Chapter XXVI: Appendix: A.* the Death of Bennen.(253) (3)
The Combe (or Vallon) de la Selle joins the main valley at
Entraigues, and one can pass from the former by the little-known Col
de Loup (immediately to the south of the Pic de Bonvoisin) into the
Val Godemar. Two other passes, both of considerable height, lead
from the head of the Vallon de la Selle into the valleys of
Champoléon and Argentière.
118 This, like many other names given to mountains and glaciers on sheet
189, is not a local name, or, at least, is not one that is in common
use.
119 The height of the Col de Sellar (or de Celar) is 10,073 feet
(Forbes). I was told by peasants at Entraigues that sheep and goats
can be easily taken across it.
120 See map on p. 146. It is perhaps just possible, although improbable,
that these little glaciers were united together at the time that the
survey was made. Since then the glaciers of Dauphiné (as throughout
the Alps generally) have shrunk very considerably. A notable
diminution took place in their size in 1869, which was attributed by
the natives to the very heavy rains of that year.
121 This drawing was made to illustrate the remarks which follow. It
does not represent any particular couloir, though it would serve,
tolerably well, as a portrait of the one which we ascended when
crossing the Col de Pilatte.
122 The upper part of the southern side of the Col de Pilatte, and the
small glaciers spoken of on p. 168, can be seen from the high road
leading from Briançon to Mont Dauphin, between the 12th and 13th
kilomètre stones (from Briançon).
123 Since the above paragraphs were first printed, there has been some
improvement in Dauphiné in respect to the inns; and there is now at
La Ville de Val Louise a very decent little auberge called the Hôtel
Pelvoux, kept by M. Gauthier.
124 Under the title of _Massif du Mont Blanc, extrait des minutes de la
Carte de France, leré par M. Mieulet, Capitaine d’Etat Major_.
125 The heights (in mètres) are after Captain Mieulet.
126 Some of these heights have no business to figure in a list of the
principal peaks of the chain, being nothing more than teeth or
pinnacles in ridges, or portions of higher mountains. Such, for
example, are the Aiguilles du Géant, du Dru, and de Bionnassay.
127 Besides Mont Blanc itself.
128 Previous to this we made an attempt to ascend the Aiguille
d’Argentière, and were defeated by a violent wind when within a
hundred feet of the summit.
129 Great crevasses. A bergschrund is a schrund, and something more.
130 The passage of the Col de Triolet from the Couvercle to Prè du Bar
occupied 8½ hours of actual walking. If the pass had been taken in
the contrary direction it would have consumed a much longer time. It
gave a route shorter than any known at the time between Chamounix
and the St. Bernard. As a pass I cannot conscientiously recommend it
to any one (see Chap. XVII.), nor am I desirous to go again over the
moraine on the left bank of the Glacier de Triolet, or the rocks of
Mont Rouge.
131 The ascent of Mont Dolent and return to Prè du Bar (halts included)
occupied less than 11 hours.
132 The bracketed paragraphs in this chapter are extracted from the
notes of Mr. Reilly.
133 From a sketch by Mr. Adams-Reilly.
134 This glacier is named Glacier du Mont Blanc.
135 The Calotte is the name given to the dome of snow at the summit of
Mont Blanc.
136 Glacier du Dôme.
137 This is without a name.
138 I do not know the origin of the term _moraine_. De Saussure says
(vol. i. p. 380, § 536), “the peasants of Chamounix call these heaps
of débris _the moraine_ of the glacier.” It may be inferred from
this that the term was a local one, peculiar to Chamounix.
139 An example is referred to on p. 106. Much more remarkable cases
might be instanced.
140 It is not usual to find small moraines to large glaciers fed by many
branches draining many different basins. That is, if the branches
are draining basins which are separated by mountain ridges, or
which, at least, have islands of rock protruding through the ice.
The small moraines contributed by one affluent are balanced,
probably, by great ones brought by another feeder.
_ 141 Atlas of Physical Geography_, by Augustus Petermann and the Rev. T.
Milner. The italics are not in the original.
142 “The stones that are found upon the upper extremities of glaciers
are of the same nature as the mountains which rise above; but, as
the ice carries them down into the valleys, they arrive between
rocks of a totally different nature from their own.”—De Saussure, §
536.
143 One cannot do worse than follow that path.
144 The lower chalet de Lognan is 2½ hours’ walking from Chamounix. From
thence to the summit of the Aiguille d’Argentière, and down to the
village of the same name, occupied 12½ hours.
145 The Col de Zinal or Triftjoch, between the Trifthorn and the Ober
Gabelhorn; and the Col Durand between the last-mentioned mountain
and the Dent Blanche.
For our route from Zinal to Zermatt, see the Map of the Valley of
Zermatt.
146 High above the Glacier de Moming at the foot of the Crête de Milton.
147 Moore’s Journal.
148 Through what is technically called an “ice-fall.”
149 The responsibility, however, did not rest with Croz. His part was to
advise, but not to direct.
