“[T]he walls of merry däyle” (MS VIII;
Poems [1891];
Works [1903])—W. G. Collingwood
conjectured that the word transcribed here as
däyle should be read as
Kehl—the
name of the village directly east of
Strasbourg, across the
Rhine—and
Collingwoodʼs editing of the line and his justification were reprinted by the editors of the
Library Edition.
According to
Collingwood, “the word in the original is illegible”, so he based his interpretation on the poemʼs overall suggestion of locale
(
Poems [4o, 1891], 1:138, 283, and
Poems [8o, 1891], 1:138, 285).
But while the letters are formed uncertainly, and
Ruskin worried the handwriting in these opening two lines with pen strokes that are not quite strikethroughs,
the letters are legible enough, and they certainly do not spell
Kehl. I suggest that
Ruskin made a nonce word,
däyle,
either because he could not remember the name of the “merry” place in question, or because he was making a joke—an umlauted and grotesquely spelled word
to rhyme with
dale, signifying the quaintness of German language. Elsewhere in the
“Account”,
Ruskin does not hesitate to adopt a condescending attitude toward German culture, as in the prose section of
“Ehrenbreitstein”
(see
The Ruskinsʼ Attitudes toward Germany).
All this said, with
Ruskinʼs nonce word frustrating the identity of the poemʼs intended locale,
Collingwood was likely correct to infer that
“the poem must refer to the dayʼs journey described in
Praeterita:
‘earliest morning saw us trotting over the bridge of boats to
Kehl, and in the eastern light I well remember
watching the line of the
Black Forest hills enlarge and rise, as we crossed the plain of the
Rhine’”
(
Poems [4o, 1891], 1:283,
Poems [8o, 1891], 1:285;
Ruskin, Works, 2:365 n. 1; 35:113).
While visiting
Strasbourg on the French side of the
Rhine, the
Ruskins
stayed the nights of
6–7 June on the German side in
Kehl. This inconvenience was likely
owing to the reputation of the “
French custom house on the opposite side” for being so “notoriously strict”
that, as
John Murray III advised, “persons wishing to see merely
Strasburg”
should “leave their carriage and baggage at
Kehl and hire a calèche” to cross the pontoon bridge.
Mrs. Trollope, traveling in the same year as the
Ruskins, took the advice;
and amusing herself by watching others being searched by the French officials, testified that she “never saw caution carried to so comic an excess”.
The Ruskins refused, however, to sacrifice the comfort of their carriage for sight‐seeing in
Strasbourg,
with the result that they had to vacate the vehicle to be searched, as
Mary Richardson complained
(
Hand‐book for Travellers on the Continent, 445;
Trollope, Belgium and Western Germany in 1833, 2:66;
Diary of Mary Richardson, 1833, 33–34).
The “walls” that
Ruskin mentions in the opening lines, along with the military metaphor of the surrounding hills that “ramparted” the plain,
were appropriate associations with
Kehl. In the seventeenth century,
Louis XIVʼs military architect,
Marshal Vauban, designed fortifications
on both sides of the
Rhine, at
Strasbourg and
Kehl, guarding the
Rhine crossing.
The strategic position at
Kehl was besieged and captured by the Austrians during the
French Revolutionary Wars, but later annexed by
Napoleon—“convert[ing]
the peaceful German village” of
Kehl, according to a British tourist in the early
1830s,
“into a menacing French fortification”. In fact, following the
Congress of Vienna
Kehlʼs fortifications were taken down and remained “at present . . . dismantled”,
as
Murray pointed out in
1836, but remnants still could appeal to the imagination,
and
Vaubanʼs citadel remained standing across the river in
Strasbourg
(
Leigh, Rhenish Album, 332;
Hand‐book for Travellers on the Continent, 445).
“We entered on a little glen / Those miniature Alps among, / . . . /
But the dell narrowed as we went / Till, ʼtwixt the promontories pent / . . . / from the obscure / Emerged we on a lofty moor, / Open, and shelterless, and bare, /
And gently undulating far” (MS VIII; Poems [1891];
Works [1903])—The passing landscape described over the course of the poem
corresponds to impressions a traveler could have formed along the Ruskinsʼ route from
Kehl to
Schaffhausen.
In the diary kept by
Ruskinʼs cousin,
Mary Richardson,
she mentions passing through
Offenburg,
Biberach,
Hausach,
Hornberg, (possibly)
Schonach,
Villingen,
Donaueschingen, and
Blumberg.
This is route CVIII in
Murrayʼs
1836 Hand‐book for Travellers on the Continent (pp. 448–50),
a route that leads from the
Rhine plain into the
Black Forest via the valley of the
Kinzig River,
starting at where this stream empties into the
Rhine at
Kehl.
Here, on the western side of the
Black Forest facing the
Rhine, the wooded heights are steep and the ravines narrow,
as
Ruskinʼs poem describes; and on the eastern side of the
Black Forest nearer the headwaters of the
Danube,
hills are more rounded and give way to plateaus—Ruskinʼs “south horizon!”
(although see below for an alternative reading of the latter detail in the poemʼs topography).
As the road penetrates deeper into the
Black Forest,
Murray comments as does
Mary Richardson, the route
“passes through a country which has quite a Swiss character”, tenanted by “broad‐roofed wooden houses”
(
Hand‐book for Travellers on the Continent, 448;
and see
Diary of Mary Richardson, 1833, 35). In
Ruskinʼs
Plan for Continuation of the Account of a Tour on the Continent,
the section proposed to fall between
“Strasburg” and
“Schaffhausen”
is called
“The Swiss Cottages”. Since
Ruskinʼs poem about the
Black Forest,
in keeping with other poems in the
“Account”, is confined to the landscape,
he likely intended a prose section and drawings to describe the cottages (which, presumably, were not actually “Swiss”, as described in the
The Poetry of Architecture
[
Ruskin, Works, 1:33–35],
but examples of the
Black Forest house with its long, hipped roof extending almost to the ground).
This planned prose section is very likely represented by the prose fragment,
“It was a wide stretchy sweep of lovely blue champaign”,
which immediately follows
“Oh, the morn looked bright on hill and dale”
in
MS VIII.
Toward the end of this route to Schaffhausen, at Donaueschingen Mary Richardson remarked that they crossed the Danube—not literally, of course,
but meaning that they passed near the confluence of two rivers, the Breg and Brigach, that form the headwaters of the Danube. For the Ruskins,
this encounter perhaps seemed the most eastern part of their journey, a suggestion of Austrian regions, where they would venture during their next Continental tour,
in 1835.