Up to the castle

Published on 29/06/2021

If you want to learn more about Basel’s past, a walk with Roger-Jean Rebmann is a must. On his tours, Rebmann – or “Grabmacherjoggi” (gravedigger Jack), as they call him here – not only offers intriguing insights into Basel’s vibrant culture and heritage. He goes beyond staid encyclopedic details, revealing some of the city’s best-kept secrets that even most well-versed Basel enthusiasts are ignorant of. 

As a tour guide, Rebmann entertains his guests with captivating stories about the city’s vigorous history, and he relishes in cladding himself in historical costumes to recreate the aesthetic feel of Basel’s pre-industrial times. Sometimes, he appears as a night guard holding a lantern in his hand. At other times, you can see him dressed up as a nobleman, a peasant, or even a pious bishop. 

Eager to trace the pre-industrial history of Klybeck, we, too, decided to book Rebmann’s much-hyped city tour. We meet him at the Muensterplatz with its stately red cathedral, which is absolutely crammed with tourists on this pre-pandemic warm summer afternoon of 2017. Rebmann, just like us, is wearing jeans and a T-shirt, giving him a casual and inconspicuous look. As soon as he starts to speak, though, his voice immediately casts a spell over us. It feels as if we have been teleported to 15th century Basel – a time when the city used to be surrounded by fortified walls. 

“Back then, the large square beneath the red cathedral formed the epicenter of public life: Festivals, tournaments and markets were organized here,” Rebmann tells us, referring to the square at the heart of the city. “It was a hustle-and-bustle place during the day. Nobles, clergy, peasants, workers, showmen – a motley crowd gathered here to trade, argue, have fun and, of course, pray.” 

From the Muensterplatz, we slowly make our way down to the Rhine, before crossing the Mittlere Bruecke, Basel’s oldest bridge, which replaced the ramshackle wooden structure that had connected the two sides of the city. 

We stroll past the somewhat exhausted-looking statue of Helvetia into the Kleinbasel quarter and walk along the river for a bit until we reach the barracks, which have long ceased to be active and are now a bastion of the city’s burgeoning alternative scene. Then, we leave the Rhine path, taking a sharp right turn to head to Klybeckstrasse.

Moated castle

After a while, we come across Hotel Basilisk and Basel Boxclub, where once a wall stood to keep outsiders at bay. “Outside the city walls, things were very quiet,” Rebmann. In the old days, the only building outside the city’s defense perimeter was a picturesque moated castle, which later came to be known as the Klybeckschloesschen. 

We decide to stop for a breather at the side of the building located at Klybeckstrasse 248: “Right here, where you see an apartment block today, the Klybeck castle once stood for over 500 years. Presumed to have been built in 1402, it was demolished in the 20th century to make way for affordable housing. Today, besides old drawings and engravings, only the street name Schlossgasse bears witness to its existence,” Rebmann tells us in a voice vibrating with exhilaration.

“The modern district of Klybeck derives its name from the castle. The name ‘Klybeck’ comes from the Middle Ages, when the area was commonly referred to as ‘bei den Kluben’ or ‘in den Kluben.’ The word ‘Eck’’ (German for corner) was added much later in the 15th century. This was also when the castle was mentioned for the first time, called ‘Kluben-Eck’ – Klybeck.”

The origin of the expression “bei den Kluben” has not yet been unambiguously clarified. Rebmann says, “the most likely hypothesis is that the name goes back to a former landowner.” But there are other theories: Long ago, the castle was mainly used for agricultural purposes: “Here in Klybeck, when the area was not yet developed and the castle stood alone, people did a lot of farming. Out in Kleinhueningen, there were fishermen, the fields adjoining the castle were ploughed by farmers, and there was even a bit of winegrowing. But you have to keep in mind that, back then, people had abysmally low standards when it came to wine. Nowadays, one wouldn’t be allowed to serve something like that – but in those days people actually drank it.” 

As we discovered, the name Klybeck may hark back to the winemaking tradition of the area that reaches back to the Middle Ages. “Kluben” means “to split” in Middle High German, and an old Swiss proverb goes: “Früh kluben gibt sch ne Truben” – splitting early gives beautiful grapes.