150 The summit of the pass has been marked on Dufour’s map 3793 mètres,
or 12,444 feet.
151 These snow-cornices are common on the crests of high mountain
ridges, and it is always prudent (just before arriving upon the
summit of a mountain or ridge) to _sound_ with the alpenstock, that
is to say, drive it in, to discover whether there is one or not. Men
have often narrowly escaped losing their lives from neglecting this
precaution. Several instances have been known of cornices having
given way without a moment’s notice, and of life only having been
saved through men being tied together.
These cornices are frequently rolled round in a volute, and
sometimes take most extravagant forms. See page 32.
152 This opportunity has been taken to introduce to the reader some of
the most expert amateur mountaineers of the time; and a few of the
guides who have been, or will be, mentioned in the course of the
book.
The late Peter Perrn is on the extreme right. Then come young Peter
Taugwalder (upon the bench); and J. J. Maquignaz (leaning against
the door-post). Franz Andermatten occupies the steps, and Ulrich
Lauener towers in the background.
153 See pp. 115 and 190.
154 See p. 141.
155 See pp. 169-171.
156 See pp. 236 and 266.
157 I engaged Croz for 1865 before I parted from him in 1864; but upon
writing to him in the month of April to fix the dates of his
engagement, I found that he had supposed he was free (in consequence
of not having heard from me earlier), and had engaged himself to a
Mr. B—— from the 27th of June. I endeavoured to hold him to his
promise, but he considered himself unable to withdraw from his later
obligation. His letters were honourable to him. The following
extract from the last one he wrote to me is given as an interesting
souvenir of a brave and upright man:—
158 It was an entry describing an ascent of the Grand Cornier (which we
supposed had never been ascended) from the very direction which we
had just pronounced to be hopeless! It was especially startling,
because Franz Biener was spoken of in the account as having been
concerned in the ascent. On examining Biener it was found that he
had made the excursion, and had supposed at the time he was upon his
summit that it was the Grand Cornier. He saw afterwards that they
had only ascended one of the several points upon the ridge running
northwards from the Grand Cornier—I believe, the Pigne de l’Allée
(11,168 feet)!
159 For route, see the map of the Valley of Zermatt.
160 I wrote in the _Athenæum_, August 29, 1863, to the same effect.
“This action of the frost does not cease in winter, inasmuch as it
is impossible for the Matterhorn to be entirely covered by snow.
Less precipitous mountains may be entirely covered up during winter,
and if they do not then actually gain height, the wear and tear is,
at least, suspended.... We arrive, therefore, at the conclusion
that, although such snow-peaks as Mont Blanc _may_ in the course of
ages grow higher, the Matterhorn must decrease in height.” These
remarks have received confirmation.
The men who were left by M. Dollfus-Ausset in his observatory upon
the summit of the Col Théodule, during the winter of 1865, remarked
that the snow was partially melted upon the rocks in their vicinity
upon 19th, 20th, 21st, 22d, 23d, 26th, 27th December of that year,
and upon the 22d of December they entered in their Journal, “_Nous
avons vu au Matterhorn que la neige se fondait sur roches et qu’il
s’en écoulait de l’eau._”—_Matériaux pour l’étude des Glaciers_,
vol. viii. part i. p. 246, 1868; and vol. viii. part ii. p. 77,
1869.
161 In each of the seven nights I passed upon the south-west ridge of
the Matterhorn in 1861-3 (at heights varying from 11,844 to 12,992
feet above the level of the sea), the rocks fell incessantly in
showers and avalanches. See p. 120.
162 Tonson’s Ed. of 1758. Bacon may have had this passage in mind when
he wrote, “It must not be thought that heat generates motion, or
motion heat (though in some respects this be true), but that the
very essence of heat, or the substantial self of heat, is motion and
nothing else.”—_Novum Organum_, book ii. Devey’s Translation.
163 Doubtless, _at the sides_ of glacier beds, the range of temperature
is greater. But there is evidence that the winter cold does not
penetrate to the innermost recesses of glacier-beds in the fact that
streams continue to flow underneath the ice all the year round,
winter as well as summer, in the Alps and (I was informed in
Greenland) in Greenland. Experimental proof can be readily obtained
that even in midsummer the bottom temperature is close to 32° Faht.
164 Professor Tyndall “On the Conformation of the Alps,” _Phil. Mag._,
Sept. 1862.
165 This had been crossed, for the first time, a few months before.
166 The following details may interest mountain-climbers. Left Zinal
(5505 feet) 2.5 A.M. Thence to plateau S.E. of summit of Grand
Cornier, 5 h. 25 min. From the plateau to the summit of the
mountain, 2½ hours. The last 300 feet of the ridge followed were
exceedingly sharp and narrow, with a great cornice, from which huge
icicles depended. We were obliged to go _underneath_ the cornice,
and to cut a way through the icicles. Descent from summit to
plateau, 1 h. 40 min. Sharp snow-storm, with thunder. Plateau to
summit of Col du Grand Cornier (rocks easy), 45 min. From the summit
of the Col to the end of glacier leading to the west, 55 min. Thence
to Abricolla (7959), 15 min.
