Having access to older maps of the Forest makes me reflect on the everchanging nature of the place. It’s very human influenced by industries which come and go, resetting of habitat and the creation of paths for humans, cycles and horses.
There are paths that have disappeared, sometimes in part and sometimes in entirety. Some paths have changed names and status, and some paths are more recently created for a more modern need.
One such path is the Preumontpad/Sentier de Preumont that connects the Ganzepootvijver near Groenendaal and the Chaussée de Waterloo near O’Manor and the start of Avenue Brassine. It wasn’t there in 1910 according the reliable René and his map from that year.
So how was it named? It’s Preumont in French and Dutch.
Two possibilities surface.
1. Named after a person.
Preumont is indeed a family name found in Belgium and northern France. It’s perfectly plausible that someone with that surname once had a connection to the area, and the forest authorities immortalised them with a path. The name is short, clean, pronounceable in both languages and avoids the complication of translation. On paper, it works.
But in practice? A 2.5 km forest path is a long stretch to name after an individual, and there is no record I can find of a Preumont linked to Uccle, Waterloo or Rhode. No commemorative note, no archive trace, no local figure who fits the bill. And when the name is identical in French and Dutch, the absence of context becomes even more striking. (if you know different, please let me know).
Which brings us to the second option.
2. A descriptive name revived for modern use.
This is where things get interesting. The old Romance forms behind names like Prémont or Préaumont mean something very simple: a rise, a slope, a place on the way up.
And this path does exactly that. It climbs steadyily from a damp valley floor to dry, plateau and then drops down again. It is, quite literally, the path of the rise.
In Brussels–Brabant naming policy, where language is sensitive and translation can become political, neutral names are often chosen deliberately. Something that feels old, works equally in French and Dutch without adaptation, and ties neatly to the land itself.
Preumont fits that pattern far more closely than a commemorative surname.
So which explanation feels right?
Given the lack of any historical Preumont figure linked to this corner of the Forest, and the way the name perfectly mirrors the terrain it follows, the second option seems the more likely. A modern, neutral, descriptive choice. A nod to the slope itself.
A path that rises, and a name that simply says so.