Suckling pig feast

In the Middle Ages, the main road from Basel to the neighboring fishing village of Kleinhueningen led through Klybeck. Kleinhueningen, in contrast, was part of the margraviate of Baden-Durlach, making Klybeck Basel’s farthest outpost to the north. 

Life used to be difficult in Klybeck, not least because of its peripheral location and poor accessibility. As abundantly documented in the city’s historical records, being insulated from the rest of Basel brought with it many challenges: “Far out there was the Klybeckschloesschen, isolated and disconnected from the city – and that was probably the reason why it was attacked by an Austrian cavalry regiment in 1445. The soldiers looted and plundered, facing almost no resistance,” says Rebmann. 

Until its demolition in 1955, the castle had witnessed and been part of many historical events, including the prolonged dispute between the monastery of St. Blasien and the abbess of Saeckingen, and the scandal involving the infamous lord Simon von Aug, who, in 1513, hosted a suckling pig dinner at the castle on Palm Sunday against the will of the Catholic Church. 

At the dawn of the 20th century, the castle had been converted into a social institution by the Swiss physician Eduard Koechlin. It is at this point, explains Reb-mann, that the history of the chemical in-dustry collides with that of the castle: “In the early 1920s, Eduard Koechlin set up a charitable institution called Ulme, which took up residence in the castle. By that time, many industrial workers had settled around Klybeck, most of them living in destitute circumstances. Koechlin, a compas-sionate and devout man, was aware of the fears, hardships and sufferings of the work-ing class. At the Ulme, people could learn needlework, cooking and nursing, among other things.”

After a long stop not far from where the castle was once situated, the tour continues in the direction of Wiesenschanzenweg, toward the staff restaurant of Novartis and along the red-brick buildings of the former dye works. On the way, Rebmann continues to lecture us about the milestones of Klybeck’s centuries-old past. “From a historical standpoint, the year 1640 is of crucial importance, because at that time Kleinhueningen was added to the city, and suddenly, Klybeck no longer constituted the outermost part of Basel.” 

This new situation presented Klybeck with new challenges – especially during the Neuchâtel crisis around 1856 when armed conflict threatened to break out between the Swiss Confederation and Prussia. Two redoubts, both capable of holding up to 300 men, were erected near Klybeckschloesschen as part of war preparations. A third one was built where today’s Wiesenschanzenweg intersects with the Mauerstrasse. 

“Klybeck could have turned into a battlefield had the crisis not been resolved peacefully,” Rebmann notes. “Beside the three redoubts, there were also several dams on the Wiese river, which the Swiss could use to flood the area in the event of war to prevent the enemy moving further south. I doubt that the entrepreneur Alexander Clavel, who helped build the chemical industry in Basel, would ever have set foot in this place had the city been attacked by the Prussians.” 

Fired up by our guide’s stories, we turn into Gottesackerstrasse, and in just a few steps, we reach the nearby Horburgpark, built as a cemetery in 1889. Today, a fragment of the old cemetery wall still stands, serving as a tribute to the past function of the site. 

It was no coincidence that both the cemetery and the chemical industry found a home in Klybeck, a peripheral quarter. The people of Basel wanted to have neither a cemetery nor a dye works within the confines of the old town. So it came about that Alexander Clavel decided to take up residence in neighboring Klybeck in 1864, after he was expelled from the city over complaints about the pungent smell emanating from the dye factory he had set up there. 

“Alexander Clavel, who originally hailed from Lyon, came to Basel to take over the dyeing business of a deceased friend. Here, he was able to establish himself quickly as one of the pioneers of the chemical industry. However, there were still a few problems remaining which threatened to derail his success. For instance, the location of his production site faced vehement opposition from many of the city’s inhabitants, as a result of which he was forced to relocate his entire operation to Klybeck,” Rebmann explains. 

In Klybeck, Clavel set up a dye plant and a chemical factory, which later became Ciba. 

As Ciba continued to expand its business, Klybeck gradually evolved into a densely populated working-class neighborhood centered around the manufacturing site. The course of the Old Rhine near Klybeckschloesschen was filled in in 1895. In the early 20th century, the quarter was connected to Basel by bus and rail, which was followed by the completion of new railroad connections and harbor facilities. 

The once idyllic landscape outside the city walls had morphed into an industrial hub, with its skyline dominated by tall chimneys and fuming smokestacks.