167 The brother of my guide Michel Croz.
168 See note to p. 70.
169 See map of the Valley of Zermatt.
170 Couloirs are invariably protected at their bases by bergschrunds. An
example of a couloir with a double bergschrund is given on p. 169.
171 The summit of the Dent Blanche is a ridge, perhaps one hundred yards
in length. The highest point is usually at its north-eastern end.
Several ascents besides those made by Mr. Kennedy and the author
have been made in late years; but, as yet, no one seems to have
discovered an easy route up the mountain.
172 The ascent of the Dent Blanche is the hardest that I have made.
There was nothing upon it so difficult as the last 500 feet of the
Pointe des Ecrins; but, on the other hand, there was hardly a step
upon it which was positively easy. The whole of the face required
actual climbing. There was, probably, very little difference in
difficulty between the route we took in 1865, and that followed by
Mr. Kennedy in 1862.
173 See Map of the Valley of Zermatt. The route taken upon June 19 is
alone marked.
174 See Chap. III. pp. 44-5.
175 Subsequent experiences of others have strengthened this opinion.
176 I prefer to be on the safe side. My impression is that snow cannot
accumulate in large masses _at_ 45°.
177 Upon this subject I beg to refer the reader to the valuable note
furnished by Signor F. Giordano in the Appendix.
178 See pp. 56 and 73.
179 Weathered granite is an admirable rock to climb; its gritty texture
giving excellent hold to the nails in one’s boots. But upon such
metamorphic schists as compose the mass of the great peak of the
Matterhorn, the texture of the rock itself is of little or no value.
180 I refer here only to that portion of the ridge which is between the
Col du Lion and the Great Tower. The remarks would not apply to the
rocks higher up (see p. 75); higher still the rocks are firm again;
yet higher (upon the “Shoulder”) they are much disintegrated; and
then, upon the final peak, they are again firm.
_ 181 Travels through the Alps_, 2nd ed. p. 317.
182 Its position is shown by the letter F, on the right of the outline,
on p. 85. See also Map of the Matterhorn and its Glaciers.
183 See p. 94.
184 See Frontispiece.
185 See note to p. 95.
186 The ascent of the Grandes Jorasses was made to obtain a view of the
upper part of the Aig. Verte, and upon that account the westernmost
summit was selected in preference to the highest one. Both summits
are shown upon the accompanying engraving. That on the right is (as
it appears to be) the highest. That upon its left is the one which
we ascended, and is about 100 feet lower than the other. A couple of
days after our ascent, Henri Grati, Julien Grange, Jos. Mar. Perrod,
Alexis Clusaz, and Daniel Gex (all of Courmayeur), followed our
traces to the summit in order to learn the way. As far as my
observation extends, such things are seldom done by money-grasping
or spiritless guides, and I have much pleasure in being able to
mention their names. The highest point (13,799) was ascended on June
29-30, 1868, by Mr. Horace Walker, with the guides Melchior
Anderegg, J. Jaun, and Julien Grange.
187 The view of Mont Blanc from a gorge on the south of the Italian Val
Ferret, mid-way between the villages of La Vachey and Praz Sec, and
about 3000 feet above them, is, in my opinion, the finest which can
be obtained of that mountain range anywhere upon the Italian side.
188 The next generation may witness its extinction. The portion of it
seen from the village of Argentière was in 1869 at least one quarter
less in width than it was ten years earlier.
189 This observation is not made without reason. I have seen the head of
one tumble off at a slight tap, in consequence of its handle having
been perforated by an ingenious but useless arrangement of nails.
190 I estimate its height at 1200 feet. The triangulation of Capt.
Mieulet places the summit of the pass 11,624 feet above the sea.
This, I think, is rather too high.
_ 191 Wanderings among the High Alps_, 1858.
192 Most of his principal exploits are recorded in the publications of
the Alpine Club.
193 Engraved, by permission, from a photograph by Mr. E. Edwards.
194 Admirably rendered in the accompanying drawing by Mr. Cyrus Johnson.
195 I heard lately of two well-known mountaineers who, under the
influence of sudden alarm, _swallowed their crystals_. I am happy to
say that they were able to cough them up again.
196 Hand specimens of the highest rocks of the Aiguille Verte cannot be
distinguished from granite. The rock is almost identical in quality
with that at the summit of Mont Dolent, and is probably a granitöid
gneiss.
197 The summit of the Aiguille Verte was a snowy dome, large enough for
a quadrille. I was surprised to see the great height of Les Droites.
Captain Mieulet places its summit at 13,222 feet, but I think it
must be very slightly lower than the Verte itself.
198 The Chamounix tariff price for the ascent of the Aiguille is now
placed at £4 _per guide_.
