Sur le Pont d’Avignon”
Perhaps the bridge’s constant state of disrepair (or its narrowness, allowing only foot traffic or one horse-and-rider or -wagon at a time) is what makes historians believe that the dancers in this famous nursery rhyme danced under the bridge, rather than on it (despite what the song’s lyrics say).
Because, that’s correct, no consensus exists as to how this dancing happened, when it happened, who did it, or even what type of dancing exactly the song references.
As you can see in the lyrics to “Sur le Pont d’Avignon,” the song doesn’t really give much detail as to the type of dancing done, though the kids today circle up and dance in and out of the circle, bowing to each other when the song ends.
So when did the song get started?
Hard to say, exactly, who wrote the children’s song or why or when, though it didn’t come into widespread popularity until the mid-1800s, when a French composer named Adolphe Adam included it in a comic opera called Le Sourd ou l’Auberge Pleine.
Go to Avignon, See the Bridge, Sing the Song!
Though a partial bridge alone likely won’t draw anyone to Avignon, everyone should go—the city has so much to offer that after multiple visits and endless travels across France, it’s still one of my favorite places in the country.
If you go (and you really should!), here are links to my posts about what to see and do while in Avignon (and what you cannot miss tasting, too):
I’ll start with the Avignon food recommendations—because the food in Avignon is absolutely outstanding.
If you have only a day in Avignon—or longer—don’t skip these sights.
For winter visitors to Avignon, here’s my review about what to see, do, and expect.
And stay tuned for additional posts about my Avignon visits—because I can’t help myself from going back again and again!