“He hath reached a mountain hung with vine.... The feudal towers that crest its height Frown in unconquerable might; Dark is their aspect of sullen state, No helmet hangs o’er the massy gate, To bid the wearied pilgrim rest, At the chieftain’s board a welcome guest; Vainly rich evening’s parting smile Would chase the gloom of the haughty pile, That midst bright sunshine lowers on high, Like a thunder cloud in a summer sky.... Lingering he gazed--the rocks around Sublime in savage grandeur frowned; Proud guardians of the regal flood, In giant strength the mountains stood; By torrents cleft, by tempests riven, Yet mingling still with the calm blue heaven.” The story of Blondel is merely legendary, and it was probably only a sordid matter of ransom by which Richard Cœur de Lion won to freedom, and not owing to the devotion of his faithful minstrel. When Planché visited Dürrenstein he described the castle keep as being “not unlike the fine ruin at Rochester.” Either his memory did scant justice to Rochester, or else the ruins of Dürrenstein have become greatly damaged during the past seventy years, for to-day there is nothing to suggest a comparison between the great grim Norman keep on low ground near the Medway at Rochester, and the battered ruin which seems, as it were, to grow out of the jagged pinnacled rocks high above the Danube. From the neighbourhood of the castle run broken cliff edges south-easterly and south-westerly towards the Danube; these have at some period been built up into actual walls for defence, and in olden pre-artillery times must have rendered the town which they enclose on two sides--the third being formed by the Danube--a very formidable place. So formidable indeed that, even after the introduction of artillery, it is said that the citizens were able to give a good account of themselves. For, in 1741, a party of French and Bavarian cavalry having got across the Danube, thought to surprise Dürrenstein and make it an easy prey, believing it to be undefended. The citizens of the place were equal to the occasion, having prepared themselves for such an emergency. They barred up their gates as well as they could, laid bored logs of timber with their edges blackened, on the walls, in imitation of cannon, chalked the rims of their hats, to give them the appearance of being bound with white lace, according to the uniform of their troops at that time, and parading up and down the ramparts--taking care that their hats only should be seen above the walls--with much blowing of trumpets and beating of drums, absolutely induced the enemy to believe that the place was strongly garrisoned; and they accordingly wheeled to the right-about without firing a shot, to the infinite joy and amusement of the cunning inhabitants, who certainly well deserved their escape.