199 It should be said that we received the most polite apologies for
this affair from the chief of the gensdarmes, and an invitation to
lodge a complaint against the ring-leaders. We accepted his
apologies, and declined his invitation. Needless to add, Michel Croz
took no part in the demonstration.
200 Below the second ice-fall the glacier is completely covered up with
moraine matter, and if the _left_ bank is followed, one is compelled
either to traverse this howling waste or to lose much time upon the
tedious and somewhat difficult rocks of Mont Rouge.
201 In glissading an erect position should be maintained, and the point
of the alpenstock allowed to trail over the snow. If it is necessary
to stop, or to slacken speed, the point is pressed against the
slope, as shown in the illustration.
202 Comparison of the Col de Triolet with the Col de Talèfre will show
what a great difference in ease there may be between tracks which
are nearly identical. For a distance of several miles these routes
are scarcely more than half-a-mile apart. Nearly every step of the
former is difficult, whilst the latter has no difficulty whatever.
The route we adopted over the Col de Talèfre may perhaps be
improved. It may be possible to go directly from the head of the
Glacier de Triolet to its right bank, and, if so, at least thirty
minutes might be saved.
The following is a list of the principal of the passes across the
main ridge of the range of Mont Blanc, with the years in which the
first passages were effected, as far as I know them:—1. Col de
Trélatête (1864), between Aig. du Glacier and Aig. de Trélatête. 2.
Col de Miage, between Aig. de Miage and Aig. de Bionnassay. 3. Col
du Dôme (1865), over the Dôme du Goûter. 4. Col du Mont Blanc
(1868), over Mont Blanc. 5. Col de la Brenva (1865), between Mont
Blanc and Mont Maudit. 6. Col de la Tour Ronde (1867), over la Tour
Ronde. 7. Col du Géant, between la Tour Ronde and Aigs. Marbrées. 8.
Col des Grandes Jorasses (1873), between the Grandes and Petites
Jorasses. 9. Col de Leschaux (1877), between the Aig. de
l’Eboulement and the Aig. de Leschaux. 10. Col Pierre Joseph (1866),
over Aig. de l’Eboulement. 11. Col de Talèfre (1865), between Aigs.
Talèfre and Triolet. 12. Col de Triolet (1864), between Aigs.
Talèfre and Triolet. 13. Col Dolent (1865), between Aig. de Triolet
and Mont Dolent. 14. Col d’Argentière (1861), between Mont Dolent
and la Tour Noire. 15. Col de la Tour Noire (1863), between the Tour
Noire and the Aig. d’Argentière. 16. Col du Chardonnet (1863),
between Aigs. d’Argentière and Chardonnet. 17. Col du Tour, between
Aigs. du Chardonnet and Tour.
203 After crossing the glacier de Breney, we ascended by some débris,
and then by some cliffy ground, to the glacier which surrounds the
peak upon the south; bore to the left (that is to the west) and went
up the edge of the glacier; and lastly took to the arête of the
ridge which descends towards the south-west, and followed it to the
summit (12,727).
204 Manufactured and sold by Messrs. Buckingham, Broad Street,
Bloomsbury.
205 For example, when the leader suspects crevasses, and _sounds_ for
them, in the manner shown in the engraving, he usually loses half a
step or more. The second man should take a turn of the rope around
his hand to draw it back in case the leader goes through.
206 When several persons are descending such places, it is evident that
the _last man_ cannot derive any assistance from the rope, and so
might as well be untied. Partly upon this account, it is usual to
place one of the strongest and steadiest men last. Now, although
this cannot be termed a senseless precaution, it is obvious that it
is a perfectly useless one, if it is true that a single slip would
upset the entire party. The best plan I know is that which we
adopted on the descent of the Col Dolent, namely, to let one man go
in advance until he reaches some secure point. This one then
detaches himself, the rope is drawn up, and another man is sent down
to join him, and so on until the last. The last man still occupies
the most difficult post, and should be the steadiest man; but he is
not exposed to any risk from his comrades slipping, and they, of
course, draw in the rope as he descends, so that his position is
less hazardous than if he were to come down quite by himself.
207 If you are out upon an excursion, and find the work becoming so
arduous that you have great difficulty in maintaining your balance,
you should at once retire, and not imperil the lives of others. I am
well aware that the withdrawal of one person for such reasons would
usually necessitate the retreat of a second, and that expeditions
would be often cut short if this were to happen. With the fear of
this before their eyes, I believe that many amateurs continue to go
on, albeit well convinced that they ought not. They do not wish to
stop the sport of their comrades; but they frequently suffer mental
tortures in consequence, which most emphatically do not assist their
stability, and are likely to lead to something even more
disagreeable than the abandonment of the excursion. The moral is,
take an adequate number of guides.
208 During the preceding eighteen days (I exclude Sundays and other
non-working days) we ascended more than 100,000 feet, and descended
98,000 feet.
209 See p. 79.
210 Tourists usually congregate at Zermatt upon Sundays, and large gangs
and droves cross the Théodule pass on Mondays.
211 The Italian Minister. Signor Giordano had undertaken the business
arrangements for Signor Sella.
212 Peter Taugwalder, the father, is called _old_ Peter, to distinguish
him from his eldest son, _young_ Peter. In 1865 the father’s age was
about 45.
213 Brother of the present Marquis of Queensberry.
214 For route, and the others mentioned in the subsequent chapters, see
map of Matterhorn and its glaciers.
215 The two young Taugwalders were taken as porters, by desire of their
father, and carried provisions amply sufficient for three days, in
case the ascent should prove more troublesome than we anticipated.
216 I remember speaking about pedestrianism to a well-known mountaineer
some years ago, and venturing to remark that a man who averaged
thirty miles a-day might be considered a good walker. “A fair
walker,” he said, “a _fair_ walker.” “What then would you consider
_good_ walking?” “Well,” he replied, “I will tell you. Some time
back a friend and I agreed to go to Switzerland, but a short time
afterwards he wrote to say he ought to let me know that a young and
delicate lad was going with him who would not be equal to great
things, in fact, he would not be able to do more than fifty miles
a-day!” “What became of the young and delicate lad?” “He lives.”
“And who was your extraordinary friend?” “Charles Hudson.” I have
every reason to believe that the gentlemen referred to _were_ equal
to walking more than fifty miles a-day, but they were exceptional,
not _good_ pedestrians.
Charles Hudson, Vicar of Skillington in Lincolnshire, was considered
by the mountaineering fraternity to be the best amateur of his time.
He was the organiser and leader of the party of Englishmen who
ascended Mont Blanc by the Aig. du Goûter, and descended by the
Grands Mulets route, without guides, in 1855. His long practice made
him surefooted, and in that respect he was not greatly inferior to a
born mountaineer. I remember him as a well-made man of middle height
and age, neither stout nor thin, with face pleasant—though grave,
and with quiet unassuming manners. Although an athletic man, he
would have been overlooked in a crowd; and although he had done the
greatest mountaineering feats which have been done, he was the last
man to speak of his own doings. His friend Mr. Hadow was a young man
of nineteen, who had the looks and manners of a greater age. He was
a rapid walker, but 1865 was his first season in the Alps. Lord
Francis Douglas was about the same age as Mr. Hadow. He had had the
advantage of several seasons in the Alps. He was nimble as a deer,
and was becoming an expert mountaineer. Just before our meeting he
had ascended the Ober Gabelhorn (with old Peter Taugwalder and Jos.
Viennin), and this gave me a high opinion of his powers; for I had
examined that mountain all round, a few weeks before, and had
declined its ascent on account of its apparent difficulty.
My personal acquaintance with Mr. Hudson was very slight—still I
should have been content to have placed myself under his orders if
he had chosen to claim the position to which he was entitled. Those
who knew him will not be surprised to learn that, so far from doing
this, he lost no opportunity of consulting the wishes and opinions
of those around him. We deliberated together whenever there was
occasion, and our authority was recognised by the others. Whatever
responsibility there was devolved upon _us_. I recollect with
satisfaction that there was no difference of opinion between us as
to what should be done, and that the most perfect harmony existed
between all of us so long as we were together.
217 Arrived at the chapel 7.30 A.M.; left it, 8.20; halted to examine
route 9.30; started again 10.25, and arrived at 11.20 at the cairn
made by Mr. Kennedy in 1862 (see p. 59), marked 10,820 feet upon the
map. Stopped 10 min. here. From the Hörnli to this point we kept,
when possible, to the crest of the ridge. The greater part of the
way was excessively easy, though there were a few places where the
axe had to be used.
218 Thus far the guides did not once go to the front. Hudson or I led,
and when any cutting was required we did it ourselves. This was done
to spare the guides, and to show them that we were thoroughly in
earnest. The spot at which we camped was four hours’ walking from
Zermatt, and is marked upon the map—CAMP (1865). It was just upon a
level with the Furggengrat, and its position is indicated upon the
engraving facing p. 227 by a little circular white spot, in a line
with the word CAMP.
219 It was originally intended to leave both of the young men behind. We
found it difficult to divide the food, and so the new arrangement
was made.
220 See pp. 227-231.
221 For track, see the lower of the outlines facing p. 230.
222 See remarks on arêtes and faces on p. 206. There is very little to
choose between in the arêtes leading from the summit towards the
Hörnli (N.E. ridge) and towards the Col du Lion (S.W. ridge). Both
are jagged, serrated ridges, which any experienced climber would
willingly avoid if he could find another route. On the northern
(Zermatt) side the eastern face affords another route, or any number
of routes, since there is hardly a part of it which cannot be
traversed! On the southern (Breil) side the ridge alone, generally
speaking, can be followed; and when it becomes impracticable, and
the climber is forced to bear down to the right or to the left, the
work is of the most difficult character.
223 Very few stones fell during the two days I was on the mountain, and
none came near us. Others who have followed the same route have not
been so fortunate; they may not, perhaps, have taken the same
precautions. It is a noteworthy fact, that the lateral moraine of
the left bank of the Furggengletscher is scarcely larger than that
of the right bank, although the former receives all the débris that
falls from the 4000 feet of cliffs which form the eastern side of
the Matterhorn, whilst the latter is fed by perfectly insignificant
slopes. Neither of these moraines is large. This is strong evidence
that stones do _not_ fall to any great extent from the eastern face.
The inward dip of the beds retains the detritus in place. Hence the
eastern face appears, when one is upon it, to be undergoing more
rapid disintegration than the other sides: in reality, the mantle of
ruin spares the mountain from farther waste. Upon the southern side,
rocks fall as they are rent off; “each day’s work is cleared away”
every day; and hence the faces and ridges are left naked, and are
exposed to fresh attacks.
224 The snow seen in the engraving facing p. 227, half-an-inch below the
summit, and a little to its right.
225 This part was less steeply inclined than the whole of the eastern
face.
226 I have no memorandum of the time that it occupied. It must have
taken about an hour and a half.
227 The highest points are towards the two ends. In 1865 the northern
end was slightly higher than the southern one. In bygone years
Carrel and I often suggested to each other that we might one day
arrive upon the top, and find ourselves cut off from the very
highest point by a notch in the summit-ridge which is seen from the
Theodule and from Breil (marked *D* on the outline on p. 85). This
notch is very conspicuous from below, but when we were upon the
summit it was hardly noticed, and it could be passed without the
least difficulty.
228 I have learnt since from J.-A. Carrel that they heard our first
cries. They were then upon the south-west ridge, close to the
“Cravate,” and _twelve hundred and fifty_ feet below us; or, as the
crow flies, at a distance of about one-third of a mile.
229 At our departure the men were confident that the ascent would be
made, and took one of the poles out of the tent. I protested that it
was tempting Providence; they took the pole, nevertheless.
230 Signor Giordano was naturally disappointed at the result, and wished
the men to start again. _They all refused to do so, with the
exception of Jean-Antoine._ Upon the 16th of July he set out again
with three others, and upon the 17th gained the summit by passing
(at first) up the south-west ridge, and (afterwards) by turning over
to the Z’Mutt, or north-western side. On the 18th he returned to
Breil.
Whilst we were upon the southern end of the summit-ridge, we paid
some attention to the portion of the mountain which intervened
between ourselves and the Italian guides. It seemed as if there
would not be the least chance for them if they should attempt to
storm the final peak directly from the end of the “shoulder.” In
that direction cliffs fell sheer down from the summit, and we were
unable to see beyond a certain distance. There remained the route
about which Carrel and I had often talked, namely to ascend directly
at first from the end of the “shoulder,” and afterwards to swerve to
the left—that is, to the Z’Mutt side—and to complete the ascent from
the north-west. When we were upon the summit we laughed at this
idea. The part of the mountain that I have described upon p. 278,
was not easy, although its inclination was moderate. If that slope
were made only ten degrees steeper, its difficulty would be
enormously increased. To double its inclination would be to make it
impracticable. The slope at the southern end of the summit-ridge,
falling towards the north-west, was _much_ steeper than that over
which we passed, and we ridiculed the idea that any person should
attempt to ascend in that direction, when the northern route was so
easy. Nevertheless, the summit was reached by that route by the
undaunted Carrel. From knowing the final slope over which he passed,
and from the account of Mr. F. C. Grove—who is the only traveller by
whom it has been traversed—I do not hesitate to term the ascent of
Carrel and Bich in 1865 the most desperate piece of
mountain-scrambling upon record. In 1869 I asked Carrel if he had
ever done anything more difficult. His reply was, “Man cannot do
anything much more difficult than that!” See Appendix *D*.
231 The summit-ridge was much shattered, although not so extensively as
the south-west and north-east ridges. The highest rock, in 1865, was
a block of micaschist, and the fragment I broke off it not only
possesses, in a remarkable degree, the character of the peak, but
mimics, in an astonishing manner, the details of its form. (See
illustration on page 284.)
232 It is most unusual to see the southern half of the panorama
unclouded. A hundred ascents may be made before this will be the
case again.
233 The substance of Chapter XX. appeared in a letter in the _Times_,
August 8, 1865. A few paragraphs have now been added, and a few
corrections have been made. The former will help to make clear that
which was obscure in the original account, and the latter are,
mostly, unimportant.
234 If the members of the party had been more equally efficient, Croz
would have been placed _last_.
235 Described upon pp. 277-8.
236 Not at all an unusual proceeding, even between born mountaineers. I
wish to convey the impression that Croz was using all pains, rather
than to indicate extreme inability on the part of Mr. Hadow. The
insertion of the word “absolutely” makes the passage, perhaps,
rather ambiguous. I retain it now, in order to offer the above
explanation.
237 At the moment of the accident, Croz, Hadow, and Hudson, were all
close together. Between Hudson and Lord F. Douglas the rope was all
but taut, and the same between all the others, who were _above_.
Croz was standing by the side of a rock which afforded good hold,
and if he had been aware, or had suspected, that anything was about
to occur, he might and would have gripped it, and would have
prevented any mischief. He was taken totally by surprise. Mr. Hadow
slipped off his feet on to his back, his feet struck Croz in the
small of the back, and knocked him right over, head first. Croz’s
axe was out of his reach, yet without it he managed to get his head
uppermost before he disappeared from our sight. If it had been in
his hand I have no doubt that he would have stopped himself and Mr.
Hadow.
Mr. Hadow, at the moment of his slip, was not occupying a bad
position. He could have moved either up or down, and could touch
with his hand the rock of which I have spoken. Hudson was not so
well placed, but he had liberty of motion. The rope was not taut
from him to Hadow, and the two men fell ten or twelve feet before
the jerk came upon him. Lord F. Douglas was not favourably placed,
and could neither move up nor down. Old Peter was firmly planted,
and stood just beneath a large rock which he hugged with both arms.
I enter into these details to make it more apparent that the
position occupied by the party at the moment of the accident was not
by any means excessively trying. We were compelled to pass over the
exact spot where the slip occurred, and we found—even with shaken
nerves—that _it_ was not a difficult place to pass. I have described
the _slope generally_ as difficult, and it is so undoubtedly to most
persons; but it must be distinctly understood that Mr. Hadow slipped
at an easy part.
238 Or, more correctly, we held on as tightly as possible. There was no
time to change our position.
239 These ends, I believe, are still attached to the rocks, and mark our
line of ascent and descent. I saw one of them in 1873.
240 I paid very little attention to this remarkable phenomenon, and was
glad when it disappeared, as it distracted our attention. Under
ordinary circumstances I should have felt vexed afterwards at not
having observed with greater precision an occurrence so rare and so
wonderful. I can add very little about it to that which is said
above. The sun was directly at our backs; that is to say, the
fog-bow was opposite to the sun. The time was 6.30 P.M. The forms
were at once tender and sharp; neutral in tone; were developed
gradually, and disappeared suddenly. The mists were light (that is,
not dense), and were dissipated in the course of the evening.
It has been suggested that the crosses are incorrectly figured in
the accompanying view, and that they were probably formed by the
intersection of other circles or ellipses, as shown in the annexed
diagram. I think this suggestion is very likely correct; but I have
preferred to follow my original memorandum.
In Parry’s _Narrative of an Attempt to reach the North Pole_, 4to,
1828, there is, at pp. 99-100, an account of the occurrence of a
phenomenon analogous to the above-mentioned one. “At half-past five
P.M. we witnessed a very beautiful natural phenomenon. A broad white
fog-bow first appeared opposite to the sun, as was very commonly the
case,” etc. I follow Parry in using the term fog-bow.
It may be observed that, upon the descent of the Italian guides
(whose expedition is noticed upon p. 282, and again in the
Appendix), upon July 17, 1865, the phenomenon commonly termed the
Brocken was observed. The following is the account given by the Abbé
Amé Gorret in the _Feuille d’Aoste_, October 31, 1865:—“Nous étions
sur l’épaule (the ‘shoulder’) quand nous remarquâmes un phénomène
qui nous fit plaisir; le nuage était très-dense du côté de
Valtornanche, c’était serein en Suisse; nous nous vîmes au milieu
d’un cercle aux couleurs de l’arc-en-ciel; ce mirage nous formait à
tous une couronne au milieu de laquelle nous voyions notre ombre.”
This occurred at about 6.30 to 7 P.M., and the Italians in question
were at about the same height as ourselves—namely, 14,000 feet.
241 They had been travelling with, and had been engaged by, Lord F.
Douglas, and so considered him their employer, and responsible to
them.
242 Transcribed from the original memorandum.
243 Nor did I speak to them afterwards, unless it was absolutely
necessary, so long as we were together.
244 A portrait of Franz Andermatten is given in the engraving facing p.
202.
245 To the point marked *Z* on the map.
246 Marked with a cross on the map.
247 A pair of gloves, a belt, and boot that had belonged to him, were
found. This, somehow, became publicly known, and gave rise to wild
notions, which would not have been entertained had it been also
known that the _whole_ of the boots of those who had fallen _were
off_, and were lying upon the snow near the bodies.
248 The three ropes have been reduced by photography to the same scale.
249 I was one hundred feet or more from the others whilst they were
being tied up, and am unable to throw any light on the matter. Croz
and old Peter no doubt tied up the others.
250 This is not the only occasion upon which M. Clemenz (who presided
over the inquiry) has failed to give up answers that he has
promised. It is greatly to be regretted that he does not feel that
the suppression of the truth is equally against the interests of
travellers and of the guides. If the men are untrustworthy, the
public should be warned of the fact; but if they are blameless, why
allow them to remain under unmerited suspicion?
Old Peter Taugwalder is a man who is labouring under an unjust
accusation. Notwithstanding repeated denials, even his comrades and
neighbours at Zermatt persist in asserting or insinuating that he
_cut_ the rope which led from him to Lord F. Douglas. In regard to
this infamous charge, I say that he _could_ not do so at the moment
of the slip, and that the end of the rope in my possession shows
that he did not do so beforehand. There remains, however, the
suspicious fact that the rope which broke was the thinnest and
weakest one that we had. It is suspicious, because it is unlikely
that any of the four men in front would have selected an old and
weak rope when there was abundance of new, and much stronger, rope
to spare; and, on the other hand, because if Taugwalder thought that
an accident was likely to happen, it was to his interest to have the
weaker rope where it was placed.
I should rejoice to learn that his answers to the questions which
were put to him were satisfactory. Not only was his act at the
critical moment wonderful as a feat of strength, but it was
admirable in its performance at the right time. I am told that he is
now nearly incapable for work—not absolutely mad, but with intellect
gone and almost crazy; which is not to be wondered at, whether we
regard him as a man who contemplated a scoundrelly meanness, or as
an injured man suffering under an unjust accusation.
In respect to young Peter, it is not possible to speak in the same
manner. The odious idea that he propounded (which I believe emanated
from _him_) he has endeavoured to trade upon, in spite of the fact
that his father was paid (for both) in the presence of witnesses.
Whatever may be his abilities as a guide, he is not one to whom I
would ever trust my life, or afford any countenance.
251 They followed the route laid down upon the map, and on their descent
were in great peril from the fall of a _sérac_. The character of the
work they undertook may be gathered from a reference to p. 100.
252 This, or a subsequent party, discovered a sleeve. No other traces
have been found.
253 See p. 48.
254 See p. 120.
255 Malte-Brun’s _Annales des Voyages_, April 1869.
256 Peter Perrn, the well-known guide, died at Zermatt in the winter of
1873-4.
257 A place on the final peak, about half-way between the “Shoulder” and
the summit.
258 We resume here the account of the proceedings of the Italians who
started from Breil on the 11th of July 1865. See p. 269.
259 The foregoing particulars were related to me by J.-A. Carrel.
260 The following details are taken from the account of the Abbé Amé
Gorret (published in the _Feuille d’Aoste_, Oct. 1865), who was at
Breil when the men returned.
261 See Appendix *E*, attempt No. 1.
262 These terms, as well as the others, Great Staircase, Col du Lion,
Tête du Lion, Chimney, and so forth, were applied by Carrel and
myself to the various points, in consequence of real or supposed
resemblances in the rocks to other things. A few of the terms
originated with the Author, but they are chiefly due to the
inventive genius of J.-A. Carrel.
263 This point is marked by the red letter *E* upon the lower of the two
outlines facing p. 44.
264 I have seen icicles more than a hundred feet long hanging from the
rocks near the summit of the Matterhorn.
265 The words of the Abbé. I imagine that he meant _comparatively easy_.
266 The pace of a party is ruled by that of its least efficient member.
267 See pp. 83-4 and pp. 90-1.
268 A ridge descending towards the Z’Muttgletscher.
269 Joseph and J.-Pierre Maquignaz alone ascended; the others had had
enough and returned. It should be observed that ropes had been
fixed, by J.-A. Carrel and others, over _all_ the difficult parts of
the mountain as high as the shoulder, _before_ the advent of these
persons. This explains the facility with which they moved over
ground which had been found very trying in earlier times. The young
woman declared that the ascent (as far as she went) was a trifle, or
used words to that effect; if she had tried to get to the same
height before 1862, she would probably have been of a different
opinion.
270 Cette roche granitoïde paraît surtout à la base ouest du pic sous le
col du Lion, tandis qu’elle ne paraît pas du tout sur le flanc est,
où elle paraît passer au gneiss talqueux.
271 En plusieurs localités des environs, cette zone calcarifère présente
des bancs et des lentilles de dolomie, de cargueule, de gypse et de
quartzite.
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE
Italic type is marked by underscore (_), boldface by asterisk (*).
The following changes have been made to the text:
page 24, “fire” changed to “fir”
page 178, “Cormayeur” changed to “Courmayeur”
page 203, “regele” changed to “regale”, “Pernn” changed to “Perrn”
page 243, “naturrally” changed to “naturally”
page 269, opening quote added before “That”
page 294, “crritical” changed to “critical”
page 315, period added after “47-9”
page 319, period added after “Andermatten”
page 321, period added after “Taugwalder”
Variations in accentuation (“chalet”/“châlet”), hyphenation (e.g. “commonplace”/“common-place”, “midday”/“mid-day”) and spelling (“Ortler”/“Orteler”) have not been changed.
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The Ascent of the MatterhornChapter XXVI: Appendix: A.* the Death of Bennen.(253) (3)
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